The Cole Protocol

by Tobias S. Buckell

  “I’ll go with you,” Delgado said. Running with the leader of the Helljumpers had to be a safe bet.

  They ran through corridors, Faison leading, turning the corners with his battle rifle up at chin level. Delgado followed, handgun out.

  He was struggling to keep up with the marine, though. His legs hurt, his lungs hurt. Everything was one big ache.

  Faison turned a corner well ahead of Delgado and plasma fire burst out. Faison dropped to the ground with a grunt, firing as he fell. The smell of burnt flesh filled Delgado’s nostrils.

  Delgado rounded the corner firing his pistol low, shifting his aim to hit a Kig-Yar running down the corridor in the feet. It howled, energy shield falling to the ground, and Faison shot it in the head.

  “Damn it!” Faison shouted. He sounded angry, not hurt. Despite that, the floor was slick with his blood. The shot had been close to an artery, Delgado guessed. Even without the charring, Faison was in bad shape. “This corridor was supposed to be cleared.”

  “He could have been hiding until now.” Delgado crouched in front of the marine. Faison’s right thigh had been hit. As he cursed the Jackal, Faison used a knife to cut off long strips of cloth from his left pant leg.

  Delgado helped him make a makeshift tourniquet, tying it off around Faison’s upper thigh to reduce the bleeding. It was a blood-soaked rag by the time they finished.

  Delgado wiped his hands on his trousers. “You need a medic.”

  Faison leaned his helmeted head against the wall and groaned. “I know,” he grunted. “But if we call someone down we’re putting them in risk.”

  Delgado sat down against the opposite wall. “What are you doing?” Faison asked.

  “Waiting for help with you,” Delgado said.

  Faison shoved the battle rifle across the floor. “No, you keep moving. You’ll have a better chance of getting out of here if you head for the docks. Keep your eyes open.”

  “There is no way I’m leaving you behind,” Delgado said.

  “Leave me your pistol,” the marine said. “Take my rifle. I’ve been shot in the thigh and I’ve already lost too much blood. I’m not walking out of here, pilot. It’s just not going to happen.”

  “You have men to lead. We can get them to come back via the docks for you,” Delgado said.

  “I’m not spending lives to save my own,” Faison said. He shifted his position and winced, and then he yanked his helmet off, throwing it down beside him. “I turned the corridor too fast, I let my guard down, and I paid the price.”

  “And if I wasn’t in such rough shape, I would have been right there beside you,” Delgado said.

  “Battle is random like that, sometimes.” Faison gestured for Delgado’s pistol, and Delgado tossed him Señora Sies. The marine examined it. “Fancy piece.”

  “It has a long history,” Delgado said.

  “I’ll bet so,” Faison muttered. “I’m sorry to have to ask for it, but you’ll be better off with the rifle. Now go, quickly.”

  Delgado stood up, and grabbed Faison’s wrist in an extended handshake. “You’re a good man, Faison. For UNSC.”

  Faison laughed. “I bet it hurts to say that.”

  Delgado smiled. “Not really, soldier. Not really.”

  “Go,” Faison hissed. “Please.”

  Delgado turned the corner with the battle rifle up and at the ready, his footsteps echoing softly off the walls as he left the ODST marine behind him in a pool of blood.

  Once he was down the corridor he ignored Faison’s commands and radioed Jai. “Faison is down. If you can get back to this location at any point, he really needs a medic. He’ll need backup—we were ambushed.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-SEVEN

  INFINITE SPOILS, OFF HABITAT TIAGO,

  THE RUBBLE, 23 LIBRAE

  Keyes watched as Juliana appeared over the alien console, her form wavering and sparking.

  “It’s getting bad out here,” he told her. “We have Jackals on the docks in solid numbers still holding out, and reinforcements at the door on the other side. We abandoned the Mighty Sparrow. Please tell me all this was worth it.”

  Juliana ignored him as her eyes flashed incandescent white and she dropped to her knees. “Strong security,” she whispered. Then she opened her eyes wide. “But it was worth it. We’re in real danger. All of us. Yank me, Lieutenant, and get me back into the Rubble. I have the data I need, and we need to act fast. The Kig-Yar are coming for us. The Rubble will need to make a stand. Get me out of here, Keyes. Now!”

