Fortune's Favour
With the realisation that the mission now seemed to be a complete bust, the crew noticed that Alan was no longer filled with the energy and drive that had got him this far. He seemed to be somewhat deflated, spending a lot of time alone in his cabin and not speaking to anybody. Even at mealtimes he seemed highly troubled, and often had to be reminded about his food on the table, though José frequently spoke of his longing for real food over the various substitutes they had to digest. Curiously, Bishop didn't seem to eat anything at mealtimes; he usually took his food to the flight deck, claiming that he had to keep an eye on the ship's systems.
Alan was not the only one who seemed to be struggling on the ship. Alistair frequently complained of a constant lethargy, attributing it to the fact that there was no day or night in space. As a result, his body did not seem to know whether it should be asleep or awake, instead trying to reach a point halfway between the two which was now giving Alistair a lot of grief.
Since no huge occurrences needed his attention, Alan spent most of his time reading through the books that Kiryuu had left for him. They were very in-depth, and Kiryuu himself had added a great many notes and suggestions for alternative methods of achieving his goals. Part of Alan wondered why he was doing this, as he could not perceive many opportunities arising now to put those theories into practice, but he felt that he owed it to Kiryuu to do this study anyway. He resigned himself to the fact that, sooner or later, the crew would have to use the cryo-chambers if they hoped to survive the journey ahead, a journey that increasingly seemed to have no destination.
A few days into the flight, not far beyond the boundary of the Sol System, was when trouble struck. At first, it had seemed to be a day like any other, when all of a sudden the ship violently shook. In his cabin, Alan almost toppled off his bunk as the ship rocked. He jumped down off it and ran towards the ladder.
"Captain, get up here!" Alistair's voice could be heard yelling through the intercom. Alan quickly climbed the ladder out of his cabin and ran to the flight deck. He found Alistair and José waiting for him, while Bishop struggled to retain control of the ship as the ship shook violently again.
"What the hell's going on?" Alan demanded.
"A Covenant capital ship," Bishop explained. "A CCS-class Battlecruiser, to be exact. It dropped out of slip-space right behind us and opened fire." He pointed to one of the scanners, where a diagnostic of the huge, gleaming battleship was displayed. With a start, Alan recognised the sleek design, knowing where he had seen a ship of that type before.
"Oh, Christ..." Alan muttered. "Don't tell me the Elites are after us now?"
"That is one possibility," Bishop said, concentrating on evading the plasma fire that whizzed past the ship. "The other is that the ship is still in the hands of the Jirahalnae."
"Jira-whatnow?" Alan asked.
"Our lads call 'em Brutes," Alistair chimed in. "Nasty ape-things that are still loyal to the Covenant. I should point out that they're not known for taking prisoners."
"Shit..." Alan muttered, as another near-miss caused the ship to rock. He headed to the intercom and opened a channel to the engine room. "Rachel, tell me we can use the fusion drive and get out of here!"
"No can do, Captain!" Rachel's worried voice proclaimed. "We already pushed it to its limits today! Setting it off now could... well, I don't want to think about it!"
At that moment, a loud crashing sound echoed through the ship, and it suddenly jolted violently from side to side. All of the crew was knocked off their feet. Bishop was thrown bodily from the pilot's console and went tumbling down the steps to the lower deck. He lay unconscious on the metal grating. The lights in the ship flickered, and Alistair ran to check the ship's status on one of the screens.
"Oh shit!" he exclaimed. "They've taken out the starboard engine! We're sitting ducks!"
"This is what you get for having a ship with no guns, idiota!" José scolded, glaring at Alan as he staggered to his feet. Throwing a similarly dirty look back at him, Alan spoke into the intercom.
"Rachel," Alan called. "We'll have to risk it with the booster. It looks like we're dead either way. Let's at least-"
He suddenly went silent as a bright light filled the flight deck, coming from outside. Though no sound could be heard, it looked like something big had just happened to the right of the ship.
