Halo: Ghosts of Onyx

by Eric S. Nylund

  And they were alone now, too.

  The Redoubtable, the Paris, and the Coral Sea, with their larger engines, had moved ahead in the Slipstream wake. They'd passed out of limited COM range an hour ago.

  "Sensor hits correlated, sir," Yang said.

  A graph appeared on Commander Lash's display, plotting frequency and temporal distributions of their ion trail. It was a power-law decay.

  That was the last ion they could expect. The trail was as cold as liquid helium. That meant either the Dusk had lost In Amber Clad … or it had dropped out of Slipspace.

  "Stand by for transition," Lash said.

  His officers snapped to, readying the Dusk to drop into the normal interstellar vacuum— or into the middle of a star or planet, for all they knew. There had been no time to plot a course.

  Commander Lash took a deep breath. "Jettison the HORNET mines," he told Lieutenant Commander Waters.

  "Sir?" he asked.

  "Do it. Pull denotation codes and send then down."

  Waters sighed explosively and nodded his head. "Yes, sir. Understood."

  His junior bridge officers exchanged a look, but they all knew they had to lose the nukes. They were going to remain stealthed, no matter what the cost, and fissile materials exiting Slipspace lit up with Cherenkov radiation—a signal flare to any Covenant ship within light-minutes.

  "Mines away," Waters whispered.

  "All external power off-line," Lash ordered. "Ablative baffles locked. Recheck engine dampers, and full power to counter sensor array."

  The crew scrambled to make the Dusk virtually invisible.

  Green LEDs lit on Commander Lash's status board. "Transition," he said.

  "Stand by," Lieutenant Durruno said from her NAV station.

  "Coordinating with Lieutenant Commander Cho in the core room. In four, three, two— now."

  Stars snapped on the forward viewscreen. A sun blazed to the left.

  "New course zero three zero by zero three zero," Commander Lash said. "One-quarter full."

  "Aye, sir," Durruno said, "answering new heading."

  It was a good idea to alter trajectory on a transition exit in case some telltale sign of their appearance manifested. Over the seven years he'd been on a prowler. Lash had learned that this class of ship was one of the slowest, most underpowered, and most poorly armed vessels in the UNSC fleet. Invisibility was their only defense.

  Lieutenant Yang's display lit with carrier wave patterns. "Signals," Yang cried. "Not our guys. Too many—at least a hundred of them!"

  Durruno at NAV craned her head for a better look, and then snapped back to her station. "Signal origin near the fourth planet," she said. "Magnifying and enhancing starboard camera view."

  The central screen panned to starboard and the image magnified a thousandfold.

  There were a hundred or more Covenant ships, a Covenant superbase or orbital city… and dwarfing all this was a ring-world construct as large as a moon.

  For a split second. Lash couldn't think. He was all animal, fight or flight… with an

  overwhelming portion of his mind focused on the flight portion of that imperative.

  He snapped out of it.

  "Yang," he whispered.

  Yang stared, mouth agape at the overwhelming Covenant forces.

  "Yang!"

  "Sir, yes." Yang shook his head clear. "I'm here, sir."

  "Good. Triple-check all countersensor packages. Make absolutely sure we are locked

  down tight. Very tight." "On it, sir."

  "Durruno," Commander Lash said, "move us dead slow into that asteroid field, at two point four AU."

  "Aye, sir." Her hands shook, but she plotted the new course.

  "There's no trace of In Amber Clad," Lieutenant Commander Waters said, staring into his display. "Or the Redoutable, Paris, or Coral Sea."

  "Detecting multiple energy spikes," Yang said, his voice now oddly steady. "They may have spotted us, sir."

  "Make ready to go to full power," Commander Lash said.

  The bridge officers tensed.

  "Sir," Waters said. "I see weapons discharging in the region… directed plasma fire, energy projectors. None targeting us."

  Lash magnified the viewscreen until the images of Covenant ships blurred. Flashes of fire and lances of lightning crisscrossed the dark.

  Lash whispered, "Who the hell are they shooting at?"

  Major Voro 'Mantakree drew his needier pistol and fired at the back of Ship Master Tano's head.

  The crystalline spines thucked into the Ship Master's skull and exploded—spraying blood, brains, and bits of skull over the command console.

