Envoy

by Tobias S. Buckell

  “Got it, sir,” the pilot said.

  As the Pelican’s engines raised in pitch, everyone grabbed hold of something.

  Darkness slowly ate the edges of Ellis’s vision. Sharquoi advanced along the bridge, breaking free of her control and looming over her. She looked up through the shaft from another Sharquoi’s eyes a final time and saw the Pelican climbing overhead, the air underneath it rippling hot from the howling engine exhaust.

  Peering down the tunnel to the pinpoint in the center of her fading vision, Ellis stumbled over to the Havok.

  Two minutes left.

  But those three Sharquoi coming for her weren’t going to wait. The winds inside this thing, this—the name popped into her mind: vertex—weren’t going to let her destroy it. They would protect it no matter the cost.

  Ellis flipped the controls over to manual. Turned the keys, pushed her palm out over the remote ignition she’d welded onto the frame.

  Blindness finally took her. The vertex fighting back.

  How far away were the Sharquoi? How much longer could she delay this?

  She’d given the others every last second she could. It was time to secure Suraka’s future.

  Ellis took a breath and thought about Jeff. His voice and his smile.

  She wondered if she would ever see him again.

  Then she pressed the button.

  The Pelican burst out of the Forerunner structure nose high and engines screaming. Gray Team clutched the bay’s jumpseats, and Rojka slammed into the back of the vehicle with Melody piling on top of him.

  Jai looked ahead through the pilot’s viewport. Only sky filled the view.

  As the aircraft righted itself, dipping forward to vector away from the crater, it banked hard, revealing the entire pit below through a starboard window. The ground shuddered and trembled. With a single jolt, the earth fell down into darkness. It looked as though something was sucking the entire crater down in on itself, as if the planet were taking a deep breath of dirt.

  Then the earth lifted up, rock, dirt, and debris blown outward by an enormous fireball that liquefied and burned through everything, vaporizing the entire pit in a matter of seconds. The shock wave from the explosion raced below the Pelican and struck Suraka.

  The dropship shivered as a wall of dirt struck its belly. The force of the blast had risen higher than the pilot estimated. Alarms wailed and the aircraft began to spin as the engines guttered out.

  “Crash positions!” the pilot shouted.

  Ahead of them, the shock wave struck the outskirts of Suraka. At the edge of the destruction, buildings swayed and collapsed. All the windows in the buildings that still stood disappeared in a spray of glass. Debris rained toward the ground.

  After everything it had suffered, the city would endure still more destruction.

  The Pelican spun around dizzyingly as the pilot fought to control the dead weight of the craft as it careened toward tall, impossible-to-navigate buildings. Flaring hard, the pilot brought the dropship down low and attempted to stabilize it before impact.

  They struck the street and slid for half a block. The Pelican finally came to rest at the bottom of a bank, the floors gaping open to reveal the inner workings behind what had once been silvered windows.

  “Gray Team?” Jai called.

  “Mike here.”

  “Adriana here.” She sat up and rested her elbows on her knees.

  “Rojka?”

  The Sangheili could only groan in reply.

  “Melody?” Jai asked.

  “Yeah, I’m alive,” she said.

  The pilot dropped the ramp and Jai stepped out. A black cloud rose above the buildings. All that remained of the excavated crater now was an immense canyon cut deep into the planet’s crust. It roiled with a thick blanket of dust—all that was left of what had once been one of the Forerunners’ darkest secrets.

  CHAPTER 28

  * * *

  * * *

  Rojka watched the desert tilt and whirl from the back of a Pelican as they approached Rak with the rear bay ramp opened. The spires and great domes of the Sangheili keeps appeared in view as the aircraft banked once more for its descent.

  Home, Rojka thought.

  He never thought he’d see Rak again. Especially at the very end. The sight now felt like a dream, as if a mirage had appeared in the desert.

  The Pelican’s engines whined as it touched down on a sparse field just outside the city. Rak itself sprawled out along the valley, rock outcroppings jutting up into the air between the keeps. The river Astlehich burbled down through the center of the entire city, surrounded by carefully maintained gardens that wound alongside it. A bright green paradise hidden in the middle of a vast wasteland.