  Keyes pulled the chip and pocketed it.

  “To the docks?” he asked Jai.

  The Spartan’s gold visor turned to him. “I need to make a detour. Your man Faison’s hurt. Delgado asked if we could help.”

  Keyes nodded. “Get to him.”

  Jai thudded out of the room, and Keyes turned to the ODSTs inside the cockpit. “Let’s get out of here.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-EIGHT

  INFINITE SPOILS, OFF HABITAT TIAGO, THE RUBBLE, 23 LIBRAE

  Thel stepped aboard the Infinite Spoils with a snarl. The human ship had clogged up their attempt to board, and they’d had to shuttle over on boarding ships, burning their way aboard the docked human freighter.

  It left him in a testy mood. And with Unggoy milling about bumping into each other, Thel’s mood had darkened further.

  He leaned over to Zhar. “Have any of them figured out how to move this human ship away?”

  “No,” Zhar replied, looking over the Unggoy standing around the cockpit, pushing buttons and chattering to each other.

  Thel sighed. “Leave five Unggoy here to cut the ship loose with plasma torches once we get through the airlock.”

  He stalked back to the airlock and made his way through after several Unggoy. They fanned out ahead of him into the corridors, their ungainly steps making far too much noise.

  The Kig-Yar ship felt empty. No Kig-Yar had even tried to hold the airlock. Had the humans killed them all?

  And if so, where were the humans?

  Zhar followed him through. After the airlock closed, the sound of welding and cutting came through from the other side. A moment later a loud creaking sound filled the corridor, then silence.

  “The human ship is cut loose. The Unggoy Deacon and Saal say they’re towing it free and casting it off,” Zhar said. “So far, no human ships have come to sniff around.”

  “Good.” Thel looked around. “Unggoy toward the bridge. Zhar and I will secure the other airlock from the docks and eliminate any Kig-Yar there.”

  The Unggoy dutifully headed up the corridor.

  Zhar patted the plasma rifle in his hands. “Let’s go, then.”

  Thel’s old friend took the lead, turning corners as Thel quickly followed behind, keeping him covered as they thudded down the inside of the ship through bulkhead after bulkhead.

  Zhar turned a corner and flinched as human gunfire slapped into his armor. The old Sangheili fired downward, and the shots stopped.

  The now dead human, its back against the wall, had been already wounded. A large shot to its thigh had bled the creature’s strange red blood out onto the floor. Zhar had shot it once: clean through the head.

  “It was sitting down,” Zhar said. “Startled me. I barely got a return shot in.”

  “You are lucky it didn’t have a more powerful weapon.” Thel kicked away the handgun lying by its side.

  “Indeed.” Zhar actually sounded somewhat shaken. He squatted in front of the dead human. “I wonder why they left one of their own behind like this? Was it a trap?”

  “Who knows how they think?” Thel said. “Who cares? They are heretics. They do not deserve names or life.”

  Zhar wouldn’t stop worrying at some idea deep in his head. “I don’t know, Thel. You’re a true zealot, I know, and I would never doubt the word of the Prophets, but we’ve fought the humans for years and they show some capacity for honor. Look, they left behind one of their own, who was bl
eeding and dishonored, to spring a trap and die with honor. Don’t you think that indicates something profoundly noble about them?”

  Thel looked down at the dead alien and thought about it. “You think too much, Zhar.”

  As he said that, Thel saw something move quickly out of the corner of his eyes. Zhar snapped out his plasma rifle and fired, just as the large, gray-armor-clad human fired back with a rifle of its own.

  Thel pulled out his energy sword as the armored human smacked into him, carrying them both rolling down the corridor until they struck a bulkhead hard enough to make Thel’s vision blur and knock his sword loose.

  “I cannot get a good aim,” Zhar shouted, as Thel struggled to get a grip on the powerful human’s rifle.

  The loud human gun fired into the floor several times as they fought over it, and then Thel got the barrel in both his hands.

