by Kelly Gay
Rion hurried to her chair, knowing exactly where they were. “You took us back to the debris field!” she yelled in disbelief, sliding into her seat and taking immediate evasive action. “Hold on!”
The single-piloted Seraphs were quick and agile combat fighters. During the Covenant War, they would’ve been armed with pulse lasers and plasma cannons, but she could only pray that postwar, their firepower was severely lacking. If not, Ace was in a world of trouble.
With each maneuver made, the Seraphs countered, staying glued to Ace’s tail as Rion piloted the ship between chunks of rock and metal. Debris exploded around them, bouncing against the shields and spraying into their path as the Seraphs’ plasma cannons missed their mark.
“Damn it,” Rion cursed at their luck.
“Captain, if you would allow me control—”
“You’ve done enough.” She had zero time to deal with the armiger or her own shock. All her focus was on getting out of this mess in one piece.
The massive debris field was effectively an entire planet’s worth of detritus available for hide and seek, and Rion used it to their advantage. “Less, find us a pocket. Niko, divert as much power as you can to shields.”
“There!” Lessa pointed to a large chunk of rock with an overhang, under which was black space suggesting a cavern.
Rion pushed Ace’s engines to the limit, surging forward and leading the violet birds through a maze of switchback turns and climbs and dives. As soon as she lost them, she knew they only had moments before being found again. “Niko, dump a decoy.”
“On it. Dummy away, Cap. That should keep them busy.”
Or at the very least confuse them for a bit until Ace could drop beneath the overhang and divert all power to bafflers. Rion directed the ship around the rock once more, reversed her engines, and settled into the shadows.
The faint drone of Ace’s auxiliary power grew loud as the wait stretched on.
“Captain—” began the armiger.
“Shh.”
They stayed quiet for what felt like hours, when in reality only a few minutes had passed. Eventually Rion released her death grip on her controls, as it appeared the Seraphs had given up the hunt.
With a sigh of relief, she turned her full attention on the thing that had put them in this mess; lucky for the armiger she had a surplus of adrenaline to fuel her brewing anger. “Are you out of your mind?”
In the hesitation of it not knowing how to answer that question, Niko jumped in. “Well, it’s not like he knew—”
“Niko—”
“I’ll shut up now.”
The armiger walked to the viewscreen and stared out at the detritus—huge pieces of infrastructure, pylons, support beams, broken facilities, and large chunks of what was land itself—floating past. “When was it destroyed?”
It suddenly dawned on her that it had no idea the world once known as Etran Harborage had been completely obliterated. “Twenty-six years ago,” she answered. “By my father’s ship.”
“The Spirit of Fire,” it said somberly, still staring out the viewscreen. “I did not make the connection prior to the jump. There were no matching coordinates in your ship’s navigational logs to draw that conclusion.”
“Why did you choose this place?” Niko asked.
“I was simply following the path intended for the Rubicon. The Harborage contained an entire dreadnought fleet and supporting shipyard. They had everything I needed. Now . . .”
One of the Seraphs appeared in the distance, a small violet dot slowly patrolling through an ocean of debris.
Rion knew the instant it detected them: it suddenly altered course and went from patrol speed to overdrive. “Damn it.” She fired up the engines, engaged Ace’s thrusters, and hightailed it out of the cavern.
In seconds, they were back to being hunted through the field, dodging rocks, colliding with small debris, and taking a few hard hits from enemy plasma cannons. “Hold on!” Rion eyed a short section of large metal tubing and barrel-rolled Ace into the tunnel. The Seraph followed. As soon as Ace cleared the debris, she pulled up into a steep climb and then looped back over the tunnel to come down behind the Covenant fighter.
Ram let out a whoop and blasted the Seraph with their cannons.
“Cap!” Niko called over his shoulder as the fighter’s shields absorbed the blast. “I’m getting some odd chatter. There’s a lot of interference. . . . It’s—wait, we’re getting a hail.”