"Hold on a second, Rachel!" Alan called, before abandoning the intercom and grabbing the flight controls. The port-side engine still survived, and he was able to use it to turn the ship around and get a better view of what was happening. When Alan saw what was unfolding just behind the ship, his jaw dropped.
An enormous, glowing pool of light was shining brightly in the vacuum of space outside, not far behind the Serenity. Emerging from it was the biggest spaceship Alan had ever seen. It was so large that only a small fraction of it could be seen through the windows. It even dwarfed the destroyer that had attacked the Serenity. Its sleek silver surface flashed every so often as plasma fire spewed out of the gun turrets, heading towards the Jirahalnae ship.
"Caramba..." José breathed, now looking even more worried. "That's one of their assault carriers..."
Alan assumed he was referring to the Covenant ships, and he hoped and prayed that these new arrivals were somewhat less hostile to humans. There didn't seem to be much point in trying to run with the broken engines, so they merely watched as the destroyer tried to turn and engage the enormous assault carrier. The outcome of the battle, however, was inevitable, as the destroyer was clearly outclassed. The larger vessel soon fired a huge laser from the front into the opponent's hull, tearing it apart. The ship exploded, scattering its occupants to the stars.
Inside the Serenity, the battle made no sound, but the sight of it alone shocked Alan into silence. That had been far too close; if the victorious ship had been a second slower, it would have been too late. It seemed that, once again, luck was on his side. It was only then that he remembered that one of his crew was badly injured in the attack. The ensuing battle had momentarily pushed it out of his mind. He jumped down to the lower deck, to find Alistair tending to the unconscious Bishop. There was a deep cut across his forehead, but instead of the blood that Alan expected to see, a white fluid was slowly spilling out of the cut and onto Alistair's talons. Looking closer, he saw two small wires poking out of the wound.
"Looks like some wire or other in his head was knocked loose," Alistair said. "I dunno if Rachel can fix him, but it can't hurt to ask. Otherwise we'll have to start teaching ourselves how to fly a Firefly." He stopped short when he saw Alan looking at him, his face a mask of shock. The mutant kneeled closer to Bishop's body, seeing the white fluid and slowly touching the two loose wires. He looked at Alistair, his shock now beginning to turn into anger.
"Lofwyr didn't tell me he was putting a fucking robot on board!" he snarled.
"He prefers the term 'artificial person'," Alistair sighed. "Lofwyr obviously didn't think you needed to know."
"What?" Alan shouted. "He put me in charge of this damn ship! I have to know everything about my crew! Now you're telling me that there's no-one on the ship who can fix him?"
"Will you get a bloody grip on yourself?" Alistair said firmly. "I've already said Rachel might be able to knock up some sort of quick-fix, get him back on his feet again. Though I've gotta admit that I'm not sure human synthetics are her field..."
"He's done this to me on purpose..." Alan muttered angrily, staggering back up to the main flight control. "He's trying to drive me completely batty..."
"I guess you wouldn't have seen a Bishop model before," Alistair said. "There's always at least one on a spaceship, especially a deep-space operation. They act as science advisors and pilots. At least you never saw the days of the Ash model; now those things were rotten to the core."
"Rachel," José said into the intercom. "You okay, mi amiga?"
"I'm fine," Rachel replied. "Serenity's bruised really badly, though. Poor baby..."
All at once a crackling sound came from the flight control. Alan moved over to it to see that one of the screens was now showing the face of a Sangheili. The four clicking mandibles moved in a disturbing manner as it spoke in a deep voice.
"Earth vessel, this is the Separatist assault carrier, Shadow of Intent. Are you receiving me?"
"Goddamned split-heads..." José snarled. Alan turned to look at his crew. José was scowling, a hand kept on the handle of the large ODST-issue handgun that was always holstered at his hip. Alistair had managed to carry the stricken Bishop up the steps, keeping a talon clamped firmly around the wound on his forehead to stop more of the fluid from leaking out. He too looked wary, as the Shadow of Intent repeated its hailing twice more. In the end, Alan decided that he could not afford to take chances at present, not while his ship was dead in the proverbial water.
