As the group entered the hangar, Uriel abandoned them as he strode quickly across the deck. Sitting crouched next to their transport was Salensral. The War Walker was dark; only a faint glow came from its soulstone. The red light shone on the blue and black armor, making the whole of the machine seem to be black even under the hangar's lights.
As Uriel approached, the machine seemed to come alive somehow. It remained in a half-active state until Uriel raised a hand, for the gifts from Vaul were now floating under the power of his song, and stroked the machine's leg. As he did so, the soulstone blazed to life and the console lights flicked on.
"Sing to me, Salensral," Uriel said to the machine. The aura which enveloped the gifts spread to Salensral. The tools were arranged in their proper places, the gun mounts having been left empty on the journey. Uriel took out his full-sized instrument from the cockpit and played a complex tune, weaving the Ballad of Vaul into Salensral's song, making first introductions between the two even though the weapons had been taught Salensral's song before.
Amazingly, the shield and cannons seemed much more compliant now that they had met Salensral. Uriel began to think that they needed to accept his partner as much as Salensral needed to accept them. All too soon, the weapons and shield device were mounted on Salensral, who had taken over the finale of the song, personally binding the tools to himself.
Freed of his need to sing, Uriel gracefully vaulted into his seat, right above Salensral's stone. The warm feeling of belonging spread through him. He could hear Salensral's song playing strongly, commune with the long-dead spirit on a deeper level than words, or even a song could manage. It was the lack of this feeling pervading his essence that had driven him to be so uncomposed as he had been at the ceremony.
"So," said Uriel from the cockpit as he took the measure of the new weapons, "shall we begin our mission. Also, who shall be our leader on this mission? Shall we assume it to be the Asuryan, or would another like to be the head? If there are to be any tensions for cause of command, I would prefer we deal with them now." Throughout, he kept his voice, demeanor, and face perfectly calm as a warrior should when out of battle. In his mind, though, he knew that the outcasts among them would be at the heart of any issues. Whether they would fight, or just be the catalyst he did not know.
Azore of Ath-Ron