I Christen Thee...
Two uneventful days passed for Alan. He of course never strayed too far from Essen, in case he should suddenly be contacted. Lofwyr had mentioned to him that he was waiting on some items from abroad before the Serenity would be ready to fly, though Alan found that he was having trouble keeping himself busy during the wait. He did not dare to travel out in the daytime, for he knew people would not be used to his appearance and he wanted to avoid unnecessary trouble at present. The last time he had been around others he had gotten a lot of odd looks which made him uncomfortable.
Though he had been told to get his affairs in order, it seemed there were not that many that he needed to sort out. An idle search through whatever passed for the Matrix these days revealed that his bank account had disappeared, and there was no record of him anywhere. That made sense, since Kiryuu had put every effort into making sure the UNSC didn't find out about Alan's existence. He thought it strange that no notes seemed to have been left for him telling him what the situation was now, though he presumed that was in case they were lost or intercepted.
He wished that Lofwyr wasn't apparently spoon-feeding him with his offers of gathering a crew and supplies, but if Alan was being honest with himself he would not know where to begin on that front had he been expected to do it by himself. He was not sure how anyone was supposed to prepare themselves for space travel; the most experience he had ever had was a brief period as an unwanted passenger on a Sangheili ship, and even then the farthest he had gotten was Io. He only wished he was not indebted to Lofwyr for this; he hated being in any sort of debt.
At last, after what felt like too much time to him, Alan received a message from Lofwyr. He was to be outside Warehouse Eight at Site Alpha after sunset, and everything was in the final stages of preparation. He was told that the guards would let him in, but he didn't like the idea of being searched and going into that place unarmed in case Lofwyr tried anything. So that night, carrying a backpack full of the few worldly possessions he had left, he re-entered the Saeder-Krupp compound in the same way he had the other night; by vaulting over the perimeter wall, keeping a sharp eye out for searchlights, sensors or guard patrols.
As his feet hit the concrete, he dived into the shadow of the nearest building. As he crouched behind a pile of crates, he felt as if he was back in his element. He had spent several decades as a shadowrunner back in the 21st century, and did this sort of activity rather regularly. Only a few nights ago he had managed to get inside the hangar which Lofwyr considered his treasure trove. He felt reassured that he was picking up the skills again so quickly, for he was sure they would be necessary even in space on some alien planet.
"Need a hand down there, mate?" a sneering voice with traces of a Cockney accent said quietly. Alan spun round as something jumped down from the crates behind him. In spite of the darkness, Alan could see fine thanks to his mutated eyes, and he immediately saw that the person who had accosted him was not actually human. It looked in some ways like a large anthropomorphic eagle, complete with a large, hooked yellow beak on its face and large feathery wings growing out of its back. Unlike any bird, however, the body was covered in green leathery skin rather than feathers, it had a clump of brown hair on top of its head and a long tail snaked behind it with a clump of brown fur on the tip. It was dressed in dark-blue body armour, complete with wrist and ankle guards. As it looked at him with piercing golden eyes, its beak crooked into a sneer, Alan realised it more closely resembled the gryphon of legend rather than any bird. For a moment he was in shock, unable to think of a coherent thing to say.
"Like what you see?" the stranger replied, still smirking. "I'm flattered, mate, but I'm afraid I don't swing that way."
"Excuse me?" Alan replied.
"Boy, oh boy," the creature sighed, "your brain really is bust tonight, isn't it? First you break in, now you can't even recognise a simple joke. Mind you, Lofwyr did say you wouldn't be the type to use the door if he said you could. Are you always this mistrusting?"
"You..." Alan stammered, now recovering from the initial shock of his acquaintance's appearance. "You were expecting me?"
"You got that right, matey," the creature replied. "The name's Alistair, and Lofwyr told me to expect an ugly bugger for an appointment tonight. We'd best be getting to Warehouse Eight now." As he turned to lead Alan in the direction of the warehouse, he looked back at the mutant, scratching his chin and smirking. "You know, if you stick a pair of wings on you could probably pass for a gargoyle, only without that whole 'turn into stone during the day' malarkey."