“Put it on,” she said, banking Ace hard right and sticking like glue to the Seraph’s tail, knowing the other one was still out there somewhere.
“I think it’s . . . laughter?” Niko said with a deep frown. “If you can call it that.”
Over the chaos, Rion heard it too, and her blood ran cold. She didn’t have to see his disfigured face to know who it was. The hateful, forced chuckle was a rare and strange sound coming from a Sangheili, especially a zealot like Gek, who despised human emotions and mannerisms. But then, he was sending a message, one he wanted to make sure she’d understand. “Where is he?” she demanded. “Lessa, get me a location!”
Gek ‘Lhar wouldn’t be in one of the Seraphs; she knew that much. But he was here somewhere.
As Ace burst out of the field and came around to dive back in, Rion saw the war freighter parked on a massive chunk of debris, illuminated by the yellow glow of the Harvester’s plasma drill as it bored into the rock a few meters away.
Seeing red, she dove Ace back into the maze.
“Wait!” Niko yelled, his face turning pale as he listened intently. “I’m picking up—”
“My board is lighting up!” Lessa spun around with wide eyes. “It’s . . . a fleet.”
No wonder Gek was taunting her.
As they came around, they saw a Covenant battle group hovering just beyond the debris portion that Gek ‘Lhar commanded.
Suddenly the other Seraph blasted overhead, joining up with the other as they flew toward the fleet.
Why the hell hadn’t it fired?
Rion eased off Ace’s thrusters. “Niko, talk to me.”
“I don’t know. . . .” he said, listening. “It’s translating, but the chatter is too fast. . . .”
“They’re forming up,” Lessa said. “The entire group is going hot.”
“Oh . . . shit.” Niko’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
Rion opened navs and comms and blinked. Surely that wasn’t right—
“We got company!” Ram shouted as an enormous slipspace portal opened up at the edge of the debris field. “Multiple—holy shit. They’re ours.”
The Covenant battle group wasn’t mobilizing to take out the Ace of Spades. They were preparing for a much larger engagement.
“Jesus,” Niko whispered at the sight of the massive slipspace rupture widening just outside of the debris field and the huge UNSC battle carrier that slid through.
Goose bumps spread like wildfire up Rion’s arms. Immediately, several portals manifested in the same sector, delivering another UNSC cruiser and three more frigates.
Ace was about to be caught in the middle of a major confrontation.
“They’re entering hot right from slipspace,” Less said, swallowing. “Oh God. Nukes away!”
Rion took immediate action, guiding Ace through the debris.
“They’re nuking the field,” Less said in disbelief. “The UNSC is nuking the debris field.”
“They’re retreating,” Ram said. The Covenant battle group scattered, escape portals opening up all around the field.
“Niko, hail Gek and put it on screen,” Rion ordered, pushing Ace to the limit to create as much distance between them and the nukes as she could.
He spun around. “Are you crazy?”
“Just do it.”
“Twelve more nukes away!” Less yelled.
“Channel’s open,” Niko said.
The viewscreen went white with fuzz, then revealed chaos on the bridge of Gek’s war freighter as his crew scrambled to take
off before the UNSC nukes hit. A Sangheili peered at them in confusion, and Rion realized they must’ve opened the hail automatically. She saw Gek ‘Lhar in the background shouting orders. He turned and saw her face, and his command was cut off midsentence.
Rion took his measure with all the hatred and menace she could muster, which wasn’t very difficult. It flowed through her on a merciless wave. Her lips twisted into a satisfied smile. “Get ready to burn in hell, you hinge-head bastard.”
And then she returned the favor and laughed.
The Sangheili’s rage built, contorting his gray features, that one beady eye seeming to glow with fury. As he opened his mouth to reply, Rion closed the channel.
Then she punched Ace’s afterburners and they soared toward open space.
Niko had pulled up feeds of the battle as they retreated, and they watched with rapt attention as the massive UNSC fleet loosed a barrage of fire, protecting its nukes as they streamed from the ships, heading for all parts of the field.