"Shadow of Intent," Alan replied into the communicator, "this is the Firefly-class transport ship, Serenity. We have been too badly damaged to get our engines running, and we've got injured crew members here. We request permission to dock with your ship while we make repairs and tend to our wounded."
The Sangheili faded from view; apparently he had signed off while he was consulting a superior. It was a full minute before he responded.
"Permission granted, Serenity," he said. "We will use our gravity lift to tow your ship in. However, we will only permit you to enter our ship unarmed."
"Understood," Alan replied. "You won't get any trouble from us." He signed off. José now looked murderous.
"What do you think you are doing?" he exclaimed. "You wanna let those split-heads walk all over us?"
"It's damn rude to shoot the guys who just saved our hides," Alan responded, doing his best to keep his temper. "Besides, we're in no position to run or fight anybody right now. Now that the Elites have actually shown themselves, I've got a plan, and all I want to hear from any of you right now is 'I understand, Captain'."
"I understand and agree, Captain," Alistair said, firmly. "Just keep in mind that we may have fought alongside the Elites in the end, but you couldn't say we're chummy. Still, there's nowt to be gained from jumping the gun at present. The last thing I want is for Earth to end up at war with them again."
"José?" Alan asked, firmly. The mercenary looked at Alan with a foul expression, unstrapping the holster that held his precious gun so close.
"I understand... Captain," he said rather scornfully.
"Rachel," Alistair said over the intercom. "Get the 'droid toolbox out of the infirmary and ready a stretcher in the cargo bay. Bishop's been hurt."
"Understood, First Mate," Rachel said. "I'll do what I can with him, but those guys are a bit messy and icky to work with."
As the group made their way to the cargo bay, José grabbed Alan's arm and looked at him with a steely expression.
"You're as crazy as Malcho said you were," he said.
"Maybe so," Alan replied. "It's got me this far, though." He moved to catch up with Alistair.
"I just hope someone on that ship's heard of either Kiryuu Knight or Cujo 'Mentatalee," he muttered.
The Serenity was pulled towards the Shadow of Intent, bathed in the shimmering purple glow of the gravity lift. As it approached the assault carrier, the size of it became even more apparent. Characterised by the bulbous, whale-like front and bow sections, it could easily dwarf a significant portion of a large city back on Earth. The ship did not seem to have several smaller hangar bays, but instead it had a single cavernous hangar bay, filled with various Phantom dropships, Banshee fighters, Seraph starfighters, and even a Scarab or two. A UNSC Frigate could have comfortably fit inside the enormous space.
The Serenity gently came to rest on the lavender floor. As the ramp leading to the cargo hold lowered, Alan was astounded at the sight of the alien technology around him as he, Alistair and José stepped out into the space. Close behind them was Rachel, pushing a gurney with the unconscious Bishop resting on it. It now dawned on Alan more than ever that the Earth's forces had been very fortunate indeed to even survive the war for so long, let alone emerge victorious.
He turned to survey the Serenity, and indeed the ship looked a mess. There were burn marks in the metal from several near-misses with plasma fire, while the starboard jet engine had been completely destroyed. Alan felt bad enough that he had let his ship suffer so much damage at this early stage, but Rachel seemed to be feeling even worse, looking on the verge of tears.
"Lofwyr's not gonna like this..." he muttered. "Good thing we won't be back on Earth for a couple of hundred years yet."
José kept looking frantically around him, still muttering about 'split-heads', which Alan understood to be one of several derogatory terms for the Sangheili. He was half-afraid that the mercenary was going to do something drastic, and could not help but wonder what he must have gone through in the war to make him so twitchy. José's mood only worsened when two large Sangheili, both well over seven feet tall, dressed in gleaming blue battle armour, and carrying large purple rifles which Alan recognised to be Covenant carbines approached them. As they spoke, the four mandibles which comprised their mouths quivered, making Alan feel somewhat uncomfortable.