"Wait, wait," Alan said, following Alistair across the concrete. "You're a gargoyle?"
"Too bloody right," Alistair replied. "Not all non-humans have been wiped out, you know."
"But I've seen gargoyles before," Alan replied, in a confused tone. "None of them looked like animals."
"Obviously not London gargoyles then," Alistair shrugged. "All of us in the London clan look like different animals, we always have. One of my best friends looks like a warthog, poor soul."
Alan shook his head, holding his head in a claw. "Just when I think I have everything figured out..." he muttered.
As Alan and Alistair headed across the dark compound, Alan noticed that things were getting much busier the further in they went. Technicians and security personal were running hither and thither, while some were driving forklifts and other loading vehicles, carrying equipment about the place. A few shouted "Clear the way!" as they passed Alan and Alistair.
Eventually, the two reached a large landing pad outside Warehouse Eight, which was where the heart of the activity seemed to lie. The Serenity had been moved outside the hangar, occupying a large amount of concrete as the moonlight glistened off the metal. Various workmen were clambering around the outside of the ship, making repairs to the plating. The door leading up to the ship's cargo bay was open, a ramp extending to allow vehicles to enter and exit. All of the lights inside the ship were turned on. Now that Alan was getting a good look at the ship he was beginning to doubt whether it would be able to fly at all.
"A beauty of a ship you picked there, mate," Alistair said, mockingly. Alan just gave him a frosty glare, but he could not help feeling that the gargoyle had a point. He knew he had made a lot of bad decisions in his life, but this was somewhere near the top of the list. He had the feeling that this was some sort of practical joke on Lofwyr's part, but in the end thought it best to humour him and walked on board the Serenity to have a look.
The ramp led up to a moderately-sized cargo bay, the curved walls lined with metal plates that had apparently been placed at complete random. Various gantries and staircases led from the floor to several doors leading to other parts of the ship, and there was a trapdoor in the centre of the floor. At present the space was being filled with various large crates and equipment wrapped in nets, including a rust-coloured quad bike with a large trailer attached. Alan scoffed at the sight of it.
"Give me two wheels any day," he said.
"I hardly think Lofwyr took your motoring habits into account, mate," Alistair scoffed. He followed Alan through an egg-shaped door on the ground level, which led to a wider space filled with sofas, coffee tables and a working trideo system. The room had a small inner chamber containing a fully-stocked infirmary, while a passage led towards sliding doors fitted with yellow glass. A flight of stairs led up to a corridor, and down the left-hand side Alan came across the engine room, which was a small space taken up mostly by the engine itself. For some reason, there was a hammock pressed flat against one wall. The visible part of the engine itself basically amounted to a large rotating drum, with a variety of tubes, cables, circuit boards and metal plates attached.
"Oh, I see," a cheery female voice was saying from somewhere near Alan's feet. He looked down to see two pairs of jean-covered legs sticking out from underneath the engine. "You fitted this to make the fusion drive burn harder for longer?"
"I certainly did," Lofwyr's unmistakeable voice said. "One of the little modifications I made to this vessel that I am especially proud of. It will never be slip-space fast, but it will get you to where you need to be in a hurry."
"Wow," the woman was saying in a tone of complete awe. "I wish mother was here to see all this. She'd be mighty impressed."
"She was clearly a marvel with machinery," Lofwyr said. "I was surprised at how little work I had to do to the engines. Still, I built the Firefly series for durability and reliability; as long as they are kept maintained, they will fly forever."
"Doesn't look like it, from where I'm standing," Alan said loudly. He stood back to let Lofwyr and his acquaintance slide from under the engine on separate trolleys. Both were covered from head to foot in engine grease; Lofwyr in-particular looked unrecognisable, wearing a set of dirty overalls. So too was the woman, who Alan noticed that, under the grease, she was rather pretty, with long brown hair draping over her shoulders.
