by Eric Nylund
“Sir,” Dominique answered, his deep voice thick with worry. “No escape craft have left theCradle .”
All eyes on theIroquois ’ bridge were riveted to the screen. Keyes’ hands clenched with anger and helplessness. There was nothing to do but watch.
The front view screen went black as the station passed in front of them. Pinpoints of red and orange appeared along the back surface, metal vapor venting in plumes.Cradle lurched closer to the fleet, the impact of the plasma torpedoes pushing it back. The station continued to move downward, spreading out the damage. Holes appeared in the surface; the internal lattice of steel girders was exposed and, seconds later, glowed white-hot—then the view screen was clear again.
“Ventral cameras,” Captain Keyes said. “Now!” The view changed as Dominique switched to theIroquois ’ belly cameras.Cradle station reappeared. She
spun and her entire forward surface was aglow . . . heat spread to the edges, the center liquefied and pulled away. “MAC guns ready to fire in three seconds,” Lieutenant Hikowa announced, her voice cold and angry.
“Targeting lock acquired.”
Keyes gripped the arms of the command chair. “Cradle’s crew bought this shot for us, Lieutenant,” Captain Keyes growled. “Make it count.” TheIroquois shuddered as the MAC gun fired. On the status display, Keyes watched as the rest of the
UNSC fleet fired simultaneously. A twenty-one-gun salute three times over for those on board the
station who had given their lives. “All ships: break and attack!” Admiral Stanforth bellowed. “Pick your targets and fire at will. Take as many of these bastards out as you can! Stanforth out.”
They had to move before the Covenant plasma weapons recharged.
“Give me fifty percent on our engines,” Captain Keyes ordered, “and come about to course two eight zero.” “Aye,” Ensign Lovell and Lieutenant Hall replied in unison. “Lieutenant Hikowa, release safeties on the Archer missile system.” “Safeties disengaged, sir.” TheIroquois moved away at a near-right angle from the phalanx formation. The other UNSC ships
scattered at all vectors. One UNSC destroyer, theLancelot , accelerated straight toward the Covenant line. As the UNSC ships scattered, the MAC salvo reached the Covenant ships. The Admiral’s firing solutions had targeted the remainder of the Covenant battlegroup’s smaller ships. Their shields sparkled,
rippled, and then flickered out of existence. Their frigates shattered under the impact of the firepower. Holes ripped through their hulls. Wrecked spacecraft drifted lazily through the battle area. The surprise second salvo had cost the Covenant dearly—a dozen enemy ships were out of the fight. That left eight Covenant vessels—destroyers and cruisers.
Pulse lasers and Archer missiles fired, and every ship onscreen accelerated towards one another. Both Covenant and UNSC ships released their single-ship fighters.
The tac computer was having trouble tracking everything—Keyes cursed to himself over the lack of a ship AI—as the missile fire and plasma discharges strobed in the blackness. Single ships—the humans’ Longsword fighters and the flat, vaguely piscine Covenant fighters—dove, and fired, and impacted into warships. Archer missiles left trails of exhaust. Blue pulse lasers scattered inside the clouds of vented propellant and atmosphere, and cast a ghostly blue glow over the scene.
“Orders, sir?” Lovell asked nervously.
Captain Keyes paused—something felt . . . wrong. The battle was utter chaos, and it was nearly impossible to tell exactly what was happening. Sensor data was thrown off by the constant detonations and the fire of the aliens’ energy weapons.
“Scan near the planet, Lieutenant Hall,” Keyes said. “Ensign Lovell, move us closer to Sigma Octanus Four.”
“Sir?” Lieutenant Dominique said. “We’re not engaging the Covenant fleet?”
“Negative, Lieutenant.”
The bridge crew paused for a fraction of a second—all except Ensign Lovell, who tapped on the controls and plotted a new course. The bridge crew had all had a taste of being heroes in their last battle, and they wanted more. Captain Keyes knew what that was like . . . and he knew how dangerous it was.
He was not about to charge into battle, however, with theIroquois at half power, her structural integrity already compromised, and with no AI to mount a point defense against Covenant single ships. One plasma torpedo to their lower decks would gut them.
If he remained where he was and attempted to shoot into the fray, he was just as likely to accidentally hit a friendly ship as a Covenant vessel.
