They crept along like that in the quiet, hearing only a few screams pouring down from buildings as people terrified of the gunfire called for help. They turned into an alleyway, then a passage, then a gap between two buildings--" There! A sudden blur, moving from one end of a building they were wedged between to another. Orpheus looked at Zharn. "I will give chase. You search for the other," he said, running off in pursuit. Although the Jiralhanae was large, he moved surprisingly quick. Zharn backed away in the other direction, hunting down his own quarry. "Come out, if any trace of the true Sangheili you once were remains!" he taunted, hoping that he would draw out the leader. No doubt [i]he[/i] was the one with the answers. "Who are you?" he heard the leader's voice call back, and heard the strain within that voice. Zharn moved towards it swiftly. "One who will bring about your demise," Zharn answered, and edged slowly towards the source of the voice. "You, a traitor to our people." "Men are traitors only when they fail in their goals," he heard the same voice snarl from behind him. Zharn spun around quicker than he'd ever thought he could, a primal instinct making him bring up the rifle to shield himself. It was sheared in two by the energy sword the leader wielded, falling to the ground in two burning halves; the metal curled in upon itself, fire eating up its barrel. The leader brought up his sword again. Zharn looked down at the assault rifle, flame still devouring its shell-- [i]Bang![/i] the gunpowder within the bullets exploded, creating a small explosion. Smoke and heat circled the air around them, allowing Zharn to put some distance between him and the sword. A blue arc sliced through the smoke inches away from his head, meeting nothing but haze and ash. When the smoke cleared, he saw the leader standing opposite to him, his burning blade in the right hand and grasping something in his left. The leader threw it to Zharn, who instinctively caught it. The sword came alive in his hand as soon as he touched it, glyphs racing up the side of the hilt and blue plasma firing around from the magnetic coils. "You still have some honour, then," Zharn conceded begrudgingly. "I know not who you are or why you are interfering, but you have earned yourself the right to die with a blade in hand at least. Take arms." They circled each other in the large street they both stood in; heavy fog obscured either end, and in the distance Zharn could only dimly hear snatches of what was happening between Orpheus and the other surviving executioner. He brought up his blade before his eyes, and the leader mirrored. He uttered a small prayer, and heard it echoed by the other man. Another second of silence passed. Then they went at it. * "Absolutely out of the question," Sorran spoke matter-of-factly, breaking the icy atmosphere that had fallen as soon as Jeann'ee had issued them his terms. For several minutes now they'd all simply picked away at their starter courses. "There is no negotiable room here," Jeann'ee insisted firmly, still in that level voice of his. Sorran glanced over at Ahkrin and saw only a blank slate, completely unreadable. "If you want to get into the Dreadnought, I come with you." "Why?" Sorran demanded lividly, fingers gripping the underside of the table so tightly he was worried it might cave. "What is there for you there?" "What is there for [i]you[/i] there?" Jeann'ee echoed, a sly smile creeping its way up the side of his face. "Don't think for a second I buy your story that Truth just decided to have Restraint killed on a whim and then impose an entire lowdown on the station just so he can hunt you down. There's far more to this, the Dreadnought is involved somehow, and I'm curious." "You'll just have to stay that way, because we're not bringing you with--" "He's coming," Ahkrin interjected tiredly. Sorran looked at him with betrayed eyes. "Ahkrin?" was all he demanded with apoplexy. He leant towards his friend, speaking in hushed tones. "Were I to meet this... sorry excuse for a man under better circumstances I'd drive my sword into his worthless gut." "I've done that, he's tougher than he looks," Ahkrin muttered distractedly. "Don't ask and don't bring it up, I'm hoping he's put it behind him. Sorran; we need to get into the dreadnought, correct?" Confliction danced through his mind. Reluctantly he nodded. "We must speak with the Oracle." "Then Jeann'ee comes with us," Ahkrin said conclusively, drawing away and clapping his hands with an air of finality. "It's rude to whisper," Jeann'ee called across down the table, a smile still on his face as he tucked into the bread roll before him. "You are sure you can get us into the Dreadnought?" Ahkrin