"Ah, Alan," Lofwyr said with a grin. "I do hope you'll forgive me for not looking my finest and rolling out the red carpet for your arrival."
"I never figured you to be the sort who mucks in with Joe Average," Alan scoffed.
"I did not become a captain of industry on mere theory alone," Lofwyr said, rather proudly. "Besides, I tinker with my collection in the small amount of spare time I have. I try to improve their mechanisms while still retaining their antique charm."
"'Antique' being the operative word," Alan said. At this, the woman's expression looked rather scandalous.
"It is not wise to insult the Serenity around my colleague here," Lofwyr said, indicating the woman. "Appearances are very deceptive."
"You're no Elite assault carrier, yourself," the woman said to Alan in a haughty tone. "You don't hear me telling you to get a facelift, though."
"That's right, my dear," Lofwyr said, sounding amused. "Teach the silly captain a lesson."
"Oh wonderful," Alan said, rolling his eyes. "This ship isn't even in the air yet, and already I've got a mutiny on my hands." At this, the woman giggled.
"You're cute when you're flustered," she said.
"Anyway," Lofwyr said, "Alan, may I introduce you to Rachel Tam. Both of her parents and one of her aunts were part of the previous crew. It seems young Rachel has picked up her mother's talent for machines, and so I brought her in to be your engineer. She will keep your ship running, no matter what."
"I know something about motors," Alan said.
"This is a touch more complicated than a motorbike, Alan," Lofwyr said, smirking. "Anyway, keep the parts coming in and Rachel will keep the engine going."
"I'm gonna hold you to that, Captain," Rachel said with a gleam in her eye.
"I see you have already found Alistair," Lofwyr said, indicating the gargoyle, who had been watching the scene with great amusement.
"More like I found him, sir," Alistair said. "You were right about this one; he don't like using the door."
"Alistair will act as your First Mate on the voyage," Lofwyr said.
"Not to bite the hand that feeds," Alan said warily, "but won't this add to our problems? Gargoyles can't do much during the day."
"He is an excellent tactician and a cunning warrior," Lofwyr said. "I assure you that he will prove his worth many times over. You will just have to be careful how you plan the timing of your operations, that is all."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, sir," Alistair said smarmily.
"I also suggest tying up his beak on occasion," Lofwyr said to Alan. "You may need a break from it every now and then.
"Anyway," he continued, "I should give you the tour. This is the engine room, obviously. The fusion drive will carry you through space at an incredible speed. It will still take time for you to get anywhere, of course; remember that you do not have slip-space capability. Do not let it burn for too long, just to be on the safe side. Finally, whatever you do, do not activate the drive when you're still in the atmosphere. The explosion can punch a crater in a planet's surface the size of a small city. Now if you will follow me."
"I'll be right here if you need me, Captain," Rachel said cheerily. "It was good to meet you, Mr. Tyler!"
As Lofwyr, Alan and Alistair walked out of the engine room and down the corridor, Lofwyr indicated the staircase which Alan had just come from.
"Down those stairs," he said, "you'll find the common room, the infirmary, and a set of passenger cabins, in case you want to make some extra money by getting settlers where they want to be. From there, you can get to the cargo bay. Some of the plating in there is loose, with enough space behind it to hide any goods that are less-than-legal, should you choose to pick up old habits."
"Moi?" Alan said, in mock indignation. "As if I would!"
"The only thing I am concerned about is that you are able to keep to your end of the deal," Lofwyr said. "Also, I would rather see this ship returned in one piece. Any morally dubious activities between now and then are none of my concern.
"Anyway," he continued, as the group stepped through into a very comfortable-looking room with a long wooden dining table, a small kitchen area, and the walls painted in a cheery yellow colour. "Here you have a dining room, kitchen and lounge all in one. Most of the time you will have to survive on protein supplements, but agriculture on the planets is gradually improving, so you may be able to acquire meat and vegetables on your travels."
"I just hope someone on this ship can cook," Alistair said wryly. "I'm out of luck if it involves anything more complicated than using a microwave and a tin-opener."