No. There were several damaged Covenant ships in the area. He would finish them off—make sure they could not launch any attack on their fleet. There was no glory in the action—but considering their present condition, glory was of little concern. Survival was.
Captain Keyes watched the battle rage in the starboard camera. TheLeviathan took a plasma bolt, and her foredecks burned. One Covenant ship collided with the UNSC frigateFair Weather ; the superstructures of the two craft locked together—and both ships opened fire at point-blank range. TheFair Weather detonated into a ball of nuclear fire that engulfed the Covenant destroyer. Both ships
faded from the tactical display. “Covenant ship detected in orbit around Sigma Octanus Four,” Lieutenant Hall reported. “Let me see it,” Keyes said. A small vessel appeared on-screen. It was smaller than the Covenant equivalent of a frigate . . . but
definitely larger than one of the aliens’ dropships. It was sleek and seemed to waver in and out of the blankness of space. The engine pods were baffled and devoid of the characteristic purple-white glow of Covenant propulsion systems.
“They’re in a geosynchronous orbit over Côte d’Azur,” Lieutenant Hall reported. “Their thrusters are
firing microbursts. Precision station keeping, sir, if I were to guess.” Lieutenant Dominique interrupted. “Detected scattering from a narrow-beam transmission on the planet surface, sir. A far-infrared laser.”
Captain Keyes turned toward the main battle on-screen. Was this slaughter just a diversion?
The original attack on Sigma Octanus IV had been for the sole purpose of landing ships and invading Côte d’Azur. Once accomplished, their battle group had left. And now—whatever the Covenant’s purpose was groundside, they were sending information to this
stealth ship . . . while the rest of their fleet kept the UNSC forces from interfering. “Like hell,” he muttered. “Ensign Lovell, plot a collision course for that ship.” “Aye, sir.” “Lieutenant Hall, push the engines as far as you can. I need every bit of speed you can get me.” “Yes, sir. If we vent primary coolant and use our reserve, I can boost the engine output to sixty-six
percent . . . for five minutes.” “Do it.” TheIroquois moved sluggishly toward the Covenant ship. “Intercept in twenty seconds,” Lovell said.
“Lieutenant Hikowa, arm Archer missile pods A through D. Blow that Covenant son of a bitch out of the
sky.” “Archer missile pods armed, sir,” she replied smoothly. Her hands moved gracefully over the controls. “Firing.”
Archer missiles streaked toward the Covenant stealth ship—but as they closed with the target, they
started to swerve from side to side, then spun out of control. The spent missiles fell toward the planet. Lieutenant Hikowa cursed quietly in Japanese. “Missile guidance locks jammed,” she said. “Their ECM spoofed the guidance packages, sir.”
No other choice, then,Keyes thought.They can jam our missiles—let’s see them jam this.
“Run them over, Ensign Lovell,” Keyes ordered.
He licked his lips. “Aye, sir.”
“Sound collision alarm,” Captian Keyes said. “All hands, brace for impact.”
“She’s moving,” Lovell said.
“Keep on her.”
“Course correcting now. Hang on,” Lovell said.
The eight-thousand-tonIroquois slammed into the tiny Covenant ship.
On the bridge, they barely felt the impact. The di
minutive alien vessel, however, was crushed from the
force. Her crippled hull spun toward Sigma Octanus IV. “Damage report!” Keyes bellowed. “Lower decks 3 through 8 show hull breach, sir,” Hall called out. “Internal bulkheads were already
closed, and no one was in those areas, per your orders. No systems damage reported.”
“Good. Move to her original position, Ensign Lovell. Lieutenant Dominique, I want that transmission beam intercepted.” The ventral cameras showed the Covenant ship plunge into the atmosphere. Its shield glowed yellow,
then white—then dissipated as the ship’s systems failed. It burst into crimson flame and burned across
the horizon, a black plume of smoke trailing in its wake. “TheIroquois is losing altitude,” Ensign Lovell said. “We’re falling into the planet’s atmosphere . . . bringing us about.” TheIroquois spun 180 degrees. The Ensign concentrated on his displays, then said, “No good, we need more power. Sir, permission to fire emergency thrusters?”