"Shipmaster Alan Tyler?" one of the Sangheili asked, addressing Alan.
"Uh..." Alan replied, rather taken aback that he was being addressed directly, and almost forgetting that 'Shipmaster' was the Sangheili term for 'Captain'. "That's me."
"Your presence has been requested on the bridge," the guard said abruptly. "Your crew, however, must remain here."
"Don't worry about Bishop, Captain," Rachel called, leaning over the android and examining the exposed wiring. "He should be back on his feet by the time you get back. Now do these go to the audio or visual receptors?"
"Alistair," Alan said, "keep an eye on things here. Make sure José behaves himself."
"You got it, Captain," Alistair said, smirking. He turned to José, who was looking at both him and Alan with a decidedly sulky expression.
"You boys had better play nice!" Rachel said, in a surprisingly stern tone. "I've got serious-type work to do here!"
One of the guards led Alan out of the hangar and through a series of corridors, often leading him up inclines. The lavender passageways were dimly lit by green strip lights in the ceiling, but it would still have been difficult to see had Alan's eyes been normal human eyes. He was uncomfortably aware that the Sangheili he passed were staring and pointing at him, speaking to each other in their own alien language in hushed whispers. None of them had ever seen a creature like Alan before, and he was sure that Alistair was getting similar looks back in the hangar. He had half a mind to tell them to stop it, but he held himself in; he vividly remembered the last time he had done that, for he had almost been thrown out of an airlock for it.
After several minutes of walking in silence deeper inside the ship, Alan was escorted onto the cavernous bridge. The chamber resembled an auditorium, with various holographic displays lining the walls and a large raised podium in the centre. The area was as dimly-lit as the rest of the bridge. Alan often wondered if Sangheili were sensitive to strong light for everything to be arranged like this. He was led up the ramp to the podium, which surprised him as last time he had tried to do the same on the last Sangheili ship he was on, he had been stopped by guards. Instead, he was led to the top of the podium, which was empty save for one other Sangheili whose back was turned to him at present. Alan assumed that this was the Shipmaster.
"Dorl ym," the escort was saying, speaking in the Sangheili tongue. "Detseuqer uoy sa, tneserp si lessev Htrae eht fo retsampihS eht."
"Rethorb, llew yrev," the other Sangheili said. "Tsop ruoy ot nruter."
The escort bowed, and turned to face Alan.
"You will speak to him with the greatest of respect," he said. "Try anything and we will teach you a lesson you will not forget."
Alan didn't dare to argue, or snap back at him. If his plan was to succeed, he felt sure he had to be as polite and respectful as possible, even if it killed him. The escort walked back down the ramp as Alan turned to face the apparent Shipmaster of the Shadow of Intent. As the Shipmaster turned to face him, Alan saw that he was dressed differently to the other Sangheili. Compared to the sleek battle armour the average Sangheili wore, the Shipmaster's silver-coloured armour, while well-maintained, looked decidedly older, with the helmet having a more ornate shape. Strapped to his belt, Alan could see a large handle, which he recognised to be the hilt of an Energy Sword. This meant that this Sangheili could only be an Aristocrat, and a dangerous enemy if Alan crossed him.
The Shipmaster approached Alan and peered intently at him, examining him from every angle. Alan kept still and did not say a word, though he was unsure as to what the Shipmaster was doing and was now starting to get very nervous.
"Shipmaster Tyler," the Shipmaster then said, in a voice full of authority, "my name is Otto 'Gamam, the Arbiter of the Sangheili people and Shipmaster of the Shadow of Intent."
Alan wasn't sure what the Sangheili did to show respect, so Alan gave a traditional salute.
"Your arrival was very fortunate, Shipmaster," he said, trying to hide his Yorkshire accent behind a respectful tone. "On behalf of my crew, you have my deepest thanks."