  The magnitude of his treachery was unprecedented. What Sangheili1 Major would dare disobey a Ship Master who had led seven glorious campaigns against their enemies? Who would murder his superior officer on the bridge of the one of the fleet's most renowned cruisers?

  But how could Voro let this continue?

  1 Sangheili: the Elite name for their race

  Tano 'Inanraree had lost his mind, literally and figuratively. And while religious fervor was laudable under most conditions, it was not if it killed the entire crew of the Incorruptible… and destroyed their race.

  Voro stepped over the body of his friend and former commanding officer and bolstered his weapon.

  The U-shaped bridge seemed somehow smaller now, the blue-white light a little harsher than it had a moment ago, and the holographic consoles appeared covered in icons he couldn't understand. Voro blinked his nictating membranes and looked with cleared eyes at the bridge officers.

  Sangheili from the respected Dn'end Legion—Uruo Losonaee at Operations and Zasses Jeqkogoee at Navigation—stared with maws agape, shocked into inaction. Y'gar Pewtrunoee at the Communications/Sensors station nodded with understanding.

  But the bonded Lekgolo2 pair responsible for security on the Incorruptible tensed; their armored bulks took two thudding steps toward Major Voro. Their spines fanned in anger. One of their duties was to protect the Ship Master, and failing that, they were to enact revenge on his assassin.

  In truth, the bonded pair, Paruto Xida Konna and Waruna Xida Yotno, were a mystery to Voro. He had seen them tear enemies in half with their "hands" while in the midst of a mindless blood rage, and afterward pause to recite war poetry. How could any truly understand the Lekgolo? Inside their thick armor swarmed orange worms—a colony gestalt as alien as anything Voro had ever encountered.

  More pragmatically, they were indestructible—at least to Voro with his one pistol. Lekgolo armor could withstand multiple plasma bolts before even warming.

  Voro stood tall and unapoiogetic.

  The Lekgolo stared at him. Their forms shuddered and the eel

  2 Lekgolo: the Elite name for the Hunter race

  colonies pulsed in harmonic unison to produce a subsonic rumble, words that were more felt than actually heard. "A mercy kill," they said together. "You have done the Ship Master an honor."

  Voro resumed breathing. They were his now to command and to send into battle. As was the Reverence-class cruiser Incorruptible.

  "Does anyone else have words about this?" Voro asked his bridge officers.

  They looked to one another.

  Y'gar, the eldest bridge officer, stepped forward. His sole vanity was his left eye, which had been blinded in combat. He had refused to have the cataract repaired.

  "Tano was devout to the end," Y'gar said. "But his reasoning, in light of recent events, was not sound. This was regrettable, but necessary… Ship Master."

  There it was: Voro was Master now. All the honor his. All the responsibility his as well.

  He glanced at Tano, spilling his lifeblood over the command console, and set a hand on his mentor's shoulder, a parting gesture. "Remove him," Voro whispered.

  Y'gar made a chuffing sound and three Unggoy3 appeared and carried Tano off the bridge, sponging up the remains as they went.

  Voro knocked one with a cleaning rag aside. "Let his blo
od remain there," he said.

  The Unggoy scurried away.

  The stain would forever remain on Voro's soul; it could stay on the deck as well, a reminder of the price he had paid for their survival.

  Voro then stared at the central holographic viewer: at the insanity that surrounded the

  Incorruptible.

  3 Unggoy: the Elite name for the Grunt race

  The Second Fleet of Homogeneous Clarity was in chaos; more than a hundred ships maneuvered on random vectors, barely avoiding collisions, and in the distance the silver arc of the Forerunner Halo construct—ominous, breathtaking, and the source of this trouble.

  It had made Ship Master Tano lose his mind. He belonged to a fringe sect, the Governors of Contrition, who believed all Forerunner creations were sacrosanct. This even applied to the parasitic Flood infestation on Halo. Tano had reasoned that the Forerunners had created a perfect life-form, and it was therefore their duty to protect, even embrace, it. He had ordered the Incorruptible closer to the Halo ring to allow the disease aboard.

  That would never occur while Voro breathed. The Flood was an infection that had to be cleansed. There was nothing remotely "holy" about it.