“Granted.” Lovell exploded the aft emergency thrusters and theIroquois jumped. Lovell’s eyes were locked on the
repeater displays as he fought for every centimeter of maneuvering he could get. Sweat ran down his forehead and soaked his flight suit. “Orbit stabilizing—barely.” Lovell exhaled with relief, then turned to face Keyes. “Got it, sir. Thrusters
to precision station keeping.”
“Receiving,” Lieutenant Dominique said, and then paused. “Receiving . . . something, sir. It must be encrypted.” “Make sure you’re recording, Lieutenant.” “Affirmative. Recorders active . . . but the codebreaker software can’t crack it, sir.” Captain Keyes turned back to the tac displays, half expecting to see a Covenant ship in firing position. There wasn’t much left of either the Covenant or UNSC fleets. Dozens of ships drifted in space,
billowing atmosphere and burning. The rest moved slowly. A few flickered with fire. Scattered
explosions dotted the black. One undamaged Covenant destroyer turned, however, and left the battlefield. It came about and headed straight for theIroquois .
“Uh-oh,” Lovell muttered. “Lieutenant Hall, get me theLeviathan —priority Alpha channel,” Keyes ordered. “Yes, sir,” she said. Admiral Stanforth’s image appeared in the holotank. His forehead had a gash across it, and blood
trickled into his eyes. He wiped it away with a shaking hand, his eyes blazing with anger. “Keyes? Where the hell isIroquois ?”
“Sir,Iroquois is in geosynchronous orbit over Côte d’Azur. We’ve destroyed a Covenant stealth ship and are in the process of intercepting a secure transmission from the planet.”
The Admiral stared at him a moment unbelievingly, then nodded as if this made sense to him. “Proceed.” “We have a Covenant destroyer leaving the battle . . . bearing down on us. I think the reason for the Covenant’s invasion may be in this coded transmission. And they don’t want us to know, sir.”
“Understood, son. Hang on. The Cavalry’s on its way.” On the aft screen, the remaining eight UNSC ships broke their attacks and turned toward the incoming
destroyer. Three MAC guns fired and impacted on the Covenant vessel. Its shields only lapsed for a split second; it took a round through her nose . . . but it continued toward theIroquois at flank speed. “Transmission ended, sir,” Lieutenant Dominique announced. “Cut off in midpacket. The signal was
terminated at the source.”
“Damn.” Captain Keyes considered staying and trying to reacquire that signal—but only for a moment. He decide to take what they had and run with it. “Ensign Lovell, get us the hell out of here.” “Sir!” Lieutenant Hall said. “Look.” The Covenant destroyer was changing course . . . along with the rest of the surviving Covenant vessels.
They were scattering, and accelerating out of the system. “They’re running,” Lieutenant Hikowa said, her normal iron calm replaced by astonishment. Within minutes, the Covenant ships accelerated and vanished into Slipstream space. Captain Keyes looked aft and counted only seven UNSC ships intact, with the balance of the fleet
destroyed or disabled.
He sat in his command chair. “Ensign Lovell, take us back the way we came. Make ready to take on wounded. Repressurize all uncompromised decks.” “Jesus,” Lieutenant Hall said. “I think we actually . . . won that one.” “Yes, Lieutenant. We won,” Keyes replied. But Captain Keyes wondered exactly what they had won. The Covenant had come to this system for a
reason—and he had a sinking feeling that they may have gotten what they had come for.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
2010 Hours, July 18, 2552 (Military Calendar) / Sigma Octanus IV, Côte d’Azur
It was time to arm the nuke.
The small device held the power to destroy Côte d’Azur—wipe the Covenant infection clean off the planet.
John carefully removed the bonding strips on the HAVOK tactical nuclear device and attached it to the wall of the sewer. The adhesive on the black half sphere stuck and hardened to the concrete. He slipped the detonator key into a thin slot on the unit’s face. There were no external indicators on the device; instead, a tiny screen winked on his heads-up display indicating the nuke was armed.
HAVOK ARMED, flashed across his HUD. AWAITING DETONATION SIGNAL.
The device—a clean thirty-megaton explosive—could only be detonated by a remote signal . . . a problem here in the sewers. Even the powerful communications package on a starship would be unable to penetrate the steel and concrete overhead.