"You are very welcome," Otto said. "Truthfully, however, we had not anticipated your ship's involvement. The destroyer that attacked you was a Jirahalnae straggler from a fleet which my own fleet, the Shadow of Fury, had engaged. When they moved into slip-space we pursued them. It is fortunate for us both that they could not resist trying to take a human trophy for themselves."
Alan was not sure how to respond to that. He was not sure if the Arbiter was being sarcastic, but decided against pressing the matter. Clearly, this being held a lot of influence, especially if he was in charge of an entire fleet of ships. If he played his cards right, his plan could work.
"Actually, it's lucky that I ran into you, Shipmaster," Alan said. "I'd been trying to find your homeworld."
"Sangheilios?" Otto exclaimed, in a mixed tone of surprise and amusement. "That is... how would you say it... a tall order for a ship such as yours which was clearly not intended for long-distance travel."
"Yes," Alan said, wearily. "I'm beginning to realise that."
"So tell me something, Shipmaster Tyler," Otto said, in a slightly sardonic tone. "Why would you try to reach Sangheilios, a journey which will take years without a slip-space drive, in a ship that seems to be technologically inferior even by the standards of Earth technology, with no means of defending yourself? What is so important about my people that would drive you to risk so much?"
Alan considered the Arbiter's tone to be somewhat high-and-mighty, as if he was mocking Alan for such a reckless action. He did his best to keep his temper, and answered.
"Frankly speaking," he said, "I need your help. Firstly, I was hoping to meet with one of your people, Shipmaster Cujo 'Mentatalee. I need his help for-"
"Stop!" Otto suddenly half-shouted, as if he was now genuinely surprised. He approached Alan. Like other Sangheili, he stood at nearly two feet taller than Alan, and the mutant could not help but feel intimidated as the Arbiter peered intently into his own eyes, peering down at him as if peering at a child that had let slip some dirty word.
"How do you know Cujo?" he asked intently. "What do you want with him?"
"He didn't tell you about me, did he?" Alan asked, his lip starting to curl into a half-smile. "Sounds like he kept his word then."
"What do you mean?" Otto demanded. "How do you know Cujo 'Mentatal?"
"Well," Alan replied, "to cut a long story short, Kiryuu Knight sent us both into Chicago, right into the middle of an Invae nest, to get a heart-shaped crystal that he'd lost in there. Kiryuu claimed it was for sentimental value, but I wasn't born yesterday." He paused for a moment. The events in Chicago were rather painful for him to recollect. There had been sights in there which reminded him of struggles from further in his past, experiences which he had hoped never to repeat.
"As it turned out, that crystal held the soul of Dunkelzahn himself! He was killed about 500 years ago, and yet there he was, clear as day! If it hadn't been for him, then me, Cujo, and everyone else with us would have been bug-food, or worse Invae drones, by now."
"Dunkelzahn..." Otto muttered. "I heard Telek speak of him... Was he not one of your Earth's... what do you call them... Presidents?"
"That's right," Alan nodded. "It turned out that he arranged his own assassination, so that he could try to stop this monster called King Ghidorah from coming back to Earth. Things didn't quite go according to plan though, so using that crystal he could come back to the world of the living to help us out. Kiryuu chewed him out for keeping him in the dark about his plans, I can tell you."
"So you were also acquainted with Kiryuu Knight?" Otto asked.
"You could say that, Shipmaster," Alan replied. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you know him?" Otto let out a deep sigh, and a look of regret could be seen on his alien face.
"I fought alongside him many times," he replied. "He even bested me once in combat. That was almost a lesson to me of just how powerful he was. He earned my respect, and I fought by his side to the very end."
"To the end?" Alan asked. "So you know what happened to him?"
"Of that, I am not certain," Otto said quietly. "The last time I saw him after we escaped the Ark, he was with the Spartan known as the Master Chief, in the hangar of the vessel we had used to escape. Telek and I succeeded in reaching the bridge, but the explosion engulfed half of the ship, including the hangar. We lost the aft half of our ship when we entered slip-space, the half which Knight and the Spartan were inside. Like so many others, I assumed that they had died."