  The Incorruptible shuddered.

  "Plasma on the port lateral shield," Uruo Losonaee said, leaning over his OPS station. His strained voice betrayed that he had only recently been initiated in combat. "Successfully deflected, but the shield has collapsed."

  The hull reverberated once more.

  "Strike on the aft shield," Uruo said. "It's holding."

  "One-third power forward," Voro said. "Roll to present starboard shields." He turned to Zasses on NAV. "Trace those firing solutions and get me a target!"

  "Calculating, sir," Zasses said. "Solution obtained. Two targets."

  A holographic frigate pair appeared on the deck and sped toward them: the Tenebrous and the Twilight Compunction, commanded by the alpha Jiralhanae4, Gargantum.

  This was Voro's other problem.

  4 Jiralhanae: the Elite name for the Brute race

  In the confusion caused by the departing Prophets, the Sangheili's ancient feud with the Jiralhanae had escalated into xenocide.

  The frigate pair moved as one, accelerating, their lateral lines warmed, and released a second salvo of plasma that arced toward the Incorruptible.

  "Maneuver one two zero by zero seven five," Voro shouted.

  "Coming about," Zasses answered, and the stars wheeled through the holographic view space. "Sir, that places the carrier Lawgiver between us and them."

  "The Lawgiver has fully generated lateral shields," Voro growled. "They can take the hit."

  The frigate pair split to miss the carrier in their flight path. The enemy ships, and their plasma torpedoes, became obscured by the bulk of the sleek carrier.

  "Heat lines four and seven," Voro ordered, "and prepare to target the Tenebrous as it emerges from the carrier's shadow. Divert engine power to the fore energy projector and make ready to (ire at full capacity. Estimate targeting solution based on last known trajectory."

  U ruo nodded and made the weapons ready.

  The alpha Jiralhanae Ship Master was savage, but he was ef-fective. Voro could not afford to merely wound one of them.

  The edges of the Lawgiver's shield shimmered, dispersing the plasma into fiery wisps— an inconvenience for them… a Hfe-saving maneuver for the Incorruptible.

  The Jiralhanae frigate attack pair appeared, one over and one under the carrier.

  "Fire all lines," Voro ordered.

  The lights on the bridge dimmed as plasma heated and flowed from their lateral banks and arced forward in two bloody streaks across the dark.

  "Counter guiding signals detected!" Y'gar shouted. "Attempt-ing to disrupt."

  The plasma blots drifted back and forth and diffused into smears in a signal tug-of-war between them and the Jiralhanae. Voro had not anticipated they had such abilities. Stolen, no doubt… so they wouldn't know all the system's intricacies.

  "Reprogram to home in on their signal lock," Voro said.

  "Yes," Y'gar murmured, and his hands moved algorithm blocks over this console. "Lock

  reestablished on new signal," he said.

  Their plasma smoothed, concentrated—and accelerated.

  The Jiralhanae frigate turned into their shot, presenting a smaller target.

  A desperate maneuver and not quick enough.

  The frigate's shield heated, dispersing the first bolt of superheated ionized gas. The

  second strike hit bare hull, melting the shield arrays and sensors, boiling away layers of smooth blue armor-alloy.

  "Fire energy projector," Voro commanded, "dead-center targeting solution."

  "Aye, sir," Uruo said. "Projector spinning up—firing."

  The bridge lights flickered to ultraviolet backup as all the In-cormpdble's power drained into one lance of destruction. It lit the space around the battle, a cleansing illumination. The Tenebrous appeared frozen in time for a moment… before the energy tore through its hull, blasting internal decks to atoms— amidships, and then the aft plasma coils—shattering the ship into a haze of glowing particles.

  The surviving Jiralhanae frigate, the Twilight Compunction, however, was untouched… and it continued toward them.

  "Recycling engine power," Zasses said. "Fifteen seconds until engine back online."

  Fifteen seconds could be a lifetime in a close-quarter space battle.

  "Depressurize Seraph launch bay fourteen," Voro shouted. "Dump plasma from auxiliary coils into the lateral lines."

  "Plasma diverted," Uruo answered, his face flushing purple. "Emergency depressurization—now."

