Chapter 14
T'alman Val wasn't considered a brave Sangheili soldier. He was satisfied with his role in the Covenant, though: piloting a shuttle for dignitaries attached to the Minister of Conversion. He wasn't a shrewd San'Shyuum, like others he had met, but he didn't like to be bothered with unnecessary details. That was the Minister's biggest complaint with his minions, and Val had certainly crossed that line before. Val's reprimand involved being knocked down a rank only to work back up to it after a year of dedicated service to the Minister and honing his piloting skills.
So when the call came in that Eye of Karaan, the Corvette to be basked in praise and glory for finding a back door for their "secret" mission, could not dock with Harrowing Faith, the flagship frigate of the Minister of Conversion, Val was ordered to take his shuttle to dock with the Corvette and bring back the Shipmaster so he could personally hand over the coordinates to the Minister. It was a great honor, and Val was flushed with excitement.
The two Sangheili bodyguards clad in their grandiose armor, which was more for show and wouldn't do much in a fight, were waiting for him at the base of the shuttle's ramp. The private landing bay provided access to the Minister's chambers, and Val held back a grin, momentarily taking pride that he was among a select few that had a right of entry to the Minister. Other than a single Unggoy that was operating a floor cleaning unit near the blast door that Val had just exited, there was no one else around.
Val nodded to the warriors before ducking inside the craft. Neither Sangheili acknowledged him, but followed him inside nonetheless. The shuttle was lavishly furnished, complete with a personal washroom, the finest grade of knachtahyde-lined couches, and elegantly crafted dark wood molding from select forests on Sanghelios. The main cabin narrowed toward the cockpit, and Val left the fine-grain veneered wood door open, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Shipmaster's expression when he would enter the shuttle. But as he prepared his startup procedure, one of the warriors sealed the door behind him.
Only slightly flummoxed by the gesture, he settled his mind on the preparations. His pre-flight went flawlessly and the shuttle was soon lifting off the deck and breaking through the energy field into hard vacuum. He worked the controls and sent the craft on a lazy arc towards the Corvette. Gone was the escort hauler, and Eye of Karaan was now stationed directly starboard to Harrowing Faith, the two mighty ships' bows opposite one another.
The Corvette was still suffering from the erratic shield and cloaking malfunction, and every exterior shutter that Val could see was locked closed. Which means the large docking bay will not be accessible. Val let a grin tug at the crease in between his right mandibles. Just another opportunity to show the Minister how good of a pilot he has.
He brought the shuttle around to the Corvette's starboard side and saw the brief flicker of warning lights that lined the circular hatch that was parallel with the ship's midline halfway down its neck. Ah, there it is. He used a generated holographic outline to keep a continual image of the hull so the cloaking systems wouldn't throw him off. The shuttle slowed and he activated the docking tube to extend out. It wasn't the most glamorous way to board a shuttle, but it was utilitarian enough to get the job done.
Watching on a monitor, the graphic readout lined up with the hatch and the docking tube locked in place. He waited for the Corvette to neutralize pressure with the tube, and kept his eyes on the two dimensional image that now showed an interior view of the through-way tunnel, hoping for a peak of the Shipmaster entering the tube and stepping onto his ship.
A warning klaxon flashed red and blurted out a series of tones. Switching it off, Val swore out loud and helplessly watched the monitor's image fill with steam clouds, completely obscuring his view. The Corvette's atmosphere must have been completely freezing to warrant such a massive burst of steam and condensation. He knew he would be blamed for the mishap, even though it was the Corvette's own airlock that was to blame.
Val's hands tightened into fists but he forced them open. If it was any other San 'Shyuum, he would have reported the incident then and there and more than likely kept an open line of communication for any updates . . . but the Minister of Conversion would be annoyed with details that didn't warrant his opinion on the matter. Val sighed and squinted at the monitor. A figure did appear, but it was too hard to tell if it was the Shipmaster—it was moving too fast.
Through the veneered wood door, Val thought he heard one of the Sangheili say something that he didn't relay through the shuttle's internal comm system. Then he heard a series of muffled thuds and a short staccato of hurried footsteps growing louder with each fraction of a second.
Val spun around in his chair just in time to see a blurry figure encased in dull green armor break the door down and reach for Val's throat. The figure was too fast, and Val was lifted from his loose restraints and hauled out into the main cabin. He was thrown to the floor and landed hard on the two bodyguards that were lying unmoving. His head hit something hard and stars exploded before his eyes.
Before he could even reach for his sidearm, the steam before him parted with a swirl and the figure was upon him again, this time grabbing the back of his uniform and lifting him up like some feline being inspected by its handler. It was only then that his mind finally caught up with the events that had just played out.
