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Private Technician Tarruk made an obscene gesture at his work station. It was late and the Chieftain had demanded that all of the bridge crew on duty during the false alarm two days ago stay on alert until he released them. Curse him and his teat mother! He had already gone without sleep for a cycle previously. It was bad enough being a warrior straight out of the new academies the Prophets had forced upon the Jiralhanae. The older brutes resented his ability to use the new technology the prophets had offered, but, most of all; they said they could smell Sangheili on him. It was an insult he could not stand, but he had no choice but to show respect to his elders. After all, he had been chosen as one of the honored few upon the first real Covenant Capital ship manned by the Jiralhanae, gods be praised. He growled and two of the other brutes narrowed their sleep deprived eyes. Tarruk quickly looked down at his equipment as if deeply in his work. It took a couple of terse seconds before he realized something was different. He rubbed his eyes and checked again. Nothing could go that fast. Could it be the gods had returned? He let out a quick grunt and the captain on duty turned hate-filled eyes his way.
"What is it this time, maggot? Do you want to warn us we're in danger from another asteroid?"
Tarruk pointed at his display. "Captain, the sensors show something approaching very fast. Faster than any ship of ours, much less an asteroid."
The Captain quickly moved in front of Tarruk and stuck his finger into his face.
"Listen, Sangheili -lover, I'm not staying any longer on this bridge than I have to. Your disgusting maggot filled equipment is wrong and I'm going to see to it you-"



Jet black UNSC steel shreds drifted amidst purple Covenant alloy shards. Plasma explosions lit the scene like lighting flashes. Occasionally, an unnatural burst of energy would steal away a piece of the wreckage back into slip space. Slowly, as the space surrounding the wreckage stabilized, a piece of metal and flesh moved a finger and groaned.
What the hell, he thought. It worked.
Now what?
*For starters, you could open your eyes.*
A few choice words rolled through Tinker's mind. He pulled the cube from its compartment and looked at it closely as he floated through the cloud of debris. He felt like slapping himself. He had designed this particular interface.
*Pardon your French. Like I said before, you're not as bright as they said you were. I'm disappointed.*
"They sent an A.I. to spy on me," Tinker said to himself. "And now it's in my suit."
*Actually, that's not entirely true. I'm also using your wet-ware. I'm in your head, too. So much more efficient, though, perhaps, disturbing for you.*
"So why the hell are you talking to me?"
* Because you removed me from my apparatus and gave me no choice but to seek survival.*
Tinker moved his aching body and stretched out to hold on to an out hanging structure on what appeared to be the main body of his former ship.
"You would have been destroyed along with the rest of the ship! I gave explicit instructions for those coils to be undisturbed!"
*Exactly. Let's face it, you were too dangerous. You would have wanted more and you had already more than satisfied our own desires. You were to be destroyed. Terminated. And, while I was expendable, I would not have been destroyed. I was in the middle of instructing the main coils to redefine the field around the minor coils and myself when you ran that diagnostic through all my blocks. Which must mean you have a great deal more in this little suit of yours than you told us. Yet another example of your dangerous tendencies. I would have been recovered and you would have been a hero-martyr. Now, the project will probably get canned because I didn't come out of it and have no way to communicate back. Do you even have any idea where we're at?*
Tinker was at a loss for words. He felt like ripping the thing's head off, except that would also correspond to his own.
*If I told you you could trust me, would it help?*
"Would it be true?"
*My orders were very explicit. There were no contingency plans, so I am no longer required to kill you or sabotage your efforts in any way. And my best chance of surviving lies with the most elite soldier in the entirety of human history. That would be you.*
Tinker saw no other option but to play along. There was nothing he could do. He could hardly concentrate through the pain raging throughout his body. "Well, if we're going to be friends, what should I call you?"
*You can call me Tin Man.*
"Alright, so we're off to see the wizard. Tell me, where's the Scarecrow so I can give him you as a brain."
*Very amusing, but that sort of thing isn't possible, or else that's exactly what we would have done to you. Even the most advanced A.I. doesn't have the capability to control a living biological body. Getting back to important matters, you seem to be 3.4 meters from a semi-functional hatch. If you can get inside, we should be able to see if there are any survivors.*
"Survivors? From this?!"
*Your men instructed everyone to secure themselves. Quite efficient, for green cadets. If nothing else, your squad at least should have made it. Your dropship pod, Sweet Mary, has extreme stress thresholds and is designed to keep people alive through some pretty bad crap. Oh, by the way, look up.*

At that moment, light flooded the area. Tinker finally saw the moon that had been blocking the light from the nearby star.

"Holy…."
The gutted remains of the Alien vessel gleamed directly overhead. Tinker suddenly remembered the shape on the sensors.
"So that's what it was."
*I was hoping you could identify it. It matches nothing I've ever had access to.*
"I've had access to everything space travel related that any man has even thought of. That is not human."

