The men in the control room of September Station were weary, and looked at their stations with bleary eyes. The officer in control - Chief Petty Officer O'Connor - looked at his timepiece and sighed. It would be another five hours at least before they got the Orion out of dock, and twenty-seven hours for the Winter Moon. The Station didn't have its own AI to coordinate things. That meant they would have to keep a solid stream of men working in shifts the whole time. Shifts, he thought, at least this one's almost over.
"All right men, you can stand down. Shift's about over and I . . ."
"Sir!" the communications officer interrupted. "Sorry, sir, but we have an urgent communication from Pythagoras Sensing Station. Priority message, sir!"
The CPO straightened. A Priority message from . . . where? Pythagoras? He'd never heard of that station. Or had he? A bad feeling pulled at his gut.
"Bring up the message on my screen, Lieutenant!" he ordered. The com Lt. typed hurriedly. The screen at O'Connor's station flashed. It read:
United Nations Space Command Emergency Priority Transmission 091-237-844
Encryption Code: Red
Public Key: NA
From: Petty Officer Rendell, Pythagoras Sensor Outpost
To: Chief Petty Officer O'Connor, September Refit Station
Subject: SLIPSPACE PROBE SCAN RESULTS
Classification: RESTRICTED
/start file/
CPO O'Connor, must report that Pythagoras Outpost has detected anomalous mass in Slipspace moving on intercept course with you at high speed. Profile matches known Covenant vessels. Estimate three, possible four medium-tonnage vessels. May have reached you BEFORE this transmission. Recommend immediately carry out Cole Protocol, dispatch any UNSC vessels for protection, or evacuation. Godspeed.
/end file/
press ENTER to end
Oh my God, thought O'Connor. Covenant vessels were amazingly powerful and resilient. Most crewmen didn't know that UNSC vessels only defeated the Covenant when they outnumbered them three to one, and even then not without heavy casualties. Three against two was not good odds.
"Lieutenant, bring up the location of Pythagoras Outpost relative to September Station on my screen." The screen changed, and a star chart came up. September Station was on one end, but where was Pythagoras? Then he noticed an icon flashing. His stomach jerked. It was close to the Station, barely a light-second away. The Covenant would be practically . . . there already.
"Sir I'm detecting something at extreme sensor range. Covenant sir, can't tell what class."
O'Connor knew he had to carry out the Cole Protocol.
"Listen up! Go to Combat Alert Alpha! I want these orders relayed to the Orion and Winter Moon, and carried out here! I need a selective purge of all databases! Triple-check to make sure all data has been erased! Activate viral data scavengers, too! Make sure all of it is gone!"
"Aye, aye!" they stammered, scrambling to comply. The purge was according to Cole Protocol, to be sure the Covenant could not get the information they sought. Starcharts and surveys, in particular. The location of the Inner Colonies, and Earth. If they found Earth, humanity wouldn't last but a few days after it fell. And if the Covenant got to Earth, only a miracle could prevent it's destruction.
"Sir, I'm getting a request from the Orion to leave port," the communications officer reported.
"Granted! Get our crew back over here, then blow all connections!" O'Connor barked.
"A request from the Winter Moon as well, sir!"
"What's the status on the repairs!" O'Connor asked. The Ensign typed at a panicked pace.
"Engine refit almost done, engineers report she can run at up to eighty-five percent. One hundred-twenty if you give them two minutes."
"Wait two minutes, then evacuate the engineers and blow dock connections. Give them clearance as soon as that's done! Also, orient the station so the Winter Moon can bring her cannons to bear."
"Yes, sir, already working on it! Any further orders?"
O'Connor knew the Cole Protocol required one last thing of them. It stated: In case of imminent capture by Covenant forces, all UNSC ships MUST self-destruct. He lifted a panel near his controls, and shifted the bar within from SAFE to DETONATE. He put his hand near the small, red button. He stopped, hesitating.
"No, Ensign," he said, hand hovering near the button, "no orders: now we wait."