  He stared at his reflection in the alien’s visor and roared as he bent the weapon, straining to make it useless. The gold visor stared implacably back at Thel. There were no sounds, though the alien was straining just as hard.

  What creature did not choose to show its face that wasn’t a soulless and dead one? Thel roared again. “Demon! Heretic. Unholy alien!” He headbutted the gold visor, snapping the human’s neck back with each whiplike blow.

  The human threw him back and yanked a primitive knife from the chest of its armor.

  The two warriors stood, staring at each other for a split second. Thel suddenly realized that they would both die, fighting to the very end, equally matched.

  Equally matched with a human. Thel spat purple blood from his mouth. This was a surprise.

  The human looked over at the other dead marine, shook its head, and then took off down the corridor.

  “We follow it,” Thel gasped, out of breath. He’d broken a rib with that impact.

  “What was that?” Zhar asked, cautiously pointing his plasma rifle around the corner.

  “I do not know,” Thel said. “It was strong, though.” He joined Zhar, turning around the corner.

  “Looks like it was headed to the docks. Let’s go.”

  Zhar had a small limp, and it hurt for Thel to run, but neither of them would allow these to slow them. Both Sangheili ran all out, grunting occasionally, to the airlock dock.

  They got there just in time to see the gray-armored human disappear past the lip, running out into the large cavernous docking area where human tracers and Covenant plasma filled the air.

  Kig-Yar corpses lay around the airlock.

  Zhar took one side, Thel the other, forgetting about the strange new human for now. “It looks like the Kig-Yar were protecting the ship,” Zhar said. “But were surprised by the attack from inside.”

  “The humans are moving out onto the docks, back into their habitats,” Thel noted. “They have done us a favor. They cleared the ship.”

  He shut the airlock door with a laugh and walked over to Zhar and clapped him on the shoulder. “Guard this door, old friend. I will head to the bridge and get us moving. We will pick up Saal, and then we will see what our options are.”

  Zhar nodded.

  “But you should also check to see what it was the humans were doing aboard when we get clear,” Zhar said. “We do not need anymore surprises.”

  Thel thought about the pain in his ribs, and what had felt like a close brush with death, and nodded.

  What had that human been?

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-NINE

  HABITAT TIAGO DOCKS, THE RUBBLE, 23 LIBRAE

  The sound of the ship’s airlock doors shutting echoed throughout the spare cavern that the Kig-Yar had as a docking bay. The lanky aliens paused, looking over at the doors. Two of them ran for the lock, banging on the door, as loud clanks and hisses told everyone in the docking bay that their ship was undocking.

  Delgado watched the panic spread through the Kig-Yar as they realized what had happened. The Kig-Yar had kept bunched up on the far side of the docks, close to their ship’s airlock. That had made getting out onto the docks a dangerous exercise, but the Kig-Yar had realized that letting the humans get off their ship was better than trapping them in it. Now they were no doubt wondering who the heck was taking their ship.

  Keyes, hunkered down on the far side of a shipping container they were both using as cover, waved Delgado over. The immense bulk of the gray Spartan Jai stood behind the lieutenant.

  “I’m sorry to hear about Faison,” Delgado said. The word had spread as they’d remained pinned down by the Kig-Yar. The aliens, with their energy shields and snipers, were doing far better now in the large, open docking bay than in the tight confines of the ship.

  Keyes nodded. He looked tired, Delgado thought. These men were all his responsibility. The four dead in the open area of the docks were on Keyes. Now so was Faison.

  “Jai has an idea,” Keyes said.

  The Spartan stepped forward. “You had them all suit up, Keyes. Everyone’s vacuum ready. Only a few Jackals are equipped. If we figure out how to flush the air out of the entire dock . . .”

  “We’d need Juliana for that,” Delgado said. One couldn’t just flush the atmosphere out of a habitat without extensive overrides.

  Keyes pulled the large chip out of his pocket that held Juliana. “Jai will cover you; you just need to get somewhere to plug this in. Get Juliana back up and have her flush the bay. We’ll pick off the stragglers.”