Alan shook his head. He was a terrible cook, and now he was getting worried about how they would survive out in space if the food supplies ran dry. He just hoped that there wouldn't be long stretches between pit stops. He followed Lofwyr and Alistair through the opposite door, passing a pair of doors that led to small closets. If he remembered the layout of the ship from the outside well, they were now in the neck section leading up to the flight deck.
"Through here," Lofwyr said, "are five cabins for the crew. Fortunately there are just enough cabins for one each, so there should be no awkward cabin-sharing going on."
"Rachel's the only human on this ship so far," Alan said. "I seriously doubt anything of that sort's going to happen out there."
"No lady Godzillas out there, eh?" Alistair asked. Alan looked at Lofwyr, his eyes narrowed.
"How many people did you tell?" he snarled.
"Only your crew, Alan," Lofwyr replied. "The rest of my staff involved in preparing this ship believes you are another gargoyle. Alistair already knew the truth anyway. In fact, you are partly the reason he agreed to lend his assistance."
"How did you know?" Alan asked Alistair, incredulous.
"It's a long story, mate," Alistair said, shrugging. "You might get to hear it sometime."
"Besides," Lofwyr chimed in, "it is not difficult for an intelligent being to figure out. You look like a miniature version of your surrogate father these days, anyway."
"Well..." Alan murmured. "As long as it's only the crew..."
"Want us to take a vow of silence?" Alistair said, smirking. "That might make the trip a bit awkward though, since there won't be much in the way of conversation."
"Let's just get this tour finished," Alan said. "The sooner we start, the sooner we can be away from here."
"Alright," Alistair shrugged. "Keep your wig on."
The group headed down the corridor, past a small side-passage and up a small flight of steps and onto the main flight deck. The room had two consoles, a stepladder leading down to a small observation deck, and most of the ceiling was comprised of windows looking out across the dark complex and into the night sky. Sat at one of the consoles was a thin, pale man with a wrinkled face and a receding hairline, his hair brown and lanky. He gave a curt nod before returning his attention to the right-hand console.
"The left-hand console is for the co-pilot," Lofwyr explained. "The right-hand console is the pilot's seat. Speaking of which, it seems your pilot is here already. How are the systems, Bishop?"
"Magnificent," the man known as Bishop replied. "For such old technology, it is incredibly durable. I can see that you built the Firefly class to last, Lofwyr. We will be ready to leave as soon as the word is given." He stood up and moved away from the console, looking at Alan with a politely curious expression. "So this is our captain, and soon-to-be captor?"
"Captor?" Alan asked, puzzled. "What's he talking about?"
"It is part of the cover story I have prepared," Lofwyr replied. "As far as everyone helping to prepare for tonight's launch knows, this ship is being used for a simple transportation mission as part of a test flight. The story will be that you kidnapped the crew and stole the ship." He smiled slyly at Alan. "Just a little extra motivation to not return to Earth empty-handed."
"Why, I oughta-" Alan snarled, raising his fist. Alistair, however, placed a talon on his shoulder.
"Do you really want this mission to be over before it's begun?" he asked. The surprisingly calm tone of his voice seemed to bring Alan to his senses, and he lowered his fist.
"I assure you, Captain," Bishop said, unperturbed, "that I will be a willing hostage. I will guide the Serenity to wherever you wish her to go, and as quickly as her engines will allow."
Alan just nodded, still rather taken aback at Lofwyr's latest surprise. He hadn't expected them to become fugitives. It was probably the most plausible cover story that Lofwyr could have thought of in the circumstances, but it brought a fresh wave of doubt washing over him.
"Excellent," Lofwyr said. "Well, we might as well see what goodies you have to take with you on your journey. Come with me to the cargo hold."
