Helsinki Markov didn’t know this ship…

He’d studied it of course. The limited information and blueprints that Commonwealth agents had managed to smuggle out of Covenant territory (at great cost in both resources and lives) had been pored over and studied extensively, for this was an opportunity that had to be taken. It was an operation that could not afford to fail. Success in securing the Prometheus and its prototype generator could alter the balance of power in the developed world. Still, however familiar he was with the ship’s systems and layout, he didn’t know it, didn’t understand it in that way that could only come with time. With luck, he wouldn’t be on board long enough for it to matter.

He knew this ship.

From the thrum of the generators to the pulse of the Sturginium core he knew the heart of this vessel intimately. He could read the plethora of brass gauges as well as any written report. He could tell the approximate speed in knots just from the symphony of noises emanating from the engines. At this moment the symphony was loud, cacophonous even. The ship was on a mission, a race against time. They were hunting something.