by Kelly Gay
Another ten minutes, and she headed back to Cade and the immobile Mgalekgolo. Cade was leaning against a console, rifle lying across his lap. His gaze lifted when he heard her approach. “Any luck?” he asked quietly.
“Nothing.”
He read her frustration easily. “You want to break silence.”
“I want that goddamn buoy.”
As she pulled Diane from her pack, Cade straightened and trained his rifle on the Hunter. Without preamble, Rion switched the device on, then lifted her arm, activated comms, and said just above a whisper: “Niko, Diane is up. You read?”
“Got her, boss.” His voice rang out loud and clear, making them both wince and train their attention on the Hunter, but it showed no reaction at all. “You’re good to go. And . . . hot damn, you owe me that bonus, cuz my girl is already singing. Keep walking and I’ll direct you.”
Rion left Cade to guard the Hunter and moved around the perimeter of the bridge. Niko corrected her a few times and finally, after several minutes, they found a corridor leading off the bridge, Diane pinging hard.
There were rooms on each side, and a few meters in, Niko told her to stop and move right, then: “Left. Definitely left.”
Rion squeezed through a tight spot in a damaged bulkhead, coming out into a large room that appeared to be some sort of secondary communications center.
“You’re close, boss. Signal is right in front of you.”
Rion scanned the room. Sleek counters, consoles, tables . . . There was some minor damage, mostly near the door. Cabinets were askew, panels buckled and cracked, a few tables overturned. As she went straight ahead, she studied every aspect she came into contact with, but all of it looked alien, Covenant. There was nothing that shouted UNSC. Her last hope was at the far wall of cabinets, which stretched the length of the room and appeared to be workstations of some sort.
Not finding anything on the countertop, she dropped to one knee and ran her hand over the sleek, flat fronts of the counter. Suddenly, a panel gave way. A door popped open.
And there it was. An unassuming gray ball of alloy amid a tangle of alien hardware.
For a moment, she couldn’t move. All she could do was stare with broken breath and stunned mind at the buoy nestled in its prison for the last twenty-six years. She rubbed her face and let out an uneven exhale as a slow electric shock slid along every nerve, branching out until it tingled her fingertips. History. She was looking at history. A solid, physical link to the Spirit of Fire.
A link to her father.
“Talk to me, boss.”
She jerked at the sound of Niko’s voice.
“Boss?”
Rion cleared her throat. It was thick with emotion. “Niko?”
“Yeah?”
“Consider that raise a done deal.”
His whoop cut through some of her shock and she found herself grinning and feeling rather breathless. “I’ll see you back on the ship.”
“Cha-ching. Roger that. See you soon.”
Rion’s hands were trembling as she took care to untangle the buoy from the cabinet’s contents. It was heavy and cold, and utterly priceless.
Once it was secure in her pack, she pushed to her feet, hiked the bag over her shoulder, and made for the break in the bulkhead, reminding herself to stay focused. They weren’t in the clear yet.
As she exited the room, emerging back into the corridor, she became disoriented. The bridge opening should be there, to her right, but there was nothing but a wall of darkness.
Wait. This wall was . . . breathing?
No. Writhing.
The hulking mass made a step toward her.
Rion stumbled back as the Mgalekgolo straightened to its full height.
Fear snaked down her spine. The holo-image had not done it justice at all. There was no two-ton shield, no cannon. Just body armor and wormy hands that could grab and rip as Cade had warned. Spikes jutted out of its back and shoulders, but they were limp and bent to one side.
Rion continued to back away, pulling her rifle over her shoulder and flicking the safety off. The Hunter’s orange belly and neck were exposed, its arms out wide as though daring her to strike.
A strange vibratory groan radiated from the creature, a peculiar, deep sound. A low, keening wail that seemed more in her mind than outside in the corridor. Though that wasn’t possible, was it? As the sound threaded around her, a deep sense of loneliness and grief filled her up and left her utterly stricken.
“End.”
She wasn’t sure if she heard that word outright or if it somehow had sprouted directly into her mind. Tears stung her eyes and she felt like she was drowning in the creature’s grief.
What the hell?
The Hunter made an aggressive step forward and suddenly slammed its fists together. It stomped a massive foot, egging her on.
“End.”
But she couldn’t make herself shoot. Something was off. It didn’t feel right.
A thwack, thwack, thwack! of shots rang out. Rion jerked, the sudden, unexpected barrage piercing her eardrums. Orange sprayed in an arc from the Hunter’s opposite side. She felt that moan again in her mind, that hurt and loss and desolation. The pain.
And above all, the relief. The staggering relief.
The Hunter turned toward Cade, stomping again as though about to charge him.
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
She flinched each time, ears ringing, eyes stinging, her throat growing thick with emotions that felt very real, yet irrational at the same time.
The Hunter doubled over as orange matter and liquid dropped to the floor, and fine bits splattered the wall beside her, a few landing on her chin and cheek.
The Hunter fell. And as it did, she continued to experience its pain and its relief.
“Rion!” Cade shouted.
Dazed, she couldn’t find her voice. In the back of her mind, she knew they had to get the hell out of there. There was no way the Sangheili outside would’ve missed the commotion.
