An amused smirk slowly spreads across Salem's face as Ossanlin speaks. Finally, he huffs out a halfhearted laugh. "I suppose that's about the level of trust I'm due on this rock," he says, half to himself. "I'd do a lot of things to get ahead, but intentionally endangering the Andalite people is not on that list." He bows his head to Ossanlin-- as he does, he stands straighter, and his entire bearing seems... different, somehow. More dignified, perhaps. "This means too much to me. You have my sincere gratitude, My Prince."
He looks up, ****s his head, and within a breath, his aura of civility has evaporated. He smirks. "Besides, I think you've found my ultimate collateral. I suppose I'll go grab the Hope-it-works-this-time Drive, then. Trust me, you'll know I'm not lying about this one."
He turns on a heel and walks out the open hatch, calling "You're welcome to watch, if you like," over his shoulder.
Salem strides across the yard towards his own impossibly black craft. As he nears it, the ship's ramp lowers silently to the ground.
"Guy on a mission, ho!" Al calls toward him from the treeline.
Salem grins, knowing this'll confuse Al. "Have to give a Hope Drive to an Andalite!"
For about three full seconds, Al is uncharacteristicall y speechless. Finally, he begins jogging after Salem, a look of concern on his face. "Wait, what?"
Salem comes to a stop about a third of the way up the ship's ramp and looks directly upward, at what looks to be nothing more than a copper-tinted metallic bulkhead. "It's kind of a long story, but trust me, it's worth it. We might just pull this off." Al comes to a stop near the bottom of the ramp, eyebrow raised questioningly, and the two of them stare upwards as the seemingly-solid bulkhead splits across the middle and sort of oozes off to the side.
Behind it is a tarnished, scratched, and even scorched collection of metallic-looking spheres and semi-spheres of various sizes and hues, from a huge reddish one near the center, to a fizz of silver so fine it would be at home on most beaches. It looks a little like a robot's silver bubble bath, covering an area that, all told, spans about the width of Salem's arm-span wide, and not quite twice that in length. From the 'bubble bath' run a number of... silver tentacles or cables, sunk deep into the walls of the compartment in which it sits. There's also a single black-and-white cable from the ship stuck directly into the center of the thing.
Now that the energy-absorbent bulkhead is out of the way, this thing pulses and hums with power, and the hair on Salem's arms stands on end. It doesn't glow, precisely, but it seems too bright for where it sits, as though it were sitting in a ray of sunshine. What's more, the energy coursing through it isn't limited to the physical realm-- to Salem's newest sense, the thing appears to be a... huge pocket of white noise... or a shivering, ever-shifting bright spot... a pulsing white hole of energy and... and something else...
A shiver runs down Salem's spine. If he didn't know better, he'd call that other thing intent. He finally remembers to breathe.
"I haven't opened that since Mar showed me how to see like this..." he mutters.