  A tremble ran through the ship as the bay vented. Propelled by the sudden outgassing of their atmosphere, they turned toward the surviving frigate. The Incorruptible's lateral lines appeared to heat.

  The Twilight Compunction's engines flared and it turned, maneuvering behind a nearby destroyer for cover.

  They were retreating—as they should when presented with superior firepower… even if that power was an illusion.

  Voro wondered if the Jiralhanae Ship Master, Gargantum, had been aboard the Tenebrous, or if he had sent it ahead as a decoy.

  The carrier, the Lawgiver, turned, and lasers stitched the frigate. Several beams painted its hull, heating the shields— before another destroyer crossed the line of fire.

  "Main coil reenergized," Uruo said.

  "New course two seven zero by zero zero zero. Break fleet formation. We cannot fight without destroying our allies as well as our enemies."

  The Incorruptible turned and accelerated to a position three hundred kilometers over the fleet. Several ships fired upon one another, but many just drifted, unsure what action to take.

  Their leaders, the Prophets, were missing; some said they had left to partake in the Great foumey. Rumors abounded they had actually aligned with the Jiralhanae.

  There was, however, an even greater threat.

  The holographic arc of Halo appeared on the main viewer. Four destroyers stood near, abeam, and targeted hundreds of smaller craft—Phantoms, Spirits, and even Banshees— that attempted to evacuate the surface of the ring structure. They burned these craft with plasma bombardment and flashes of laser fire… but there were too many trying to escape.

  Nothing could be allowed to leave that place. If a single

  Flood-infected vessel transitioned to Slipspace—their existence would end. The plague would never again be contained.

  "Get me a fleetwide COM channel," he told Y'gar. "Use the Prophets' own frequencies."

  "Signal acquired," Y'gar said. "Ready for fleetwide broadcast."

  Voro spoke: "This is Ship Master Voro 'Mantakree of the Incorruptible to all loyal vessels in the Second Fleet of Homogeneous Clarity.

  "Brothers, we must cast out our confusion, and cease falling upon one another. The holy relic is tainted. We must burn the corruption before it takes us all.

  "Zasses," he
ordered, "send coordinating target solutions to the fleet." He motioned over the main holographic viewer, selecting portions of the Halo ring where dozens of Spirits were slipping away. "We must stop them before they make contact with one of those destroyers."

  "Aye, sir. Targeting solutions sent."

  The majority of the fleet, sluggish and disoriented, slowly aligned into a coherent fighting force: plasma arced from a hundred ships, and laser fire weaved lacy patterns on the dark of space.

  Under such a destructive salvo of combined fire, the smaller ships burned—leaving only debris and skeletal frames.

  "Do not close with the targets," Voro said over FLEETCOM. "Or the disease will spread." His hands grasped the command console.

  To the Lekgolo pair Voro whispered, "Sweep the ship, continuous patrol, until I order otherwise. Report any hull breach no matter how slight. Any deaths. Anything that might be Flood infection."

  The Xida Lekgolos nodded and they lumbered off the bridge, hands flexing in

  anticipation.

  "Uruo," Voro said, "ready the self-destruct sequence. We must be prepared."

  Uruo nodded, his maw working nervously, but he set plasma coils to detonation mode.

  "All ready," he replied.

  "One of the destroyers near the ring is hailing the fleet," Y'a-gar said. "Rapturous Arc."

  Static crackled and over that a whisper; "This is Ship Master of the Rapturous Arc. We

  are overwhelmed. Do not allow them to make us their instruments. I will not—"

  The signal terminated.

  The Rapturous Arc moved, wheeled toward the stars, and then continued to turn toward the other three destroyers abeam of Halo. It touched one of its brother ships, energy shields shimmered, frequencies matched, and the Flood-infected ship released a swarm of bulbous carrier forms.

  Over FLEETCOM Voro said, "Retarget. Burn those ships."

  Voro then ordered Uruo, "Heat lines and target projector."

  "Targeting solutions ready," Uruo announced.

  Voro could take no chance. "Fire," he said.

  Plasma and energy projectors fired from a dozen nearby ships and painted the two vessels. The destroyers' shields collapsed—decks mushroomed outward from the aft engine compartments—a wave of illumination that flared white, and then cooled to smoky afterimages.