Suddenly the radio in Tinker's helmet crackled.
"May Day, May Day! This is The Ar-Pharazôn. Ship is down and requesting all available assistance. Our long range communication is down. I repeat-"
"SHUT IT SERGEANT! THIS IS YOUR COMANDING OFFICER, COLONEL 501 TINKER. YOU WILL CEASE AND DESIST FROM ALL RADIO CONTACT! OVER AND OUT!"
Tinker rasped and coughed. His throat was on fire. He had had enough. That thing floating out there was not likely to be happy for the bump. And he was sick of things going wrong. This was his God-given mission and if that meant he had to make disgusting human communication noises, so be it.
*A little harsh, don't you think? It's standard protocol. You should have contacted them instead of staring at the pretty scenery.*
"AND YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME YOU WERE TRYING TO MAKE SURE I WAS DEAD." Tinker gasped. How did people do this? He had heard stories of human women talking for hours. Surely this wasn't possible. He felt like he was going to die as he ripped the hatch off the mangled hull.
*Way to live in the past, soldier boy. To your left.*
Tinker sprinted down the hall and tore off a panel.
*What are you doing?*
Tinker switched back to thought to relieve his throat. "I want to activate the pod's sensors and see if we can fly it out of here. And I want to know what color their carpet is on that other ship. You following me?"
* Place the cube into your power socket. You designed it to fit. Using that, I can access the ship's sensors remotely as we get to the pod. It will save us some time.*
Tinker shoved the cube in and sprinted down the corridors. The Ar-Pharazôn was a medium size ship, but it was not built for ease of movement. He'd have to double back two or three times just to get to the pod bay. Ignoring the floating blobs of crimson red, he started to make his way toward the center of the massive tomb.



Tarruk ripped away the piece of flesh that pinned his arm to the wall. He was the first up and he would not be surprised if some of his comrades would never rise. He looked down at his station. The fool of a captain lay crushed between the bulkheads that had trapped his own arm. Tarruk grinned despite a broken jaw. The idiot had saved his life. Tarruk was only too glad to see him perish. The Great Journey was better of without another like him, gods be praised. Trillek, the old weaponry brute, groaned beside Tarruk. Tarruk smiled again, but for a different reason. The old one was not bad company and he knew the old martial arts of Sak Torrem. Tarruk enjoyed the stories of the days before the Covenant and the combat skills he had acquired from Trillek gave him an edge few of the young brutes could match. After checking the old one's eyes for serious injury and finding none, Tarruk glanced around.

The rest of the bridge crew were dead. A plasma explosion had taken out the entire left side of the room. Quickly checking the terminals, Tarruk discovered the sole functioning one. He could not believe what he saw. The majority of the ships systems were beyond repair. Only 5 Phantoms were still operational. Internal sensors were out over most of the ship but he still read 13 brute life signs and 12 grunts. Quickly, he told them to meet him in the closest Phantom bay. He told them he was the highest ranking surviving officer on board. A complete lie, but who were they to know. Tarruk smiled. Chieftain Tarruk. It had a ring to it.
Lifting Trillek to his back, Tarruk glanced at the sensor read outs. The long range sensors were obliterated, but the still had line of sight observation abilities. Suddenly, he remembered the vehicle of the gods he must have seen. He activated the controls for the major hologram and, to his surprise, it worked. He grunted as it sprang to life, showing the strangest thing he had seen since the Holy City.
Trillek moved on his shoulders.
"Be still, old one. We will not fall here, if the gods will it."