John quickly rigged a ground-return transceiver, placing it on the pipes overhead. He’d have to set up another unit outside to relay the signal underground . . . a hot line that would trigger a nuclear firestorm.
Technically, his mission parameters had been fulfilled. Green and Red Teams would have the civilians evacuated soon. They had scouted the region and discovered a new Covenant species—the strange floating creature that disassembled and reassembled human machinery, like a scientist or engineer stripping down a device to learn its secrets.
He could leave and destroy the Covenant occupation force. Heshould leave—there was an army of Jackals and Grunts—including at least a platoon of the black-armored veterans—on the streets above. There were three medium Covenant dropships hovering in the air as well. The advance Marine strike forces had been slaughtered, leaving the Spartans no backup. His responsibility now was to make sure his team got out intact.
But John’s orders had an unusual amount of flexibility . . . and that made him uncomfortable. He had been told to reconnoiter the region and gather intelligence on the Covenant. He was positive there was more to be learned here.
Certainly they were up to something in Côte d’Azur’s museum. The Covenant had never before been interested in human history—or indeed, in humans or their artifacts of any kind. He had seen a disarmed Jackal fight hand to hand rather than pick up a nearby human assault rifle. And the only thing the Covenant had ever used human buildings for was target practice.
So finding out the reason they seized and were protecting the museum definitely qualified as intelligence
gathering in his book. Was it worth exposing his team to find out? And if they died, would he be wasting their lives . . . or spending them for something worthwhile?
“Master Chief?” Kelly whispered. “Our orders, sir?” He opened Blue Team’s COM channel. “We’re going in. Use your silencers. Don’t engage the enemy
unless absolutely necessary. This place is too hot. We’ll just poke our noses in—see what they’re up to and bug out.” Three acknowledgment lights winked on. The Master Chief knew they implicitly trusted his judgment. He just hoped he was worthy of that trust. The Spartans checked their gear and threaded silencers onto their assault rifles. They slipped silently
down a wide side passage of the sewer. A rusty ladder ran up to the ceiling, and a steel plate had been welded in place. “Thermite paste already set up,” Fred reported. “Burn it.” The Master Chief stepped to the side an
d looked away. The thermite sputtered as bright as an electric arc welder, casting harsh shadows into the chamber. When
it finished there was a jagged, glowing red circle in the steel.
The Master Chief climbed up the ladder and put his back against the plate—pushed. It popped free with a metallicsnap . He eased the plate down and set it aside. He attached the fiber-optic probe, fed it up through the hole. All clear. He flexed his leg muscles and sent the MJOLNIR armor up through the hole, pulling himself into the
next chamber with his left hand. His right hand held the silenced assault rifle as if it were no heavier than a pistol. He braced for incoming enemy fire—
—Nothing happened. He moved forward and surveyed the small room. The stone-walled chamber was dark, and was lined with shelving units. Each unit held jars filled with clear liquid and insect specimens. Boxes and crates were stacked neatly on the floor.
Kelly entered next, then Fred and James. “Picking up motion sensor signals,”Kelly said over the COM channel. “Jam them.” “Done,”she replied.“They may have gotten a piece of us, though.” “Spread out,” the Master Chief ordered. “Get ready to jump back into the hole if this gets too hot.
Otherwise, initiate the standard distract-and-destroy.” The clatter of alien hooves on marble echoed behind a door to their right. The Spartans melted into the shadows. The Master Chief crouched behind a crate and unsheathed his
combat knife. The door opened and four Jackals stood in the door frame; they held active energy shields in front of
them—warping their already ugly vulture faces. The blue-white glow of the energy shield pulsed through the dark chamber.Good, the Master Chief thought.That should play hell with their night vision. The Jackals held plasma pistols at the ready in their free hands; the barrels of the guns moved erratically
as the aliens whispered to one another . . . then steadied as, in careful, slow movements, they moved in.
The aliens fanned out into a rough “delta” formation—the lead Jackal a meter ahead of his compatriots. The group approached the Master Chief’s hiding spot. There was a slight noise: the clink of glass bottles on the other side of the room. The Jackals turned . . . and presented their unshielded backs to the Master Chief. He exploded from his hiding place and jammed his blade into the base of the closest Jackal’s back. He
