* "We'll comb the area for survivors." "Affirmative, command's given you clearance to operate in this district. You have our thanks, helmsman." With that the two vampires broke off and flew back in the direction of the docking bays some miles south. Soon enough the only engine left floating in the sky was their own, and a sky that belonged to them. All it took was a knife in the back; the flames still spilled from the violent wound they'd torn in the crashed phantom below, and Ahkrin knew already that there was no need to look for survivors. "How many?" Ahkrin asked Jeann'ee, who was smiling at their little success. "Fifteen or so. It had to look convincing on their deep-scans. But look at what their sacrifices have brought us, my friend! Free passage to the dreadnought. We'll put down about half a mile west of it and head the rest of the way on foot." "An infiltration? That was never your speciality, if I recall," Ahkrin remembered; Jeann'ee had always been the planner of their missions and had been very good at it, but rarely had he ventured out into the field himself. Jeann'ee mulled this over and shrugged. "I'll just follow your lead. Oh, and make sure you don't lose me by 'accident' in there. Our dear pilot here has the strictest instructions to kill you if you come back without me." Ahkrin looked at the pilot, who sat in his seat stone-faced. The man was built powerfully, and he even had an energy sword hanging from his waist; its hilt was worn with use. He did not doubt that if Jeann'ee didn't return, the man would follow through on the order. They flew for several more uncomfortable minutes, Jeann'ee's open threat having killed any of the light discussion in the phantom. Eventually they touched down softly on the ground, the phantom's disequilibrium drive silently powering down. The door opened with a hiss not unlike that of a snake, and Ahkrin waited for Jeann'ee to jump out. "You first, friend," Jeann'ee motioned, a sly smile about his lips. "I know how clumsy your trigger finger can be." "You mistake me for yourself," Ahkrin scorned as he conceded to the demand and carefully jumped from the phantom to the ground a few feet below. "I don't help a man climb up only so I can push him down further." "Was that supposed to be an insult?" Jeann'ee mocked as he stepped down behind him, and the door to the phantom swung shut. "Leave the wit to the witty, Ahkrin. It does not become you." Ahkrin ignored that, and instead chose to look around at where they had set down. He'd never been into the district of the keyship, but he had heard tales of its splendour and beauty which could not be properly appreciated from a distance. He saw now the tales were true; all around him rose impossibly ornate cathedrals, churches, chapels - even the housing had an air of devoutness about it. A soft golden slow permeated the air; small particles of the most insubstantial hard light, weighing far less than the air around it and hovering with ephemerality all about them, giving the atmosphere a heavenly glow. He saw cardinals and deacons walk around; all were San 'Shyuum - a religious man of any other species could not hope to be granted a position in the most holiest of areas in this most holy of cities. Ahkrin heard they devoted all their time to studying ancient Forerunner texts, gleaning what they could from such fractured records - that was what the sanctum said, anyway. In reality, Ahkrin doubted they could even read half of what was written, and understood even less. Only the Huragok were fluent in the language of the transcended, and they were not partial to divulging what they knew. "They're looking at us," Ahkrin muttered to Jeann'ee, who had moved to his left now. "And all they see are two uniformed Sangheili who have just stepped out of a Covenant phantom. Move like you have purpose and we shall find no trouble from them - their eyes are so affixed on the heavens, it is no small wonder that they don't crash into walls." "It's not the prophets who concern me, rather the Mglekgolo who stand guard over them," Ahkrin retorted, pointing at the tall figure in the near distance. The hunter stood almost so stoic that he could be dead, but the assault beam affixed to its right limb glowed with life and in its left a shield almost as tall as a Sangheili, and nearly as dangerous too. Jeann'ee scoffed. "They're just worms, my friend. Lekgolo stay out of Sangheili way, and it has been as such ever since Imperial Admiral Grymar'ee brought about their taming when you and I were still sucking on our mothers' teats." "I know that, but they would still snap us in two if a prophet commanded it," Ahkrin