Sci-fi Role Play

Agon shook his head "no we don't use money" he then said with glee "its weapons or a ship or something". He looked up "well actually now that I think about it we do use money but just for trading with other races"

"Voras stopped, and looked down the hall. He flexed his mandibles, visibly in thought. The FleetMaster didn't reply, and mulled over the possibilities in his head.

"maybe you'll like a box or two of black hole rifles or antimatter rifles" agon said calmly not trying to change his mind

"Those sound ridiculous, and ineffective." Voras dismissed, and continued down the hall. He would rather use a weapon made by the Covenant. Something that has been proven reliable time and time again to him in the field.

Agon shook his head "more like sadisticly effective and make you want to question your moral compass"

"I'm fine with my own weapons. So are all my warriors. Do you understand?" Voras said, and growled slightly.

He nodded "what about a refurbished ship or a paint job" he paused "or another ship to your fleet"

"You will never bring your kind on my ship." He replied sharply. Then again curled his mandibles in thought . "What kind of ship? If it can stand in combat, maybe. Though it will no doubt be inferior to our vessels." They walked to yet another door, and it opened. Letting the smell of dried blood drift into the hallway. "Commander." Voras said, and gestured to Keller. He turned back around, then continued along with Agon.

"It can stand combat" Agon replied "although I don't think they're gonna give you something that'll be real tough like a carrier but maybe a destroyer or two" he stated

Voras sighed, as much as an Elite could. So it came off as a low growl. "Only after we reach Sanghelios. Then I will consider."

Mason had only recently started paying attention to the two behemoths. He looked up at Agon. "You know, you sound like one of those shitty used-car salesman's. How are we supposed to know if you aren't just fucking with us, and trying to pitch us shit?"

Agon put his finger up to the side of his mouth before having a little bit of an outburst "oh god I do don't I" he put his hands on his head "I hate sales pitches and I just kinda threw one damnit"

"Yeah... So how do we know you ain't full of shit?" Mason said.

"Yes, and how will we crew such a warship?" Voras piped in. "With your species?"

"well that's easy its controlled by a bunch of robots" Agon stated "they can be redirected to have control given over to you" he continued. he then looked to mason and commented "well like any used car just test drive it" and relizing what voras said "wait my species isn't stupid don't make me out as an example for my species" he replied

"I would trust constructs less than I trust you." Voras said. "If you are being truthful, then you may crew it with your..." He paused. "Warriors. They must have a Sangheili Shipmaster however. And I expect nothing less then complete obedience."

"Jesus... You really would be the perfect stereotypical salesman..." Mason muttered.

"Great" Agon said with glee

"Good... Here is your quarters, Human." Voras said to Mason. Mason calmly walked through the door, and hated it already. WHY SO MUCH FUCKING PURPLE! The door closed, and Voras walked down the hall with Agon.

Agon sighed "I cant wait to get this brace off doesn't your race believe in medicine cause this hurts like a mother fucker"

"No, if you are injured in battle you deserve nothing less then death." He said, and looked at Agon's wounds with disgust. "If you spill blood, you are merely tossing away your Honor. Doctors make you bleed while they heal, so they take your honor away in a terrible fashion. They are the lowest of the Sangheili." Voras explained.

"well isn't that awful" Agon said with disgust "personally I'd rather be medicated than have honor but that's just me I don't know bout you" he said with a smug grin looking at voras

"Here are your quarters." Voras said as they neared a door. It flashed, and opened with its usual hum. "You have no honor to begin with. Why you even serve beside me is a mystery worthy of the gods."

Agon laughed "I know right" before stepping in better not tell them our race doesn't believe in a god jeez

Voras walked back down the hall, toward the bridge. He turned to a door directly across from the bridge, and went inside. It was his personal quarters. It was almost the same as every other room, but it had a holographic table in the middle. It could be used for planning fake battles, which occurred on the table with vivid detail. Looking at the readouts of his ships, which brought up a holographic schematic of the ships he chose, or even look at the fleet as a whole. It could even bring up maps of anything it had in its memory, star maps and terrestrial maps. The rest of his quarters was the exact same as the others. The walls on the left and right sides were flat, while the entrance, and back walls remained curved. The ceiling was about ten feet up, pretty high, even for an Elite. The left wall had a set of five ornate weapon holders. The holders held the weapon about a foot above the gravity generator, and was always easily held aloft no matter the weapons size. To his immediate right was a black cocoon like locker. It held any armor that was stored inside, automatically placing certain armor pieces where they would be relative to a body when opened again. The only down side being a blinding white light inside, right behind the armor. Just to the left of the armor locker was a black solid bench. It was about the size of a bed proportioned for an Elite. But it was solid metal. And Voras openly hated it. Lastly, at the rear of the room were two shelves that ran from wall to wall. One was about four feet high, while the other was seven. They were there simply for personal items, or trophies. Voras had nothing special about his room at all, in fact, it seemed stock. He had no unique weapons in the weapon holders, nor trophies on the shelves. He hadn't needed to use the rooms amenities, yet anyway... Voras was tired, so he walked over to the bench, and simply fell asleep, not registering his own discomfort.

Mason took off his helmet, and balaclava, throwing them onto what the aliens must have mistakenly called a bed. Its a fucking brick. I have to sleep on a giant brick. Terrific. He wasn't in desperate need of sleep, so he decided to talk to the people he saw in the hanger earlier. He walked out to the hall, and managed to catch a Grunt walking by. "Hey, don't know if you know English... But can you get me to the hanger?" The thing looked scared to death, but nodded its pudgy masked face. Jesus... Might be my weapons? The thought of walking around armed to the teeth didn't bother him, after all, if all the aliens on this ship reacted this way, why the hell not? They finally reached the hanger, and the little thing ran off right when they got there. Mason made his way across to the obvious Human side, and tried his best to mingle with them.

Agon looked at the room finally realizing the sanghelis horid sence of fashion jeez its purple purple purple with these fucks isn't it he looked around the room and found an averaged sized a seat table and a large rectangular object with a small curve at the end in which he assumed was a bed it didn't look comfortable
he walked over to the table and took off his holster and took the guns out of the holster and set them buy it. He then stood there staring at the bed man I think the floor would be more freaking comfortable than this freakin thing but he shrugged it off and what do ya know his suspicions were true. But he was just happy to be laying down and on his way home even though he had failed his previous misson, he began to talk to himself before he went to sleep.

Keller tossed his bag, helmet, and the torso pieces of his armor onto the bed. Aside from the black body suit he wore, the armor on his legs, and feet, and his white cloak he was unarmored, and more in casual wear for now. He was sick of wearing the same armor for the last few days. So he chose to wear only the bear essentials for now. With that he left his weapons, aside from his blaster pistol and his bowie knife. With that he left his room, looking over at a squad of passing grunts, "You, clean up the blood in there. Mess with any of my gear, and I will behead you. Now I'll be going. I expect it to shine in there when I come back."

As he left, he heard the grunts file into his room, and begin to clean. So with that Keller began to walk towards the hangar, entering and seeing several other humans. However for now he just busied himself with exploring the area.

"-Uh huh. So these purple obsessed aliens are trying to destroy Humanity?" Mason replied to a UNSC soldier. Apparently their current year was 2552. And they still acted like typical soldiers. Soldiers never change, only the equipment... The group of Marines he was with had jabbed some sarcastic jokes at him, because he was from 2014. But he ignored them, laughing them off and getting along easy enough. That and getting some Intel wasn't always bad. He managed to notice the odd white armored soldier guy, walking around and gaping at everything as if he hadn't just been in here. "Hey" He called out, and walked up next to him.