  Rojka thought back to contemplative walks he’d taken along the many decorative paths and bridges that crossed the Astlehich. He silently hoped he would be able to do so once more.

  “Do we need to worry about that?” the pilot asked Rojka, the dropship’s comm system translating into the Sangeili’s own language.

  Thirty Sangheili in full combat harnesses spread out around the edge of the field, weapons in their hands.

  “I do not know,” Rojka admitted. He looked down at his own harness, battered beyond repair, and his empty hands. He was still exhausted, nursing broken ribs and strained muscles in his legs. It had been two full days since the event at Suraka. The humans had put his arm in some sort of sling, but he refused to use it for this return home. If these Sangheili were coming for him now, there would be little he could do to fight them. “Thank you for the transportation, pilot. You should leave as soon as I step clear.”

  “That’s the plan, yes, sir.”

  Rojka wearily got to his feet, limped down the ramp, and stepped out onto the field.

  As promised, the moment he was clear, the Pelican lifted off and arced away over the rock outcroppings. Rojka looked at the blurred forms of the approaching Sangheili through the dust. Had they pledged loyalty to Thars? Did they want to take control of the keep for themselves?

  Even with painkillers, set bones, and human medical care, Rojka fought to stand strong in the middle of the field.

  “Kaidon Rojka!” the Sangheili in the lead shouted.

  Rojka squinted. To die here would be good, Rojka decided. His death would not go unnoticed.

  He then recognized who addressed him. “Kaidon Akato ‘Dakaj.”

  Akato’s warriors surrounded Rojka at a careful distance, their weapons in hand.

  “So, you have returned. What are your intentions in these keeps of Rak?” Akato asked.

  “My intentions . . .” Rojka had spent the entire flight across the desert mulling that over. He looked past Akato. “I wanted to see the city again. My city.”

  “Your city?”

  “A poor choice of words,” Rojka admitted. “I claim no ownership or leadership. But I put everything I had into building this place. I risked it all to come to this world. But during this war, I came to realize that I might never see Rak or my own keep again. I wanted to see both at least one last time.”

  Akato’s hands moved away from his sides. “We have lost our fleet, Fleetmaster. We suffered at the hands of the Jiralhanae. The Sharquoi almost entered the city. You do not have many friends here, Kaidon.”

  Kaidon. Rojka felt a sliver of hope uncoil in his chest at hearing the word. “Many of the Sangheili in Rak chose Thars. Thars is now dead. I have taken my vengeance. He wasted our fleet in pursuit of his own plans. He invited the Jiralhanae to this world, and he rightly bore the punishment for this. I do not seek the support of Sangheili who have turned their backs to me. But I am not interested in vengeance any longer.”

  “Even against the Demon Three. I am told they still live.”

  “I fought with them,” Rojka said. His shoulders hunched, then rose again as an invisible weight slid from them. “We spilled enemy blood together. We stood side by side to save this planet. I will not take their blood. Enough have died for the caus
e of war. I see no vengeance satisfied here. The war is over . . . and now I just wish to see my home.”

  Rojka stood before Akato, waiting to see what might happen next. Akato had been a lesser kaidon, relatively new to Rakoi. Rojka did not know him well. A profound change in the leadership of the keeps had certainly occurred here in Rojka’s absence. Akato must have taken an opportunity to rise to power, because none of the kaidons who had lent Thars their fighters were here to meet Rojka.

  That meant they were all dead.

  That also meant that Akato was now trying to decide if Rojka was an immediate threat to his new leadership.

  “The Jiralhanae began their attack,” Akato said softly. “And without either your fleet or Thars’s, we were vulnerable. You fought to your end to try and stop this. But it should never have happened in the first place.”

  Rojka inclined his head but said nothing.

  “Even though the attack ceased with their deaths, which we now know was thanks to the intervention of the human governor, we are still vulnerable. My most trusted advisors agree with me that without our fleet, this is the truth, Rojka. There is nothing above us. Not a single ship. What are we without a fleet, kaidon?”

