A/N:This chapter is mostly exposition, but don't worry—the next chapter starts the action! Enjoy!

Once the mild shock of meeting a familiar face in such an unlikely place had passed, Tim gathered himself as quickly as he could and followed N'Tho to the bridge. As he did so, he made sure to keep an eye and ear (hole?) out for anything of interest on the way—ship layouts, protocols, who saluted whom—but otherwise decided not to speak unless spoken to for the time being. One thing that managed to catch his attention was that, compared to the strictly utilitarian architecture of UNSC vessels, Covenant vessels—or, at least, this one, assuming it was typical—tended to have a much more artistically-designed interior, though not without sacrificing practicality. Human warships were designed such that they did their job, with no consideration for appearance whatsoever. The Great Inspiration was still very pragmatic in its layout, as a warship ought to be—everything in a logical position, making navigating the corridors an easy task—but far greater care had been taken to make it pleasing to the eye as well. Tim supposed that made sense, to some degree; the Covenant were a religious organization as much as they were a military alliance, and a clear aesthetic style made for an excellent visual statement. They were not simply waging war for defense or secular objectives, they were proselytizing to the galaxy in the process. For insane genocidal fanatics, they at least have a decent sense of style... As they entered the bridge, another clear difference between human and covenant ship design became apparent: whereas the bridge of a UNSC vessel was often cramped, designed to fit the maximum amount of stuff in a minimum amount of space, this ship used a far more open layout, the command center and helm sharing the same massive room with the CIC, navigation, and operations center. The room featured three floors, the lowest being ops, CIC and navigation sharing the second floor, and the top floor housing the command center and helm. The latter floor was arranged such that the shipmaster could look over a balcony at each floor below it for ease of communication and observation of each area; one entire wall of the room was a massive window, providing a wide and clear field of view for the front of the ship. That too was unique to Covenant ships; no UNSC vessel used windows unless absolutely necessary, as they were considered structural weaknesses. The shield tech the Covenant possessed, on the other hand, allowed them to get away with this, which in turn enabled them to rely on more than just passive and active sensors. Jamming those sensors would only do so much here, whereas a human warship would be nearly blinded by such an attack. Which made Tim more than a little grateful that the UNSC had shipboard AI to handle defense against that sort of thing.

His musings came to an end as he and his escort finally arrived at the top floor of the bridge, where the shipmaster—Khor 'Taremee, as he recalled—stood in wait for him. The Elite in question stood slightly shorter than his peers, though the palpable sense of authority that he seemed to project more than made up for it. He was visibly older than most Sangheili that Tim had thus far encountered, but his dark blue eyes shone with focus and energy honed by a lifetime of war. This was not merely a captain in rank, but a genuine captain in both mind and spirit. It wasn't hard at all to understand why Tim's escort bowed to the elder Sangheili, an action that Tim had little trouble replicating. After all, if Khor had been human, Tim suspected that he might have been shown about the same level of respect for the exact same reason.

"Welcome aboard, brother," the veteran shipmaster said with a nod. "you appear to be well, in spite of your circumstances."

Tim nodded, gesturing to his scars. "The humans may have left me with mementos of my stay, shipmaster, but I endured. They underestimated the resolve of a Sangheili... and foolishly assumed that I could not understand their tongue."

This elicited a chuckle from the veteran Elite. "As expected of a race so lacking in discipline. You spoke of information?"

"Indeed, Shipmaster," Tim nodded. "In between their attempts at interrogation, they posted guards outside my cell; the fools talked regularly. One spoke of a colony they hailed from on the fourth world of what the humans refer to as the 'Rhodes system' that possessed a long-range communication center; this place provided an important information hub connecting other similar colonies. On my way out, I managed to force one of them to show me where it was on a galaxy map."

Khor nodded, then brought up a holographic map from a nearby console. "Show me."

Hope they haven't already gone through that area... Tim thought as he pointed to the system in question. "Here, Shipmaster."

After a few moments, Khor clicked his mandibles and tilted his head in contemplation. "Hmm. If I recall correctly, I believe that would be the system orbiting around En-Qro... that is not terribly far from here. We have yet to sweep that particular region, but it is on the frontier of the humans' area of control, so it is not entirely unplausible that they may have installations there. What sort of defenses should be expected?"

"Their fleets rarely patrol the system, Shipmaster, as they are becoming stretched thin preserving larger colonies. The guard in question feared that we would stumble upon it in such a defenseless state. They do have heavy ground-to-orbit cannon emplacements that could pose difficulty, however."

A few moments of silence passed as the Shipmaster considered this. "Hmm... it could well be a trap. But if not, it is a worthy target—by destroying this, we could potentially blind their eyes and silence their mouths, and potentially even use their own facility to locate other enemy holdouts in the region. I must consult with my superiors and see what ships they can spare; regardless, you have done well, brother. You not only endured torture and interrogation, you escaped your imprisonment single-handedly and evaded pursuit with skill in spite of your injuries. I presume you wish to remove the shame of your capture as soon as possible?"

"Indeed, Shipmaster."

Khor gave the Sangheili equivalent of a warm smile. "A worthy answer. Very well; I hereby assign you temporarily to this ship's special operations contingent, pending formal permanent posting to SpecOps from high command. When next we face the humans, you will be among those first to engage—and in doing so, regain your honor tenfold! 'Sraomee, escort him to the infirmary for examination; once that is done, show him to your group's quarters."

"It shall be done at once, Shipmaster," N'Tho said with a deep bow. "Come, brother—I would hear the tale of your escape while you receive your examination!"

Soon, Tim found himself being looked over by an Unggoy physician as he regaled N'Tho with a slightly embellished version of his cover story. The SpecOps Elite practically ate up the story with gusto, and exchanged a couple of anecdotes of his own in return. As their conversation continued, Tim used the opportunity to ask about recent events in the Covenant under the guise of catching up on what he'd missed during imprisonment. N'Tho was quite forthcoming, though he rolled his eyes once or twice at certain decisions by those he considered unworthy leaders. Some things are universal, I suppose, Tim thought with some amusement, sharing a genuine chortle at such things. Lord knows the UNSC brass can be fucking stupid from time to time. At last, the examination was over, and Tim was given a clean bill of health—albeit with instructions to rest through the next two shifts and report back for a final check-up afterwards. With that, he was escorted towards the barracks; compared to the standard barracks they passed through on the way, the SpecOps barracks were more "comfortable"—albeit not to the degree that one would forget they were on board a warship, and that battle could occur at any moment. Unlike the regular barracks, each berth was somewhat partitioned off, granting some slight degree of privacy, though not in truly separate chambers from the rest. His own partition contained two bunks, the leftmost of which was his own. The other was empty; according to N'Tho, it currently had no owner, as the previous occupant had fallen in the line of duty. For the time being Tim would sleep alone—something that the transformed human was silently grateful for.

N'Tho left Tim to rest shortly afterwards, leaving him alone with his thoughts; soon, this would be his regular life, and he would have to play the role to the hilt at all times. It wouldn't be easy, maintaining this false identity while simultaneously keeping himself from being lost to it—that much was obvious—but as things stood, he had been accepted fully for the moment, and was granted space and time enough to remind himself of who he truly was and why he was truly there.

Here's hoping my luck holds up...