Alan had the feeling that there was a great deal missing from Otto's summary. There was still much that he did not know about certain events from the war, and others were reluctant to discuss these details with him given that he did not have the proper clearance. Otto had an almost wistful look on his alien features as he addressed Alan again.
"When I saw your face on the communicator," he said, "I thought for a moment that I was looking at Knight once again. I did not believe that I would see him again after we parted ways, and I do not believe it a coincidence that you resemble him so much."
"Well, that's a long story, Shipmaster," Alan said, "and not one I like to repeat, if you'll pardon me."
"Very well," the Shipmaster said. "If that is what you wish. However, you will answer my next question."
"Go ahead, Shipmaster," Alan said, sounding slightly wary.
"Why do you need Cujo's help?" Otto asked. "You were about to say that you needed his help for something."
Alan paused for a moment, clearing his throat. He had tried to rehearse his statement carefully, but now speaking to a Sangheili face-to-face seemed to have driven it from his mind.
"I..." he said. "I need him to help me find Kiryuu's body. From what I could tell, he thought pretty highly of your people. If anyone could have helped me to find him, Cujo could have." At this, Otto looked away, sighing. His expression was difficult to read, almost showing pity.
"So you have the same notion as Telek..." he said.
"Forgive my ignorance," Alan said, "but who's Telek? Cujo mentioned him a few times too, but I didn't get round to asking who exactly he was."
"I imagine that he would talk about him often," Otto said. "Telek 'Heros is the Supreme Commander of the Fleet Shadow of Fury, in which this ship lies under his command. Cujo served under Telek prior to their defection to the side of the humans during the war, and then went with him when he went to the UNSC." He paused for a moment, his eyes closed, as if he was speaking of a particularly fond subject for him. "Telek was my second-in-command when I was the Supreme Commander of the Fleet Particular Justice. I was Telek's mentor and teacher."
"Actually," Alan said, "I seem to remember Cujo telling me something about a martial art that only a few among your people know, called Para'rothu, which Telek taught him. It's pretty deadly as well, from what I saw of it in action. The only other person I've seen move that fast was Kiryuu. I suppose that means that you were the one who originally taught it to Telek."
Otto chuckled slightly at this. It seemed that Telek's rebellious behaviour did not seem to surprise him at all. Quite the opposite, in fact; he seemed to be almost entertained by it.
"Anyway," Alan quickly said, "I guess Cujo and Telek were pretty close-knit. Do you know where either of them is? I wouldn't mind speaking with Telek about this, if I get the chance. It sounds like he had the same idea I did."
"He certainly did," Otto said, sounding more serious. "He acted on this impulse as soon as we left Earth. He commandeered five of our ships from the Fleet Shadow of Fury for this venture, ships which had already served in his rag-tag band of pirates, plus a super carrier which the Council had given him as his own ship had been destroyed. Cujo was also a part of the fleet, and gave his ship to the cause, as did Mitsu and Tulsa. Wago also tagged along with his assault carrier. There was also a human, Tom Jimenez, the Shipmaster of a cruiser which Telek gave to the UNSC as a gesture of goodwill. Their fleet must be on the other side of the galaxy by now, and we do not know what their destination was." He turned his back to Alan and walked back towards the other end of the podium, heaving a deep sigh.
"I do not doubt that Telek's intentions are noble," he said. "If there is something of Knight left to find, then it should be that he is delivered from the arms of oblivion. He and the Master Chief would receive the warrior's salute for fighting valiantly in battle. Unfortunately abandoning his fleet will give the Council grounds to court-marshal Telek and all those who travel with him. They would be stripped of their ranks and their ships. There is even a strong chance that Telek will never see his home-world again." He turned to look back at Alan, now with an expression of the deepest concern.