  “I do not know,” Rojka admitted.

  “So we must face a new future, as a result. One that acknowledges that all creatures living on this planet are vulnerable. You have clearly established an alliance with the humans. We need a speaker to them.”

  “And you believe I can be this?” Rojka asked. In some ways, to some Sangheili, this would be a lesser role. It was clear that Akato was asserting his authority.

  “Do you not think so?” It would be a difficult position. But Rojka could still lead through influence, if not brute strength. Just like a human. He could influence both species that lived here, he realized. He could, like Melody Azikiwe, speak things into being.

  “I agree that we do need the humans now,” Rojka said. “We are both rebuilding. We would be stronger together. The humans’ Earth government will have their own fleet in orbit soon, and their attention. Sanghelios will no doubt be looking far more critically at us as well. I want Rak to survive. That is all I wish. I pledge that I will pose no threat to your leadership, Akato. I will speak to the humans for you.”

  It felt so alien to say such things. He was turning his back on many years of yearning and aspiration for leadership through combat and other means.

  Both the Sangheili and the humans had lost so much to war. But there was the rebuilding to oversee if either of them were to survive here. There was a peace to be secured with the humans. A future to work toward.

  A future that, Rojka had learned after all he had been through, he wanted to see made.

  “I will be your envoy,” Rojka said.

  Akato nodded to the group of Sangheili. They opened the circle up and fell in behind as Akato swept an arm out toward the keeps lining the valley. Rak. “Welcome home then, Rojka. We have much to discuss. The future of this city, and of this world.”

  “Thank you, Kaidon.” Rojka fell into step beside him, walking back toward his home, and a very new and different future.

  Yet one he now welcomed.

  The heavily armored, gun-like shape of the UNSC frigate Welcome to the Snipehunt popped out of slipspace just above Carrow.

  When Jai saw it approach from the cockpit of the Pelican, he turned to Adriana and Mike. “Are we ready for this?” he asked privately over the team’s helmets.

  Melody, up in the cockpit, glanced back and gave them a thumbs-up.

  Jai nodded to her.

  “Time to face the music,” Adriana said. “The war is over. The Covenant is gone. Maybe we’ll be discharged. To be honest, I never thought about what the end of our fight would look like.”

  “Do you really think ONI has changed?” Mike asked. “Or that the fight is over? They used us before the Covenant showed up. You know they’ll keep doing it afterward too.”

  There was a long silence in the Pelican as the dropship moved to meet the frigate’s open hangar bay.

  Mike looked over at them. “We’re Spartans,” he said. “I don’t know anything else. I have nothing else.”

  “So we stay together and see what’s coming?” Jai asked.

  “There are still threats out here,” Mike said. “We saw what happened to the Surakans. The Brutes and the Elites. I don’t think fighting is over.”

  “What about Glyke? There’s a possibilty they’ll try us as war criminals to save face for what happened to that world,” Jai said. “You know that, right? You’re prepared for that?”

  “I’m ready for anything.”

  Welcome to the Snipehunt swallowed the Pelican, which settled into the hangar bay. It had been six years since Jai had been inside a UNSC ship. Six years.

  Jai paused as the ramp opened enough for him to see what was waiting for them.

  “What is this?” he asked out loud.

  Dozens of crewmembers lined the hangar bay in full dress uniforms, positioned perfectly by their rank. One of them called out a command to salute, and they responded in unison.

  Melody stepped into the middle of Gray Team. “They’re here to see you,” she explained. “Not many Spartans of your generation survived the war.”

  “This is strange,” Jai said.

  “They’re here to honor you. Take it in, Spartan. Look around. Know that your enemies have died and that you lived,” Melody said.

  Those words, Jai thought, are very Sangheili. She’d spent a lot of time with the aliens; he wondered how much had rubbed off.

  “Earth survived,” Melody said. “And now Carrow survives. We’re still alive to build a future, because of the sacrifices you all have made. Do you still believe in futures, Jai?”