It seemed Lofwyr was rather enjoying this opportunity to take Alan around the crowning piece of his collection. There was an odd smile on his face as he led Alan past the crew's cabins and into the small side-passage, which had a small hatch in the ceiling that led back outside. As he led Alan and Alistair down a flight of steps and onto one of the upper gantries in the cargo bay, he hummed oddly to himself. This endeavour seemed to make him feel young again, and he deeply regretted that he would not be able to fly in his ship himself; there were some ancient laws that even he could not break. He indicated a pair of doors on either side of the upper level, both of them numbered.
"You will find a pair of space-ready shuttles behind those doors," he said. "Actually, Shuttle One was used as the residence of a registered Companion before. It took a while to remove the smell of incense from it."
"What?" Alan asked, now thoroughly confused.
"In 34 Tauri," Lofwyr explained, "it seems prostitution was legal. There was an entire Companion's Guild in that system, dedicated to the training of female Companions in the arts of seduction and etiquette. One could gain a lot of respect from such a profession, and having one on board your ship could get you into places you could not otherwise enter."
"So they were glorified whores?" Alan asked. Lofwyr chuckled.
"That is exactly what Malcolm Reynolds thought as well," he said. "Back then, he didn't expect to fall in love with Inara, the Companion who shared many of his adventures. I expect it was just as much a shock for her as well."
"What does Reynolds do these days?" Alan asked.
"Well," Lofwyr said, "shortly after many of the planets in 34 Tauri were glassed, he signed up with the ODSTs to fight the Covenant. Fortunately for him and Inara, he survived the war. I believe they now own a ranch in Texas."
"Sounds like a fairytale ending to me," Alan scoffed.
"Perhaps," Lofwyr chuckled. "After everything else you have seen, however, does such a thing really seem that hard to believe?"
Alan said nothing, but continued to follow Lofwyr along the gantry, passing a door on the end that lead to another cupboard, and heading down the metal steps to the floor level. By now the cargo bay was full on two sides with various crates, and most of the staff on the site had gone. Only a wiry-looking man with Hispanic features remained, with short, spiky black hair, a well-trimmed moustache and goatee, and wearing a dark green shirt and grey combats. He was kneeling on a long crate, propping what looked like a massive metal cannon on his knee, inspecting every part of the enormous weapon carefully. With a start Alan realised where he had seen a gun with a similar design before. He looked down at the crate, and saw not only the logo of Omak-Argon Industries, but three letters; B.F.G.
"Malcho..." Alan muttered.
"He thought you would like the name," Lofwyr smirked. "You will not believe how many favours I had to call in to get all of this equipment for your journey. Now I'm not the only one with a heavy investment in this enterprise. Malcho, the opportunistic bastard, saw it as a chance to test his new design in the field. He would say you would recognise its predecessor."
"I certainly do," Alan replied, still looking a little shocked. "That's a bloody Spartan Laser!" He looked up at the wiry Hispanic man, who was now looking at Alan with a grimace on his face.
"He wasn't kidding about you being one ugly puto either," he said. Alan chose to ignore that comment.
"So you're a Spartan, are you?" he asked. "They're the only people I know who can lift those things."
"I wish," the man snorted. "It's a new design; it's now light enough for us mere mortals to carry, but it still packs one hell of a punch. Malcho sent me here with the weapon to test it. He said he would rather invite a queen Invae to dinner than trust you with it."
"Funny," Alan said, "because I would say the same about the feather duster."
"He also gave me permission to test the weapon on you if you call him that," the man sneered.
"Now now, José," Lofwyr said pedantically, as if addressing an over-eager child. "I'm sure there are plenty of leftover Covenant out there to test your new toy on." He turned to Alan. "This is José Lovano, a former ODST turned hired gun. He's right in that Malcho wouldn't let the laser go without his hired help on board. You'll just have to put up with it, I'm afraid."
"Until someone else offers me more money anyway, amigo," José chimed in. He placed the huge laser back in its crate before sidling off up the stairs towards the crew's cabins.
"That's all I need," Alan groaned. "I wanted this operation to be top secret. Now I've got everybody's cronies snooping around."