Rion had known ONI would do one of two things with the coordinates they’d stolen from her: either commandeer the field and mine its contents, or utterly destroy it so no one else could have its ancient riches.
She guessed there weren’t enough resources to monitor, protect, and explore such a large area. Next best option was to take it completely out of play, blow it to bits and disrupt the field’s gravity around the dwarf star. Whatever wasn’t destroyed would likely be pulled into the star. The Covenant wouldn’t get their hands on anything useful now.
The last of Gek’s vessels retreated into portals, disappearing into slipspace as the nukes found their targets.
“Concussions closing in fast!” Ram shouted.
Time stood still. They were almost at the edge of the field. Opening a slipspace portal now and potentially taking the concussion with them would be very, very bad. They had no choice but to ride it out, which would also be—
Behind her, Rion heard the armiger say, “Oh my.”
And then the FTL began to spin before she gave the command. Rion threw a harsh glare at the armiger, just as a portal opened in front of them.
“Snail,” it said with a smirk in its tone, before staring off into nothing as it took command of her ship.
“Goddamn it!” Rion yelled as space opened up in a flash of blue light and they streaked inside the rupture, taking with them a trace of nuclear concussion.
“I suggest you strap in,” the armiger said calmly as Ace was rocked from behind and sent into a dizzying spin.
“Hold her steady!” Rion shouted, helpless to helm her own damn ship.
Ace spun dangerously close to the outer edge of the portal and imminent destruction. But somehow the armiger countered every spin and bobble with lightning speed and precision, the hull shuddering and creaking with the forces thrown at it.
Rion’s fingers dug deep into the armrests of her chair. Bile stung her throat, and her gut rolled over and over in nauseating waves. Her vision went black and while she tried valiantly, she couldn’t hold on to awareness.
When next she came to, Ace was gliding through the slipstream portal with ease. The crew was waking too, woozy and pale, faring no better than she was.
“Captain,” the armiger said in the ensuing tranquility. “I would like to make a proposal.”
She lifted her head enough to give it a withering look, still trying to catch her breath. “Wherever you pointed us this time, it’s the last. When we get wherever the hell we’re going, you are off my goddamn ship. You hear me?”
The lingering vertigo was starting to get the best of her. She squeezed her eyelids closed, hearing the armiger retreat, the echo of its footsteps growing dimmer until there was finally nothing.
Ram groaned. “Anyone else feel like they just lost ten years off their life?”
“That’s the last time I go into slipspace on an empty stomach,” Less said.
Niko looked up, his face a pale shade of green. “I think I might’ve barfed a little on the comms panel.”
Rion let her head fall back against her chair and closed her eyes, wondering how in the hell they got into this mess in the first place.
After Rion splashed some much-needed cold water on her face and sat a spell in her quarters to let the unsteadiness ebb from her body, she headed for the lounge for a drink and crackers to fill her sour stomach.
The armiger was already there, facing the viewscreen, hands tucked behind its back in a disconcertingly human gesture. The alloy head turned slowly at her entry and it studied her with those ominous blue eyes, all the humanity suddenly gone, replaced by something disturbing and alien.
Ram was at the counter in a change of clothes, hair still wet from his shower, stirring something in a pot, while Lessa sat curled in her favorite chair nursing a mug of hot tea and seeming lost in thought, as she often was lately.
Niko came in as Rion headed for the counter, ignoring the armiger, to see what Ram was cooking. “You do know we have a food synthesizer and an entire cargo container of packaged meals, right?”
He ignored her quip. “Sometimes the moment just calls for a home-cooked meal. He’s been waiting for everyone to get here,” he said, with a nod toward the armiger. “You want some soup?”
“Not yet.” She reached into the cabinet above him. “Crackers are about all I can handle right now.”
He filled bowls for himself and the siblings, and then they adjourned to the table. It felt odd, having the armiger there while they were eating, alone and off to the side. Lurking.
Again it had taken control.
Again it had shown her how deeply they were at its mercy.