  Jai looked at the crowds waiting expectantly. “I didn’t think there was one when we were floating around Glyke, before we went under. Didn’t think there was one when you unfroze us.”

  “And now?” Melody raised an eyebrow.

  “A lot changed down on Carrow,” Jai said.

  “Well then,” Melody said, “try believing in one.”

  She walked past him and stepped down off the ramp. Jai followed her, with Adriana and Mike flanking him. The landing bay filled with deafening applause that reverberated off the walls.

  “Jai’s right. This is strange,” Adriana muttered.

  “You’ve come back heroes,” Melody told her.

  “We’re not heroes,” Adriana said to her. “We just followed orders as best we could in a horrible situation.”

  “They see heroes. Now come.” Melody led them through the assembled crew and to the officers waiting to receive them.

  The officers saluted the Spartans as Melody introduced them.

  “I’m so sorry, we have to cut this short,” Melody said to them. “I’m told we have a meeting in one of the briefing rooms?”

  “Of course,” a visibly disappointed lieutenant said. “Chief Petty Officer Dunkirk here will lead your way.”

  CPO Dunkirk looked less starstruck than the lieutenant. He silently led them through the ship’s corridors. Jai found the familiar angled doorways and long hallways reassuring. He’d come home, in some way. CPO Dunkirk stopped outside a briefing room near the bridge.

  “Thank you,” Melody told him in a tone that clearly relieved him of any further need to hang around. She looked at the battered Spartans. “Ready?”

  In answer, Jai opened the door and stepped in.

  An ONI officer waited there. He looked briefly annoyed when he saw Melody. The look disappeared under a familiar mask of calm. “I’m Commander Yarick. I’m here to help Gray Team reintegrate. Most of the commanding officers Gray Team dealt with are no longer operational. I’ll be taking over where they left off.”

  “Before we talk about reintegration—” Melody started to say.

  “Ms. Azikiwe,” Yarick interrupted. “You’ve already detailed your concerns. Our current admiral has experience with the SPARTAN-II program
and its pressures. She is quite familiar with the situation and what is needed moving forward. We have the best people at our disposal to work with Gray Team. The first step for them will be some basic functionality analyses and some shore leave back on Earth.”

  That seemed to mollify Melody slightly, but she didn’t back down. “This team has given a lot out there. You understand that, right?”

  Yarick’s lips thinned. “Ms. Azikiwe, you work for the Diplomatic Corps. While your services to the Office of Naval Intelligence are highly regarded and valued, they are also no longer required. Now, I need you to leave the room while I continue to debrief Gray Team. I understand you need to be making arrangements with Governor Lamar Edwards for a continuing mission here on Carrow?”

  Jai watched Melody realize she had been dismissed just as matter-of-factly as she had dismissed Officer Dunkirk.

  But Melody wasn’t about to back down, so Jai decided to defuse the situation before it escalated. “It’s okay, Envoy. We’ll be all right. There’s still a lot that needs to be worked out with Suraka. Thank you for looking out for us. We’ll talk to you, after this is all sorted out.”

  Reluctantly, Melody turned around and left the room.

  “Sir. What about what happened on Glyke?” Jai asked after she left. The question had been waiting over their heads like a dark cloud.

  Yarick folded his arms. “You have a choice in front of you, Spartans.”

  “Go on.”

  “Some are recommending decommissioning Gray Team. A general discharge or hardship discharge. A reintegration team would be assigned to you, but there would be some . . . conditions attached to it.” Yarick looked at them, curious as to their reaction.

  Jai looked over at Adriana and Mike. “I didn’t think ONI let Spartans become civilians,” he said.

  “I didn’t say that we did,” Yarick responded. “There are other ways we can employ your skills that don’t involve public exposure. Only a handful of people know about what happened on Glyke. Some of them are Sangheili allies that we’d like to keep in our graces. This would be a public-facing decommission only. The bottom line about Glyke is that although it was tragic, it was not novel. Planetary genocide was effectively done to humanity repeatedly over the course of the war. The Sangheili know this and we know it—which is why we’re putting the decision in your hands.”