"If I could work my will," he continued, "Telek would also receive the highest honours. However, we have not been able to communicate with him since he departed from Earth. Either he is far beyond our range, or something has happened to him and his fleet. Of course, if I know him well enough, it is likely that he destroyed the tracking devices we put on our ships to keep tabs on them, as he did when he first defected. As each day passes, I grow increasingly concerned for his welfare."
"Have you tried looking for him?" Alan asked.
"The war is not over for us, Alan Tyler," Otto rumbled. "The Covenant Loyalists still survive, especially the Jirahalnae. They are fragmented, but should they ever unite they will prove to be extremely dangerous. I must place the safety of my people above all other priorities; I am sure Telek would want no less."
It was then that Alan had a sudden idea that raised his chances of his plan becoming successful. It would mean that he had another promise to keep, but if he played his cards right, his chances of finding Kiryuu would increase a hundred-fold.
"Then I can go look for him, Shipmaster," Alan said. "If Telek's also looking for Kiryuu, then there's a fair chance that I'll come across him. I'd be happy to keep an eye out for him... in return for a little favour."
Otto looked at Alan as if he had suddenly started sprouting feathers. He could hardly dare to believe that this creature felt ready to talk about deals, even though they had only known each other for a few minutes. When he thought about it, this idea of asserting some form of control seemed like the sort of thing Kiryuu would do as well.
"As you already know," Alan continued quickly while he had Otto's attention, "my ship is hardly up to the task of finding a speck of dust, let alone Telek's ship. If I'm to have any hope of catching up to Telek and Kiryuu, I need to be able to go much faster than I am at the moment. I'm not going to find anyone if it takes me God-knows-how-many years to get from one side of the galaxy to the other."
"In short," Otto interrupted, catching on to what Alan was hinting at, "you wish for a slip-space drive."
"Precisely, Shipmaster," Alan said. "From what I understand your drives let your ships get anywhere almost instantly. A trip from one side of the galaxy to the other ends up taking just weeks rather than years. I desperately need such a thing if I'm going to find Telek or Kiryuu. The Serenity's an adaptable ship; I'm sure she can handle it."
There was an awkward silence for a moment. Alan wondered if he had overstepped his mark on this matter, and he was half-afraid that the Arbiter would strike him down for some form of impertinence. Otto, meanwhile, was regarding Alan carefully. On the one hand, it seemed to go against every law he could think of to outfit an outsider's ship – an outsider that he had only just met, no less - with Sangheili technology, especially something as powerful as a slip-space drive. On the other hand, if this man really believed that he could find Telek, that was certainly a good thing; he was worried about the rebellious pirate, and feared that even he had got in over his head.
"Your ship is certainly a small one," Otto mused. "I could 'lose' some of the spare parts which we carry, and I am sure our engineers can create a suitable slip-space drive for your ship's purposes. It will be some time before those parts are missed."
"That's good to know," Alan said. "In return, I'll do everything in my power to find Telek and give him whatever help he needs to find Kiryuu. If he's really serious about finding Kiryuu, he'll need my help, and I'm prepared to give it to him."
Otto once again quietly regarded Alan. He wondered what it was that made this being so sure that he was the one who could find Kiryuu, ahead of all of those who had fought alongside him during the war. However, he still felt that the physical similarities to Alan and the late Kiryuu Knight could not be a coincidence, and he wondered if the connections between the two were deeper than he had thought.
"Will you give me your word on that?" he finally said to Alan. "Remember that your word is binding, and should we learn that you have broken it, then there will be nowhere in this galaxy which you can hide."
That's all I need, Alan thought. If I mess this up, I'll have two civilisations hot on my heels. Still, I've read Kiryuu's notes; he always just said to make sure that things don't get that bad.
"You have my word, Shipmaster," Alan said, sincerely, holding his hand out. He was not sure how the Sangheili made gestures of trust, but it seemed that Otto had some understanding of human customs, for he shook Alan's claw.
Christ, Alan, he thought to himself. What are you getting yourself into?