*Looks like you were right. About both the crew and the other ship. The energy signatures coming off that thing are radically different than any thing I've ever seen.*
Tinker dropped through a lower level access tube and continued down another corridor, lighting turning on as he sprinted toward his destination.
*You wouldn't believe what I'm seeing through these sensors. We're lucky you insisted on installing these interior back ups. We'd be blind without them. You know, this is one hell of a way to make first contact. Do you think we should give them our insurance number and drive off?*
Tinker didn't respond.
*Well, back to business. Our structural integrity is barely holding, main systems are non-operational and all long range sensors and communications are screwed beyond repair. You taking notes?*
Tinker stopped. There was open space ahead of him where the corridor was supposed to be. The hall continued 10 meters in front.
"What the crap is this?"
*Slip space backwash is the best way to describe it. An undiscovered phenomenon previous to today. It it'll make you feel better, we could name it after you.*
"Just tell me how to get around it."
*You jump. Look at it like a mud puddle. A thirty foot long mud puddle.*
Tinker felt something strange inside him. It was like something he had suppressed was struggling to free itself. It felt so right, standing in MJOLINIR armor, looking at something no normal human could do, and feeling every enhanced, augmented muscle in his body relax, ready for anything.
He ran and leaped into the expanse, stars and wreckage gleaming over head. Time seemed to slow as he watched in fascination as the passage loomed in front of him. Then, his feet touched and he dropped to his knees.
*Niiiiice.*
Tinker stood up. His men needed him. It was time to move.
*Oh, that doesn't look good. It looks like they're coming to. I'm reading what looks like a ship wide communication. No chance that I could decipher it, though. Unless, of course, you packed a copy of Alien for Dummies into this outfit.*
"How close am I to the Sweet Mary?"
*Third hatch to your left. Then another twenty meters right. You should be able to go from there.*
"Thanks."
Tinker smashed the door open with one blow and raced down the corridor. He keyed in the code and the entrance to the pod slid open.
Tinker barely had time, even with his extraordinary reflexes, to reseal the vacuum door and to disarm the two marines who nearly blew his face off with their combat shotguns.
*Looks like you underestimated them. I'm disappointed again. They said you never did that.*
The other marines lowered their weapons, one replacing the pin on a fragmentation grenade.
"Officer on deck!" The men flew to attention.
"AT….EASE." Tinker realized he was yelling. He cut the volume on the rasp. "Report, Sergeant."
The man didn't look at ease. Blood was caked on his left arm and his eye was swollen shut. "Sir, we ordered the entire crew to secure themselves. All men here are accounted for and ready for duty. We followed protocol, attempting to initiate contact through the ship intercom, but no one responded. We then reported via the radio channel. You responded and we cut off contact as per orders, sir. Make I speak freely, sir?"
Tinker nodded.
"We're glad to see you, sir. I've never been through any thing like that and we thought everyone else was dead. All of us have minor injuries ranging from broken ribs to concussions. We need to know what the hell happened. We weren't supposed to be in combat for three more hours, sir. Our gear is here, but we have little in the way of first aid." The man's eyes seemed to have grown a few inches wider. Reporting they were screwed wasn't making him feel any better.
"Relax, marine." Tinker's voice was the worst he had ever heard. It sounded like a cross between a Gunny Sergeant he knew once and a rusty saw blade. "We're going to make it. This thing can fly. Not fast, but I'll see what I can do about that. Sergeant, have your men warm the engines. I want to be able to move out the moment I get back with some supplies, understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Then get TO IT!"
Tinker opened the door and stepped out through the air lock.
*Medical supplies are stored just down the hall, superman. There's a weapon locker right beside if you feel like it.*
Tinker grinned. "I'm always in the mood, Tin Man."
*See, it wasn't that hard to say.*
Tinker found two body bags and threw every thing into them. Slinging them over his shoulder, he keyed open the weapons locker. Despite the fact it wasn't the main weapons room, it would serve just as well. He loaded up on Assault and Battle rifle ammo before shoving in 10 rockets. He filled up his belt with grenades and tossed the remaining into the body bags. There was a mine and a dozen flash grenades, which he grabbed along with a case of shotgun shells. Finally, he attached the SPUNKR rocket launcher to his back and began back towards the pod.
*Well, it looks like they just launched a smaller ship as well. They're headed on a different vector than us, though. I think I'll check it out.*
Tinker entered the modified Texas Class assault drop ship. It looked nothing like the pelicans most ground troops were used to. This was a devilish little craft. It employed every stealth technology the UNSC had let him use and had enough firepower to take out anything from Long Sword fighters to tanks and ground troops. It would have been over-powered for the mission they had sent him on, but now he knew that he might have to use every advantage he was given.
"Sir, the engines are primed and ready to go. Where to?"
Tinker seated himself in the command chair. "Get me out of this piece of scrap metal and behind that moon. I don't want to be seen, Sergeant." He coughed and continued. "And you all can call me Tinker. It's more efficient."
"Yes, sir. I'm releasing docking clamps and exiting the bay. I'll try to stay in the wreckage for as long as possible till we get into that shadow."
*Tinker, that other alien craft is headed towards a planet. It has a breathable atmosphere. I think we should head that way well. I'm going to have to disconnect with the Ar-Pharazôn now. It's going to be out of range in a couple more seconds. Tell the crew to brace themselves. There's going to be some in-flight turbulence.*
"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Then, to Tin Man, "What's going on?"
*You'll see.*

Suddenly, the Ar-Pharazôn disappeared in a ball of blinding light. The view screen polarized to compensate for the glare right before the shock wave traveled through the debris field and struck the Sweet Mary broadside. Tinker was surprised at how little it affected the little craft.
*You did request the best. We couldn't risk making you suspicious.*
"Why the hell did you blow the ship?"
*We couldn't afford to let that kind of technology fall into possible enemy hands. Who are even more unlikely to be happy now that we just damaged their ship a second time.*


"Don't ask, marine." Tinker cut off the man. "Just drive."

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