Val was looking straight into the reflective visor of a Demon, and it was at the moment that he realized that this "minor" detail would have been something worthy of the Minister's attention. He closed his eyes and accepted his fate.
The Demon shifted its grip and snapped Val's neck, quickly and quietly.
Nicole took the data chip fragment of Melissa and inserted it into the Covenant shuttle's cockpit console. The AI's image appeared in holo-form immediately.
"Are you going to clean up your mess?" Melissa asked very motherly.
The Spartan cracked a smile. The AI, while annoying at times, did have her moments. "Don't want to throw off any body signature scans the Covies might direct our way." She plopped down in the pilot's vacant seat as the docking tube began to retract.
"Then you might want to rearrange them in a less . . . suggestive manner."
Nicole glanced back over her shoulder, saw the pile of dead Elites practically on top of one another, and laughed out loud.
"It wouldn't matter, anyway. This is a political vessel and it has plenty of sensor deterrents for such things." Melissa's expression soured. "I do wish you would have accepted Thorm's suggestion to bring a squad from his Security Detail along. Things are likely to get a bit loud and bright in the next few minutes."
"They would have complicated things," she said distractedly. "Less ID chips to monitor," she said, her eyes going over the shuttle's controls. "Can you fly this thing, or should I?"
Melissa's reply was to pull the shuttle away from Eye of Karaan and put her on a return course, following the same flight path the previous pilot had taken.
As Nicole looked out the viewports and saw the Covenant formation all around them, it made her wonder if Melissa could really do what she had promised. So much of this portion of the mission was reliant upon the UNSC AI's ability to interface with the Covenant Frigate's systems—and for a fragment of an AI, no less. Still, Melissa had managed to take complete control over Eye of Karaan without breaking a sweat.
The shuttle passed through the energy field and entered the small docking bay. Melissa rotated the craft 180 degrees, with the cockpit facing out to look at the stars, and set the shuttle down gently. The AI shifted her stance. "The bay is empty. No other lifeforms that I can detect using this shuttle's sensors."
Nicole rose from the captain's chair and pulled her MA5B from the magnetic strip on the back of her armor. She hefted the assault rifle in her hands. "Can you give me some sort of floor plan for the Frigate?"
Melissa nodded. "Yank me and find a terminal. With luck, I'll be able to access Harrowing Faith's systems from there, but I can't promise anything. We might have to find something deeper in the Frigate, where there's higher access."
Nicole reached out and pulled the data chip from the console. Melissa's avatar vanished as the shuttle's ramp lowered. Taking a deep breath, the Spartan stepped out onto the ramp and into the bay.
"We are in position, Captain," Jovan announced proudly. Nagamo was now stationed below the cluster of the three refuelers and the dozen massive freighters with the seven Corvettes arrayed in a loose diamond formation around them: one to starboard, one to port, one below, one above, one aft, and two leading the group. The nearest Corvette looked identical to Eye of Karaan, but did have its forward shutters open fully, giving some distinction to the otherwise carbon-copy group.
"Word must be spreading that the fleet is about to move; most of the patrol craft are returning to the modified-Frigate," the AI continued.
"Yes," Thorm said, studying the Banshees looping back around one last time. "Move us into position. Weapons, on my mark, launch the mines and prep the rest for immediate deployment." He turned to Jovan. "Don't arm them until we receive the signal from Captain Jokling."
"Aye, Sir," came the reply from both officer and AI.
As Nagamo drifted slowly under the sensor shadow of the great refuelers, Thorm nodded. "Mark."
Silently and smoothly, the HORNET mines exited their launch tubes and stealthily traveled to their destinations, some almost 50 kilometers away. Even if there was a local sun to illuminate the mines, they were non-reflective and near completely undetectable to any system, Covenant or otherwise.
"Captain, Weapons Bay is reporting 'ready' for the next batch," the Weapons officer said.
"Launch the rest."
As the remaining mines were jettisoned, Galin knew he had to time this just right. The backup tactic was to simulate the refueling tankers sudden implosion and subsequent explosions as a horrific accident at first, just in case timing issues with Eye of Karaan and Apocolypso weren't synced exactly. When the seven Corvettes found themselves steering clear of the debris, they will be met with the remaining cluster of mines. The dozen freighters had minimal weapons, so they were the lowest priority for Thorm. If they weren't evaporated in the tankers' explosions, he could still easily evade them.
"Alright, Jovan, take us to the back of the group." Thorm motioned to the two rear-most freighters. "We can come right into their wake if the shooting starts and we need some makeshift cover. They'll think twice about firing close to those freighters."