“Rion!”
“I’m here. I’m fine.”
Cade edged around the dying Hunter, weapon still trained. “I’m sorry,” he said, breathing heavy, tripping over the words. Rion pulled her focus from the creature and saw that his hands were trembling. His skin was white and his pupils dilated. A small line of blood ran down his temple.
“Are you hurt?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You’re bleeding.”
“No. I—shit. My head.”
Rion touched his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Cade,” she said carefully. “What happened?”
A flush appeared on his pale face. “Jesus, Ri, you could have died. And I—I choked is what happened.”
She reached out again, but he flinched, moving away in shock.
“It stood up. The Hunter . . . and I just froze.”
“You’re bleeding. Let me—”
He knocked her hand away and let out a sharp, crazy laugh. “Yeah. Not only did I choke, but I fell ass over end on some goddamn piece of debris and knocked myself out.”
“It’s oka—”
“It’s not okay!” he roared, eyes turning glassy. “Damn it, Rion! It’s not okay! It only came looking for you because I took myself out of play!”
And then he was storming away, leaving her alone and still trying to process everything that had just happened. She stared at the dead Hunter, wondering if what she’d heard and felt had been real. It had come looking for her—a second option after Cade had fallen.
But it had done so because it wanted to die. She was sure of it. It had left an unconscious Cade and found her to do the deed instead.
Maybe there was some truth to what Niko had said about bonded pairs. . . .
“Uh, Cap? Those sigs are on the move, enterin
g the ship now. You have plenty of time to get out, but you’ve got to go now.”
“Copy. We’re headed out.”
Leaving the creature behind, Rion ran after Cade.
He was already moving off the bridge. “Cade!” she yelled after him.
Rion hesitated as she passed the center column that supported the bridge’s central command hub. Somewhere up there, a luminary might very well still be intact. . . .
She glanced down the path Cade had taken and then back up at the column. The buoy was in her possession, her partner was already gone, and she wasn’t about to press her luck.
Down the familiar passageways, she hurried after Cade. To the hole in the hull. And finally back onto the lava flows, breathing the thin, sulfur-laced air, and away from the ship.
Once Ace came into view, Rion’s patience gave way. She caught up to Cade and grabbed his arm. He spun on her. His color was back and his pupils were no longer the size of dinner plates, but his eyes held a wealth of horror, guilt, and embarrassment—emotions she rarely saw in the ex-marine.
“Cade . . . wait. It’s not your fault.”
He laughed and kept walking. “Why? Because I have history? That doesn’t give me a free pass to spaz out on you like that.”
“Yeah. Actually, I think it does.” He wasn’t a Spartan, for God’s sake. He was just a man.
He stopped. “No, it doesn’t. Not for me.” Disgusted, he continued on, but then changed his mind, turning around to face her. “You know how many times I found myself this close to a Hunter? More times than I can count. I’m talking Mgalekgolo in their prime. Not some weak-ass lumbering old worm farm without any shield or weapons. And when do I decide to choke?”
“Cade . . . you haven’t seen a Hunter in eight years. Eight years. So what, you froze. I’m fine. I didn’t need your protection. Stop taking on that responsibility—I never asked you to.” He flinched as if she’d struck him. It was an unfair blow and she instantly regretted her words. He’d been saving her the moment he helped her beat Sorely. And, yeah, she never asked him to then either. But it was part of who he was, part of what they did for each other.
He shook his head, some of his emotions appearing to deflate as he continued on to the Ace of Spades. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, hell, it does.”
“No,” he said as she drew up next to him, matching his pace. “It really doesn’t.”
“Fine. Let me know when you learn to give yourself a goddamn break.”
And with that, she jogged ahead of him.
ELEVEN
* * *
* * *
Cargo hold, Ace of Spades, Laconia, Procyon system
After boarding Ace and debriefing the crew, Rion sat on the ship’s loading ramp, arms resting over her knees, staring out at the gray volcanic world and the destroyer in the distance, curious as to why the Sangheili had given up the chase so easily. Surely, and with the wealth of tech aboard the Radiant Perception, they had enough experience to track their position. Yet they’d called off the pursuit almost before it had begun.
The sulfur wind blew her hair around her face. She tucked it behind her ears and watched the powder-fine ash blow across the flats. If ever there was a place that fit the definition of alien, Laconia was it. And though she’d seen plenty of beautiful planets, it was those like Laconia that always held her interest and got her wanderlust pumping. If there was salvage in the mix, even better.
A war of irritation and guilt was making the rounds inside her. She was pissed at Cade for being so unyielding with himself. And she was pissed with herself for making that shitty comment to begin with.
Truth was, he’d saved her ass too many times to count. In the early days of running the Hakon, she’d been something of a renegade. She loved taking risks, laughing in the face of insurmountable odds, and even loved a good, bruising fight that left her stiff for weeks. She was by no means the roughest salvager out there, but luck and a little skill had seen her through. There’d been some crazy sons of bitches, though . . . most of them dead now. Some of them so out-of-this-world violent that they gave the average marauders and pirates a bad name—she could think of a certain Brute and his cronies who fit that description very well. The group was so vicious they’d been banished from the Covenant back in its prime. How she’d like to put their leader six feet under and watch him work his way through a thousand levels of hell, but unfortunately he was still on the move, cutting a swath of red through the galaxy.
