" Commander, you must have heard stories about this weapon." He pointed a the sword. " I would like to add a story to it." Some present grinned. That's why the Master had a nickname: the Crazy Monk. One reason of the name was, that even in dangerous situaties, the Master Jian, was always telling stories, reciting poetry or singing songs.
Orlov's attention had been drawn and he nodded. As if he was presenting a Roman legion the Crazy Monk rose again. " My name is Jian, I am human. This sword's name is Jian, it bears the essence of this human world and once played an enormous role in Asia. It is mine by descend and by conquest. But it is broken. In this state his power is fragmented and chaotic."  The dominating figure paused. " I know a way to heal this sword. On this planet lives the only craftsman, who can restore the sword and its power." The Master paused again, drawing every-one's attention, he smiled inwardly. " How easy they could be fooled". He turned his head to commander Orlov. " I ask permission to organise a searchparty to find this craftsmen or the necessary technique."
This all seemed innocent enough, Orlov thought, but the Master was reknown for complicated intriques and was a conspiracy-expert. Plans behind plans. But he accepted the importance of the sword for the master, who was about to loose his homeplanet. " If there is no interference with our plans," He looked up at the Master, which made him feel uncomfortable, who shook his head, " Than I grant you permission for a small searchteam." The Master smiled. " You won't be disappointed. This sword will change the destiny of my future." That last remark made Orlov uneasy, but Jian being away, meant a lot less potential  turbulence on the mothership. " Meeting closed." , Orlov said. He too knew what his future would bring; so he thought.