As Nagamo eased into position, ready to strike at the moment Eye of Karaan was able to signal them, Galin hoped that Captain Greene was almost finished with her battle preparations. Apocolypso's task was to take out the escort frigates and neutralize the Command Ship, if need be. Greene also expressed concern that Eye of Karaan might fall under suspicion and attack earlier than they could anticipate. While the Corvette wasn't completely unarmed, Galin didn't want Kandis thrown into a skirmish with an unfamiliar ship.
When the time came, he would do his best to preserve as many Human lives as possible.
"Shuttle launch!" The sensors officer called out.
"Track it," Galin ordered, already seeing the sleek ship exit the Command Ship and head towards the adjacent Corvette. The viewscreen display zoomed out and showed the rest of the Banshees entering at least four narrow docking bays on the modified-frigate now tagged "Harrowing Faith."
The shuttle docked for a moment and then head back to the lone bay fixed near the top of the crest of Harrowing Faith's bow. But his eyes had been locked on the Corvette and its flickering cloaking system, waiting to see if there was the signal they had been waiting for. "Jovan?"
"There it is," the AI said nonchalantly.
Since they couldn't very well transmit a code, even on the Covenant bandwidths, Melissa had recommended they take advantage of the cloaking system failure and add their own algorithm into the random cycle to establish a collective point that the UNSC-controlled ships could sync together. Galin squinted at the viewscreen, wondering when exactly Melissa was able to flash such a coded message; he had been watching the entire time. "Are you sure?"
Apparently Jovan could detect Galin's uncertainty. "It only lasted a few nanoseconds, Captain." The AI stood a little straighter on his pedestal. "Melissa's fragment reports that the Spartan has successfully commandeered the shuttle and Captain Jokling has started the countdown, Mark: plus eight seconds."
On the other viewscreen, a countdown appeared, shaving off the eight seconds Jovan had calculated. Galin swallowed. "Alright, everyone. This is it." His gaze fell back on Eye of Karaan and he silently pleaded that Kandis would know when to run.
Rolf Sorenson tried to batten down her anxiousness. The Spartan now had less than 10 minutes to get Melissa into Harrowing Faith's systems and start the process of their attack, but it was the crew of Eye of Karaan that had to be without the AI for the duration. Leaving all of us to pull double duty.
Professor Sorvad walked up from behind her. "No need for worry," he said quietly. "That Spartan will get the job done."
"It's not the Spartan I'm worried about."
Sorvad chuckled and placed a reaffirming hand on Rolf's shoulder. "Melissa will get the Frigate under control, I have no doubt. Her generation of AIs was bred with this very thing in mind."
He just doesn't get it. "And us?" she asked. "There are about a thousand things that could go wrong with this plan, and our only contingency is to get clear of the engagement zone and enter the Slipstream."
Apparently she had retorted a bit too loudly and Captain Jokling got up from her command chair and walked over to Rolf's station. Whether she had planned it or not, Jokling's hair was draped forward over the swell of her chest, giving her a slightly seductive look, and her narrowed eyes only added to the demeanor. "There's slightly more to it, Sorenson. Our parameters are based upon the idea that we are the Neutral Target, so to speak. The Covies will think twice about taking us out." She smiled. "Our illusion of being crippled will see to that as well. And we are not completely defenseless either."
And with that, Rolf clenched her mouth shut. This was no way to act during a possible evaluation period for a permanent post on an ONI vessel. She definitely had hopes of serving aboard Apocolypso fulltime, but the more immediate threat of her career was her current predicament of being in the middle of an engagement zone.
"It's a matter of knowing when to run," Kandis continued. She began a slow walk back to her chair. "Which in our case is fairly soon. Once the countdown is complete, we run our system failures simulations and go dark, drifting away from the fleet. Hopefully, confusion will reign and the Prowlers will do their work as well. Eye of Karaan becomes an unneeded distraction while the surviving fleet tries to make sense of what is happening, and we vanish into the Slipstream."
Rolf wanted to snort at the gross simplification of their plan. She also didn't take Captain Jokling for an optimist. A realist, at most, but not an optimist. It had to be a masked malaise put on to show the crew that she was confident in their success. In the end, it didn't matter. Rolf took Jokling as a survivor by nature, and the fact that Sorvad was still on board meant they held the 'save the civilians first' card.
But then there was the Spartan. Rolf felt a heat rush into her and settle in the location it normally did when thinking about those she lusted after. She let her mind drift to the abbreviated encounter with the teen, but knew she could get lost in the details, and she shook her head, willing away the recent memories.
The Spartan technically had the most weight placed on her shoulders. Her success was tied into the AI fragment she carried, but her survival was something no one else could predict. Her escape from the Frigate was a matter of improvisation, something Spartans had a knack for—so Rolf had heard. Still, there was a portion of her emotions that generated more than enough anxiousness for Nicole's success.
All Rolf could do now was to wait.