  Delgado almost reverently placed the AI’s chip into his pocket. She’d been created to manage the mining operations of a Madrigal corporation, helping guide asteroids to processing plants around the system. She may have been commercial AI, nothing like the industrial strength thinkers the UNSC used, but she’d somehow managed to keep the entire Rubble together since the fall of Madrigal. Juliana had been a protector of the Rubble for so long she was almost like a technological deity, a god everyone in the Rubble looked to for help with their troubles.

  And she fit in his pocket.

  He scanned the docks. “Over there.” He pointed Jai at a console used by supervisors to run the docks. “That should be doable.” It was well away from the bulk of the firefight.

  “So go!” Keyes said.

  The rate of fire from the ODSTs picked up as Jai and Delgado made a run for it, ducking from one set of containers and large structural spars to another.

  They stopped a mere fifteen feet from the console.

  Delgado swallowed. From where he had been, the console looked out of the way. Up close, he realized it was in the open. Though far away from the Kig-Yar, they were good shots.

  Jai realized it too, because the Spartan turned and held out a gauntleted hand. “Give her to me, I’ll plug her in.”

  Delgado stared at the Spartan’s hand. He’d be just handing over one of the most important assets the Rubble had.

  How much did he trust these UNSC Spartans?

  So far they’d worked toward the same goals. If you didn’t start trusting someone at some point, he thought, then you’ll never trust again.

  This Spartan was offering to risk his life to get out in the open and try to save them all.

  How much proof did Delgado need?

  He took a deep breath and handed Juliana over.

  Jai cupped the chip in his hands and darted out. For a brief second it looked like the Kig-Yar hadn’t spotted them, that Jai would make it to the console and back before they noticed anything.

  But as the Spartan stood and inserted the chip, plasma fire struck the wall overhead.

  Delgado leaned out and wildly fired his battle rifle at the Kig-Yar.

  Several plasma shots grazed Jai, but he kept the chip guarded until Juliana’s form appeared over the console.

  “Get back!” Delgado shouted. “She’s in the system.”

  Near misses blackened the gray armor as Jai ran back to cover, firing his battle rifle as he did so. Three Kig-Yar fell over, dead. Delgado marveled at the Spartan’s accuracy. At this range, across hundreds of feet of dock
, all Delgado had done was harass the Kig-Yar.

  Jai slammed his back into the container as plasma slapped the other side, boiling metal.

  Delgado’s earpiece crackled, and Juliana’s voice filled his ear. “Thank you, Delgado, Jai. What do you need from me?”

  “Blow the air out of here,” Delgado requested.

  Juliana didn’t reply, but a second later all the airlocks feeding into the docks blew open with the bass warbling of emergency sirens and strobing warning lights. Air rushed out into the vacuum, thundering past, and the sound of plasma fire stopped.

  It was over in a few minutes. ODSTs popped up and shot the few remaining Kig-Yar that were in full gear and still able to breathe and fight.

  The other aliens died horribly, flailing around, asphyxiated, their long mouths open and frozen in silent screams.

  Keyes and the ODST Markov looked out over the carnage once the docks repressurized. Keyes looked a bit horrified at the carnage. Markov looked slightly pleased.

  Jai stood behind them, towering high, battle rifle in hand. “The Petya has caught up to us,” he told Keyes. “I would suggest you use it as a temporary command center. It’ll keep you from getting recaptured, at the least.”

  Keyes ran a hand over his silvering hair and nodded. “Thank you, Spartan. We’ll need it. Juliana reported that this is just the beginning, the Kig-Yar are up to something. Juliana might as well brief us aboard your ship.”

  Jai slung his battle rifle and plodded off toward one of the nearby airlocks. After a moment, Delgado followed, both glad to be out of the dock full of dead Kig-Yar.

  CHAPTER

  FIFTY

  SANGHEILI-OCCUPIED SHIP INFINITE SPOILS,

  THE RUBBLE, 23 LIBRAE

  Thel looked over the reports that Zhar had patiently gathered for him. The humans had dug around the Kig-Yar battle net, which had been poorly secured.