grumbled, annoyed that Jeann'ee had thought him so unaware that he did not even know of the taming of the hunters. "Then see that they don't. We should get moving... I hope you can see the dreadnought?" "Obviously," Ahkrin bit back. It would be impossible not to; the inverted prong of the Forerunner ship rose high into the sky above them, casting an evanescent shadow over all the district. Above the houses and buildings of worship, the Huragok flew in thousands, all attending to the dreadnought in some shape or form - some cleansed it so it remained as pristine as it had been thousands of years ago, and others carried the small eels of the singular Prlekgolo, to be gently lowered onto the ship so they could burrow their way inside and carefully search its hull for any ports or circuits which could be interfaced with. "It's awfully big," Jeann'ee observed as they began a casual walk in its direction. "Where exactly are we to go once we're in?" San 'shyuum casually looked in their direction, but when the saw the insignia of the army on their armour they quickly returned to their pensive expressions, mulling over theological mysteries and most of them lies. Ahkrin considered the question. [i]I had not really thought of that,[/i] Ahkrin realised. [i]I just assumed that once we got to the dreadnought, something would happen.[/i] "The bridge," he replied, guessing it would be as good a place as any to go. Jeann'ee let out a titter. "Are you hoping to find Forerunner pilots? Who knows, maybe there are. With all the secrecy and red tape around the dreadnought, I wouldn't be surprised if we found their whole bloody empire sleeping in stasis inside." "That's unlikely," Ahkrin shot down. "You need not worry about my quarry, it does not concern you." "I don't think it concerns you either. It seemed to me Sorran was the one pushing for you to head to the dreadnought. Who's to say whatever you're searching for wants to be sought out by you?" [i]Another good point. We could very well end up just walking around the empty corridors of the dreadnought for hours, with nary a word from the oracle.[/i] "Again, none of your concern. You're here because of extortion, and for no other reason," he stated bluntly. He heard a sigh from Jeann'ee. "Does that mean I don't get to talk to the Oracle?" the man asked, and Ahkrin couldn't stifle his gasp. He heard more laughing. "Come now, do you really think I don't know why you--" Jeann'ee was cut off as Ahkrin grabbed his throat and thrust him against the wall of some monastery, out of sight. He pressed a knife to the man's throat. "Bringing you was a mistake," Ahkrin told Jeann'ee, and was tempted to just drag the knife across and be done with the man; he knew too much and accurately guessed the rest. "I'm tired of you acting like you hold all the cards - I should kill you right here, and then I'll head back and kill your pilot too, before continuing [i]alone[/i] to the dreadnought." "N- now see here, Descol'ee," Jeann'ee spluttered, raising a finger and trying to move away from the knife's cold promise. "We had a deal. I've known you seek the oracle from the beginning, and what you want from him is your business, as you say. I have my own plea for our gods' messenger." "You what?" Ahkrin demanded, curiosity all that stayed his hand. Jeann'ee nodded as much as the knife would allow him. "I'm going to ask him to help my cause. [i]Our[/i] cause. Listen; if the oracle himself lambasted the regime of the hierarchs and the sanctum, the people would trip over themselves in their eagerness to depose them. I intend to free the oracle from the prison the hierarchs have left him in; take him out from the dreadnought and let him be a voice of guidance for our people. He can help us forge democracy, he can tell us of our lords' true plans for us, help forge peace between we and the humans... he can guide us all to the sacred rings, and show us how to follow in Their footsteps." "... madness," Ahkrin concluded, taking back his knife and letting Jeann'ee breathe freely. Even after having his life nearly taken away from him, Jeann'ee did not shy away from a challenge. "As I said before, if the kindling's right it only takes one match to burn a forest, even one so twisted and bitter as the sanctum. The oracle's the kindling; we're told He does not speak, but none are allowed to see Him. What makes you so sure this is madness?" [i]Because the Forerunners are not gods, and the 'sacred rings' will kill us all![/i] Ahkrin wanted to scream at the man, but he couldn't. Instead he just shook his head, and walked on. "You do what you feel is right, Jeann'ee. Just don't get in my way."