"Hey," Alistair said, mocking indignation. "I don't snoop. I sneak. There's a difference."
Lofwyr smiled, taking Alan aside for a moment.
"Remember," he said, "do not return empty-handed. Only then will I allow you to set foot on Earth again. Even if you outrun the UNSC, I can still hunt you myself."
"Spare me," Alan said in a biting tone. "I know what's at stake. Just tell me something first." Lofwyr nodded.
"Do you believe Kiryuu's alive?" Alan asked. "You wouldn't be doing all this if you didn't believe there was even a chance of him being brought back, that much I'm sure of." Lofwyr paused for a moment, as if considering his answer.
"Have you ever heard of the famous thought experiment 'Schrödinger's Cat'?" Lofwyr asked, chuckling.
"Actually, I have," Alan replied. "I do read, you know. It's something about sticking a cat in a box with a vial of acid that only breaks if a very specific condition is met. The theory is that the cat's state cannot be determined until the box is opened and its condition is observed. It's all a bunch of rhetorical nonsense though."
"Perhaps," Lofwyr replied. "However, right now, Kiryuu is that same cat in the box, surrounded by unknown dangers. Like the cat, his fate could be left in the hands of a single atom. Until I observe his condition with my own eyes, he is both alive and dead."
"That's... reassuring," Alan said with evident doubt.
"Will you be disappointed if Kiryuu is found alive?" Lofwyr asked, smirking.
"What?" Alan said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm not getting my hopes up either way."
"Very sensible," Lofwyr said, nodding. "You should only be disappointed if you do not find him at all. All I have left to say is to remain focused on the task at hand, and try to enjoy the journey itself. Oh, and do return my ship in one piece. I would hate to see all of my attempts to restore her gone to waste."
With that, Lofwyr tipped his head to both Alan and Alistair, and strolled out of the cargo bay and into the moonlight. He felt it was a shame that he could not go with them and see those distant stars himself, but without any Technomantic aids he would slip into the hibernation state known as Shal-Mora if he tried to go beyond the Earth which he was bound to. He was curious as to whether Alan could live up to Kiryuu's legacy. He hummed a couple of Toto tunes to himself as he walked across the concrete landing pad and got to a safe distance to witness the take-off.
Once safely away from the launch site, he radioed Alistair to let him know that they were not expecting any more supplies. Alistair took that as his cue to cross to the cargo door controls and raise the ramp. As it closed, Alan noticed a small door was also part of the ramp, just before a pair of large doors slid shut. The cargo door also doubled as an airlock. He groaned as Alistair moved away from the console and beckoned Alan up the nearby steps.
"He plans to finish me off," he said as he headed up the steps to the upper gantry. "He's doing this just to see me fail. He certainly knows how to hold a grudge."
"You always this paranoid?" Alistair asked.
"When it comes to dragons, yes," Alan spat. "Back in the 21st century, we had a saying; 'Never Deal with a Dragon'. It's ironic that a dragon was the first person I heard saying that, but it's true; they always come up with a way of making life difficult."
"Yet you made a deal with a dragon to get your arse into space," Alistair said, sounding amused. "The irony is delicious."
"Don't remind me," Alan groaned. The two of them were soon walking down the passage leading to the flight deck. A loud humming sound could be heard, indicating that the engines were being prepared.
"Lofwyr said I'm to follow your orders to the letter," Alistair said.
"Did he?" Alan asked, dubiously. "Look, leading a team of shadowrunners is one thing, but being the captain of a sodding spaceship is a different kettle of fish. Frankly, I'd rather you spoke your mind."
"You're going to regret saying that," Alistair smirked. "Also, just so you know, if you ask me to put on a dress and dance the cann-cann, I'm drawing the line, Covenant or no."
"I don't know," Alan said, grinning and showing his sharp teeth. "That could be a useful distraction."
"I'm sure," Alistair chuckled. "We shoot them all while they fall over laughing." The two walked onto the flight deck, where Bishop was speaking to Lofwyr over a communicator.
