(A/N) All will be revealed in this and later chapters, lightman. I'm not going to give up any secrets or ideas about the story before I get to it. I don't own Star Wars or Halo.

Chapter 5: A Man and His Ship

Ehren stood before his new allies with his helmet in one hand and his other hand holding his blaster beneath his robes. They may be his allies but he didn't fully trust them yet, and he was vulnerable when he didn't have all his armor on. The man stood an impressive six-foot-two and had all the signs of a seasoned warrior.

His hair was little more than stubble, however most of it had been burned off completely by fire, lasers, and plasma. Scars outlined his face, and the three claw marks from an unfortunate Trandoshan tore down the left side of his face, leaving him with a permanent grimace and a mechanical eye. He wasn't ugly; in fact, all of the scars and gashes seemed to enhance his features. Despite all of the wounds his face remained friendly enough for Miranda to start doubting that this was the same man who had threatened the human race a few seconds ago.

"I apologize for the threat, usually I'm more diplomatic. It's just that times have been, stressful…" he trailed off, apparently considering something, but shook the thought away. "We'll help fix any damage we may have done to your ship. Then my people will get your ship out of my hanger, its impossible to launch fighter patrols with that thing in there."

Miranda cocked an eyebrow, "Aren't you worried that we may run away?"

"No. I have ten gravity well projectors and dozens of tractor beams; you couldn't go anywhere I didn't want you to."

Captain Keyes wasn't exactly sure how she should take that remark. She had personally seen the gravitational pull this ship could project, however Miranda now figured that he had been using very little of his ship's capability in that instance. Master Chief shifted his stance uncomfortably.

Ehren noticed the subtle movement, "It seems you don't like the current situation. Don't worry, warrior, I may be a mercenary but I am also a man of honor: my allies shall not come to harm if I can help it. Now would you like a tour of my flagship? I would enjoy showing off my pride and joy."

The mechanics looked into the hallway that the fight had taken place in. Being used to knocking out the occasional dent or fixing some small electrical problem the techs found their current task quite daunting. Bullet holes and blaster scars peppered the walls while larger craters showed where the grenades had gone off. A hole in the floor was the only sign that the lotus anti-tank mine had ever existed.

One of the mechanics swore and rubbed his temples, "Remind me again why we're doing this instead of them."

A younger man kicked a piece of debris down the hole so it landed on techs that were doing clean-up work on the lower floor and was rewarded by some oaths and insults, "The Admiral is a good host, and like all good hosts, he sends his inferiors to do the dirty work while he plays tour guide."

The techs shook their heads and got out their equipment. The younger man looked at the gloomy workers and said, "Hey could be worse." The mechanics gave him a blank stare. "Could be raining!"

A guffaw escaped one of the techs as they remembered the time when one of the soldiers had said that same thing, and as if on cue—

"SERGEANT AVERY JOHNSON! Put that cigar out this instant! That's against protoca—AAAAAAAUUUGGHH! YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Groans arose from the techs as the sprinkler system in the Star Galleon turn on.

"This is the bridge," announced Ehren as the group (minus the Sergeant, he had excused himself so he could keep an eye on the techs) entered a large room similar to any other Star Destroyer command center. The only difference would be the throne-like command chair positioned so that he could keep an eye on everything in the room.

Miranda eyed the chair, "So you flaunt your superiority with toys, Admiral?"

She had not been impressed by the tour so far. All of it had either one of two things: quantum armor plating or a grandiose story of his mercenary's exploits which didn't impress the Captain one bit.

"Actually, no, Captain," the Admiral replied proudly. "This was a gift from the crew. They all pitched in and got me this for my Life-day." He got into the chair and began to show off a few of its functions. "Massage, personal computer, comm. systems, retractable blaster cannon (definitely made for Imperials who enjoy killing subordinates), and it rotates!"

"Ooooooo… snazzy," Cortana whispered to the Chief.

"I think he's off his rocker," Master Chief remarked, forgetting to turn off his external speakers.

The Admiral just grinned at the Spartan and keyed a new command into the chair. It immediately began to rock back and forth, "Now why would you say that?" He asked innocently, and then sobered. "I assure you I am not crazy, you might say I'm a bit eccentric, however I tested myself last week and my doctor says that my sanity is indeed intact."

Rubbing his hand together the Admiral got out of the command chair. What can I show them next? Don't want to reveal too much, but then this is the first time I've ever really had allies. However I can't let myself start trusting them like they've began to trust those elites. Haven't shown them the factory yet… how about after dinner. What time is it?

"Are any of you getting hungry? My chefs can fix anything you'd like," remembering that he wasn't talking to humans who ate the normal foods he added, "Well almost anything; I don't know what your culture eats so I guess I could give you a sampling of our foods, or maybe you would rather that I bring food in from your ship?"

An audible rumble from the Arbiter's stomach seemed to answer the first question. An apologetic gaze was shot at the Admiral, and the Arbiter returned to his sulking. He hadn't been comfortable on this ship since Ehren had pulled his blaster on him. Miranda swallowed and answered for everyone.

"It would probably be easier if we just brought food from our ship, thank you for the offer though."

Ehren sighed and used this as a reminder that he wasn't trusted either, "Of course."