demanded, pointing his butter-knife at the other Sangheili accusatively. "It's one of the most guarded locations on this station." "There's no place on High Charity my shadow doesn't fall across," Jeann'ee assured them, although to Sorran that sounded more like an ominous threat. "You agree to my terms?" "... agreed," Sorran finally conceded, hating himself for doing so. Here he was, partnering with a trafficker in drugs, slaves, assassination, blackmail, children; every single debauch practice under the sun played about Jeann'ee fingertips, and with that one word Sorran was placing himself in that hand too. "Tomorrow morning would be ideal," Ahkrin dictated, all business. "Then we'll need you to arrange transport of this station. Payment--" "Taking me with you to the Dreadnought is payment enough," Jeann'ee interrupted, waving his hand with the disregard of one who cared not for money. "I want you to succeed in whatever you're doing, Ahkrin. I have no love for the Covenant." "Or the people in it," Ahkrin jabbed harshly, before rising from the table. "I grow tired of this parlez. Have the food sent up to our room. Let's go, Sorran. We have much to discuss." [i]Ahkrin's settled back into his role as the leader,[/i] Sorran noted as he too rose from his chair and moved to follow his friend. That assured him in some way, but made him a little uneasy in another the past few months had imbued Sorran with a sense of self-confidence he had no possessed before, and he found himself no longer complacent to follow Ahkrin like a blind sheep. Still, they were in his world now. A world Sorran was soon growing to despise. * It was with heavy hearts that Sorran opened the door to his quarters, stumbling inside. He'd just spent the better part of three hours talking with Ahkrin, catching him up on everything that had happened during his 'death' and vice versa. "You're still in that same spot," he remarked to the Huragok in the corner of the room, who looked up suddenly as if it were a dormant machine turned on. "What's your name again?" The Huragok paused for a moment, before bringing up its tendrils and slowly making elaborate, overly-exaggerated movements with those deft limbs. Sorran recalled his patchy knowledge of Huragok signing. [i]Easily caught by wind[/i] it signed to him. Sorran took a few seconds to remember how the Huragok named themselves; after how they floated in-atmosphere after their 'birth.' "I'm Sorran," he said in case it didn't know its name. "I know we never spoke much at Restraint's, but I promise I'll take good care of you, Wind." The Huragok made an affectionate noise not unlike a cat purring, and its bioluminescence glowed brighter. Then that familiar sharp look returned to its eyes, and it turned away. Sorran shook his head with a wry smile, wondering what the creature's thoughts were like. "To be so innocent," he muttered wistfully, walking to the small lectern he'd been granted and taking a seat at it. A small click of his fingers summoned a flame-orb from a small grove in the wall, and it hovered some inches off the surface of the lectern. Sorran reached into his pocket and pulled out the data crystal Restraint had given him. It was as dull and lifeless as a grey pebble; hadn't reacted since the first time he'd picked it up. Sorran was concerned it had been damaged somehow. "Can you take a look at this?" he asked Easily Caught By Wind, who looked over and made a small noise of annoyance, as if Sorran had just interrupted it in the middle of an important calculation. A small tendril edged towards him, gently probing at the crystal he held out to it. After a few moments it recoiled, shaking its head resolutely and returning back to whatever it was thinking about. Sorran stared after it for a few moments, before looking back down at the lifeless crystal and stowing it away with a sigh. [i]Am I doing the right thing here?[/i] he wondered. Officially, the Oracle had never spoken since the San 'Shyuum first discovered the Dreadnought back when Janjur Qom was still whole, all those thousands of years ago before they'd first discovered the Sangheili. Sorran knew it had spoken to the hierarchs ten years ago, but other than those fleeting words nothing. Did he really think it would break its silence to speak with he, a common Sangheili? He was having trouble quantifying everything that had happened in the past week. Before then, he'd believed he'd have many, many years of training before Hem passed away, and had secretly hoped that the time would be right for Hem to reveal the truth tot he Covenant before then. Now everyone else who knew was dead aside from he and Ahkrin, and Sorran still suspected Ahkrin had his doubts about the whole sordid affair.