"We can leave anytime, sir," he was saying. "Navigation, life-support, artificial gravity and hull integrity are all A-OK, and the engines are in the green."
"Your trajectory is clear, Serenity," Lofwyr was saying. "All air and space traffic is away from your flight-path." He lowered his tone slightly. "All that is left for me now is to wish you all the very best of luck." With that, he signed off.
"Well, you heard the man," Alan said. "We might as well try and get beyond the atmosphere first. Take us out."
"Roger," Bishop said, flipping some switches and grasping the steering column. Alistair pulled a small radio unit which acted as the ship's intercom down from the ceiling and spoke into it.
"Attention all hands," he said. "We're taking off now. Best make yourselves comfortable."
The humming of the engines grew louder and louder, until the ship actually started to tremble. At first, Alan thought the vibrations would shake the ship apart, until he saw the ground below begin to rapidly move out of view of the viewing ports as the ship made a vertical take-off. The engines on either side of the ship could be rotated more or less freely and independently, giving the ship incredible manoeuvrability. Alan spotted a potential problem in that there didn't seem to be any kind of mounted weaponry, and wished he had pointed out this potentially fatal flaw to Lofwyr. He sighed, knowing it was too late to do anything about it now, as he watched the night sky gradually get closer and closer. Strangely, in spite of the speed they were going to break through the atmosphere, he did not seem to be feeling any adverse effects from g-force. Space travel had come a long way since he had been placed in suspended animation.
"We have broken through the atmosphere, Captain," Bishop intoned after a minute. "We're now leaving Earth orbit."
Now out in the vacuum of space, Alan noticed that everything now seemed a lot quieter. In fact, there was no noise coming from outside at all. The rumbling also seemed to have stopped. It was clear that the Serenity was back in her natural environment, and for the first time Alan felt the thrill of exploration begin to ignite like a fire in his body. Now that he was seeing the stars outside of Earth's atmosphere, he longed to see what mysteries the countless planets held.
"Do you have a starting point in mind, Captain?" Alistair asked.
"Captain?" Alan asked dumbly. He still was not quite used to being addressed by a title, so it took him a moment to realise that Alistair was talking to him.
"Oh right," he mumbled, "that's me. A first stop?"
"Yeah," Alistair said wryly. "You must have some idea of where to begin looking for Mr. President." Alan scratched his chin for a moment. He did have a destination in mind, but he knew it was incredibly risky.
"Bishop," he said, "what's the name of the planet the Elites are from?"
"Are you referring to the ex-Covenant race known as the Sangheili?" Bishop asked.
"That's them," Alan said, snapping his fingers. "I never could pronounce that name."
"I hate to disappoint you, Captain," Bishop said, sounding concerned, "but that is not something the UNSC has any knowledge of. Even after the Sangheili defected to our side in the war, they refused to divulge the location of their home-world. The only thing we are certain of is that it is far beyond the Outer Planets, so even if we knew where it was it would take years to get there, even at maximum speed."
"Wonderful," Alan replied, sarcastically. "Any other good news I should know about?"
"Well, in spite of your facetious tone," Bishop said calmly, "there is something else you should know. Your plan to make stops at human settlements will be extremely difficult. Many of the planets with human settlers were destroyed, glassed by the Covenant. It will be extremely hard to get supplies and replacement components should anything go wrong with the ship."
"So what you're saying is," Alan said, "that we can't go forward. Well, we can't bloody well go back either. Lofwyr made that clear to me."
Bishop looked away for a moment, apparently uncomfortable with looking at Alan's frustrated expression. He brought up some star charts on the computers and pointed to a likely-looking planet several light years away.
"I will set a course for the nearest surviving human colony," he said. "It is quite far out into space, but hopefully someone in such a distant sector will have received word on the status of the Sangheili people."
"Just out of curiosity," Alistair chimed in, "why them? We ain't exactly friendly with 'em, not after the war."
"I have..." Alan muttered. "It's a long shot, but I know someone among them who may be able to help us. From what I gather, he was in close contact with Kiryuu, so he may have some idea of what happened."