And again there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
Rion shoved a cracker into her mouth and chewed as she glared at the creature’s back. She hadn’t forgotten its words on the bridge. And finally, feeling a tad confrontational, she said, “All right . . . let’s hear what you have to say.”
The armiger unclasped its metal hands, then hesitated so long that Rion was just about to tell it to get on with it or she was going back to her quarters, when it shifted and limped over to the head of the table.
Without it making a move, the holopad in the center of the table came to life, generating a beautiful green and blue planet—Earth. Though, clearly from a time long before overpopulation and pollution.
Ram’s look was unreadable, but Lessa’s face showed flat-out adoration.
“Well, I’m guessing that’s Earth,” Niko said, before slurping his soup. “But it sure doesn’t look like that anymore.”
“It did. Once,” the armiger replied. “This is how it appeared one hundred thousand years ago.” It seemed to stare at it for a moment. “I am aware of your agenda, Captain Forge. You brought me on board your ship with the intention to ransom me to the Office of Naval Intelligence in exchange for your confiscated items. Of course, this simply cannot occur. And I hope to change your mind. It appears we are both at odds with ONI, are we not?”
Rion didn’t answer.
“You do not trust me,” it continued. “I do not trust you. But fate has thrown us together; therefore, we must work together. I have no desire to commandeer your ship.”
“And yet you have, twice now.”
“To keep us free and safe, yes. Would you rather I allowed your capture on Geranos-a or your death in the debris field?”
It might have had a point, but still . . .
“You want your personal items and the fragmented ancilla in order to follow the path your father’s ship took after destroying Etran Harborage. I will help you retrieve these items.”
“In exchange for what?”
“The Office of Naval Intelligence has something of mine as well.”
“You want us to help you steal from ONI.”
“It would seem you have done so already.”
Niko chuckled. “Well, that’s true. We stole him from right under their noses.”
“Whose side are you on?” Lessa a
sked.
“There are no sides,” the armiger said. “We have a common enemy. The difference between us is that I have the tools to protect myself and you simply do not. Once we reach our destination, you will.”
“And where’s that?” Rion wanted to know. “Another Forerunner ruin?”
It dipped its head. “In order to evade ONI, you will need a better ship.”
Rion laughed in surprise, nearly choking on her cracker. “I’m not ditching my ship.”
“You will not have to. The Forerunners were master shipbuilders, among other things. They were explorers as well, spreading across a galaxy of three million occupied worlds. It was not uncommon for them to find themselves in contact with other species and races with rudimentary ships such as yours. They utilized design seeds to build their own ships from local resources if necessary. But there were many occasions when resources could not support a design, so the Forerunners used whatever local vessels they could obtain and created an upgrade seed—hard-light instructions, blueprints, if you will, which bonded to an existing structure, reinforcing the materials, molding them as needed, and upgrading components and systems.”
“So you’re saying we keep Ace, and get all the Forerunner bells and whistles?” Niko asked, obviously on board.
The armiger seemed confused by the phrase, but quickly recovered. “Not all, but many, yes. We will need a crystal flake as well. Every Forerunner vessel in the ecumene had one at the core of its engines. This focus amplifier allowed them to travel throughout the galaxy with little delay and extreme accuracy.”
“And you can retrofit this flake with an FTL drive?” Ram asked, intrigued.
“Of course. The engine itself must be modified first. For this engine and size of vessel, we will need only the smallest of flakes—”
“No,” Rion said, shaking her head. “We can evade ONI just fine on our own. Get your own damn ship. You don’t need this one.”
The armiger thought about that for a long moment. “No,” it admitted. “But I need an inconspicuous ship, and I have need of humans to do the things I cannot. Therefore, you help me, I help you.”
“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’d like our stuff back,” Niko said. “Think about the future, our work. We can’t do any of that now, unless we can stand up to ONI, or at least run when we need to run and hide when we need to hide. We get caught by ONI again and that’s it. We’re shipped right off to some black site prison, never to be seen again.”