Sometimes Rion wondered if Cade hadn’t come along where she’d be now. . . .
Footsteps over metal rang out, and vibrated through the ramp.Cade sat down beside her, feet straight out and hands braced behind him. He was quiet for a while, watching the plume from an unseen volcano far in the distance and the small clouds of ash picked up by the wind and sent spinning over the lava flows.
“Messed-up day.”
Rion snorted. “Yeah.”
“Found your buoy though.”
“Unbelievable, huh?” She couldn’t help the frown. “Doesn’t seem real. It’s been, I don’t know . . . almost too easy.”
Cade chuckled. “It took you twenty-six years to find a good lead, Forge. That ain’t easy. Things are just snowballing right now.” He bumped her with his shoulder.
“Still a long ways to go . . .”
A particularly large swirl built and they watched it dance across the landscape until it dissipated.
“Look, I’m—”
“What I said—”
They stopped in unison. Rion laughed. And then: “You don’t have to say anything. What I said back there . . . It was ungrateful and—”
“Right,” he finished. “It was right. You’ve never needed saving. You never asked me to. Granted, without me around, you might be missing a few fingers and limbs by now, maybe a ship or two, but you’d have made it through without me.”
“Smart-ass.”
“You’ve saved me too. A dozen times over.”
He bumped her with his shoulder, before letting out a weary breath. “Can’t believe I froze . . . And for God’s sake, don’t tell the crew. I’ll never live it down.” He smiled halfheartedly, while deep disappointment lurked in his eyes. It’d be a long time before Cade could make this right with himself. “I’m getting old, Forge. Old and scared.”
She rolled her eyes. “The day you get old and scared is the day I berth this ship for good.”
Cade cocked his head, gaze narrowing on her, searching as though he was weighing an important decision. Then, he gave a casual, offhanded shrug. “I suppose I could retire with you.”
A slow grin spread across her face and her heart tripped. “I suppose I could too.”
A thud echoed behind them, followed by whispers. Glancing over their shoulders, they saw Lessa and Niko perched on the catwalk, two eavesdropping cretins, grinning like damn fools.
“Hey, boss!” Niko called. “With my raise I think I might retire with you too.” Then he had the nerve to make kissing noises.
“God, that kid has the most amazing lack of self-preservation.” Cade met Rion’s gaze as the siblings giggled from the catwalk.
“I’m going to kill them.”
He flashed her a wide smile. “Not if I do it first.”
Cade was up and running, Rion hurrying after him. When Niko saw them coming, he shrieked like an adolescent Jackal, the high-pitched sound making Rion stop and double over in laughter. Lessa’s laughing scream followed Niko’s, ringing out over the cargo hold as they hightailed it off the catwalk, Cade taking the steps two at a time, the metal ringing with the force.
Old and scared, my ass.
“Cap?”
Rion paused on the stairs at the sound of Kip’s voice over comms. “There’s a life-form running across the flats. Scan says it’s human.”
She went still. Cade a
nd the others began to quiet down.
Rion hurried to the locker room, grabbed a pair of high powered binoculars, and ran back to the loading ramp. “Direction?” she asked.
“Heading east from the war-freighter.”
Rion trained her sights on the ship and then tracked east. What she saw chilled her to the bone. “Jesus. That’s Ram Chalva.”
And he was running for his life.
His clothes were ragged. Blood and dirt covered his exposed skin. He was barefoot and struggling.
She tracked back to the Covenant war-freighter and her blood went cold. A large gray-skinned Sangheili was aiming at Ram. She knew that combat harness he wore, had even sold a few a couple of years ago. It was the kind once worn by the rank-and-file Sangheili in some of the Covenant’s first-wave assault lances. His head was bare, a bulky mass with parallel ridges protruding down the back of his skull to his thick neck. He was taller than the others taking shots at Ram, and held an air of authority. Something flashed on his shoulder, but she couldn’t see what it was. But she knew one thing—this wasn’t a pursuit. It was target practice. And what better way to flush out the other meddling salvagers here than to use another human for bait?
“Well, now we know why they gave up so easily,” Rion murmured. Then, “Cade, get up to the bridge. Kip, lay down fire until Cade gets there.”
“Now?” Kip asked.
“Yes, now! Right now!”
Rion raised the ramp a meter off the ground and then left it open, waiting only long enough to see a line of fire from Ace’s cannon split the atmosphere and connect with the destroyer behind the Covenant war-freighter. “The war-freighter, Kip!” She ran up the stairs with a mental note to never put Kip on weapons. “Cade, hurry the hell up!”
A minute later, Rion burst onto the bridge as Ace lifted off. “I’m taking control.” She slid into her chair. “Kip and Niko, get down to the loading ramp. We’re going in for a scoop.”
Rion engaged thrusters. Ace surged forward, gaining speed, then banking hard left toward Ram Chalva’s position. “Less, where is he?!” Rion shouted as a plasma bolt shot over their bow. Lessa was up and looking. . . .