"Well, it's your call," Alistair shrugged. He turned to speak into the intercom again. "Rachel, is the fusion drive ready?"
"She's raring to go, first mate," Rachel said eagerly. "She's eager to be put through her paces."
While they had been talking, the Serenity was passing by a structure Alan recognised. It looked like a large space station which was tethered to the Earth by a ringed column, which stretched for several miles to the planet's surface. This was the Quito Space Tether, which Alan had visited once not long after he had awakened from suspended animation. He wondered if Malcho was on the observation deck even now. He gave a one-fingered salute to the station, just in case the feathered serpent happened to be watching them depart.
"Alright then," he said. "Let's go. Fire up that drive and get us to that colony."
"Roger," Bishop said. With that, a high-pitched whining could be heard for a moment coming from the engine room, and a sudden jolt was felt. The increase in speed wasn't immediately apparent, until Alan saw the moon pass by at a much quicker speed than the space tether had. The realisation of how fast they were going made him feel slightly nauseous.
"It will be some time before we reach our destination, Captain," Bishop said. "I suggest we all make use of the cryo-stasis chambers on the ship. Lofwyr installed one in each crew and passenger cabin in case of long-distance space travel such as this."
Alan groaned. He had been in cryo-sleep once before for nearly 500 years, and he did not relish the idea of having to spend time in a tube again.
"Can you keep an eye on things here, Alistair?" Alan asked. "I just need to rest a moment. It's been a long day."
"You got it, mate," Alistair said. "Your cabin's the second one on your left. All your stuff's already there."
Alan walked down the corridor to the cabin Alistair had indicated. There was no obvious door; instead each cabin was punctuated by a set of metal rungs. Pressing his foot against the metal, the part of the wall moved inwards like a hatch, with the rungs forming a ladder down into the cabin. Alan climbed down and stepped into a modestly-sized cabin, complete with a bed and a shaving mirror. Below the shaving mirror were a sink and a toilet, currently on the other side of the wall behind revolving parts of it. His satchel, weapons and commlink were already there on the bed.
He sat on the bed for a moment, now feeling in complete despair. The situation had turned out to be worse than he though, and his plan was completely insane. From the sounds of things, he had essentially led his crew on a suicide mission. With the amount of time it would take to get anywhere, he knew that the chances of him finding anyone who could help were extremely slim. He wondered why he had decided to do this. Part of him decided that he had to have been feeling suicidal.
As he idly picked up the commlink and switched it on, he saw that someone had sent him a message. He opened it up, and found a note with a large amount of attachments. These attachments turned out to be books in digital format, the first of which was called Strategy by Liddell-Hart. There were several other books as well, focusing on tactics, military intelligence, data analysis and that sort of thing, as well as reams of hand-written notes and addendums. Wondering who would send Alan books like this, he took a moment to read the note:
Alan,
Kiryuu left these in my possession before he disappeared. He had always intended for you to read them. Considering what you are about to do, now seems as good a time as any to give them to you.
It seems that Kiryuu was going to try to get you to think more like him, even though I feel that a man has to know his 'own swing', so to speak. He told me that this was a part of the training that he hoped you would undertake. He preferred it that you not know who they came from, but that now seems rather redundant.
I will say that this was the key to Kiryuu's success. Think about the enemies that Kiryuu fought all those years ago, such as Biollante, Titanosaurus, the Mechagodzilla doppelganger, and especially King Ghidorah. In all of those instances, Kiryuu was most certainly 'overpowered' by them. Yet, as you know, he always won.
It was not entirely because of Technomancy, the Oxygen Destroyer, or anything else like that. It was because he was smarter than them. He was probably smarter than Mothra or even Dunkelzahn.
You can overcome anything that gets in your way, but you need to stop thinking like a scared human with Organiser G-1 in his body. It's time to start thinking like Kiryuu, if you will allow yourself to.
Good luck out there in the Black.
Manda