Chapter 9 – The Covenant
Deployment +170 Hours:35 Minutes:05 Seconds (First Lieutenant Banga Mission Clock)/
CMA Argo, Harvest Colony, nearby asteroid field
"How did you get away?" Brahm asked as the man shoveled food into his mouth.
"I didn't. I'm stuck here, hiding like you in the asteroid field. They attacked as soon as I arrived here. So I hid here, until help would come." He immediately went back to consuming as much food as he could, as fast as he could.
"Where'd you come from?"
"From Reach."
"We came from Reach too. We're on a scouting mission. We heard that contact was lost, so they sent us. It's a good thing you sent a warning. I don't know if the boss will like it, but we can wait here until reinforcements arrive."
"No dice. We have to leave now. We are outgunned and outmatched. You have no idea."
"What makes you say that? There's only one ship. It's got some advanced weapons, sure, but it couldn't possibly be any match for a destroyer or cruiser. Heck, they're probably already on the way."
"No, they're not. I told them everything I could about how the Covenant works. I saw the whole thing from right here in the asteroid field. I saw everything… They murdered the place, bombarded every square mile with some sort of high-impact energy weaponry. I watched as frigates and corvettes tried to take it down. They were a joke to it. It has some sort of energy shielding that we can't touch."
"But a destroyer group from Reach?"
"Won't happen. Not unless they send at least five of them. Maybe they could take it down then, but there's no telling how strong their shields are."
"So what do you do for a living?" Brahm asked, switching to a careless tone.
"Uh…I'm a civilian contractor with the government."
"Ah. 'Cause you look more like a soldier."
"I used to be in. Got out."
"What outfit?"
"376th out of Jericho VIII."
"Hey, small world! I got a Brother in there! Who was your platoon commander?"
"What is this, twenty questions?"
"Sorry, man. Just tryin' to make conversation."
He watched as the man ate his meal efficiently and feverishly, his posture like that of a flagpole pole—perfectly upright.
"My name is John, by the way," he added as he extended a hand.
"My name is Al. Alvin, but you can call me Al for short."
Brahm reverted his tone back to serious. "So how did you get inside that old, rusted out fighter-craft?"
"It was the only thing the company had at the time."
"So what sort of business takes you from Reach to Harvest in a stealth-fighter?"
"Can't I just eat and answer questions later?"
"No problem, man. I'll be in the bridge of you need anything."
The intercom crackled. "Brahm, get to your console! We've got company!"
Brahm ran, skipped, hopped, and shuffled over precarious walkways and ladders to his station. He took a peek into the scopes. "Five new contacts!" He looked once more. "Holy shit," he said to himself. "They brought the cavalry."
"Make sure you monitor their courses. We may have to jump very soon. And where the hell is that one that was in orbit?"
"Gone. Out of view."
Banga was elated at the fact that the first ship was behind the planet, but now there were five more out there. He couldn't risk the jump. Not now. He'd have to hide a bit longer.
Al ran from the galley to the bridge. "More company?".
"Lots…We need to break contact with your ship if we're going to maneuver out here."
"Okay…Wait!"
"Make it quick," Banga demanded.
"Before we let it go, we may have some use for it."
"I'm listening."
"We can lure the Covenant away from us. Then we can jump free and clear."
"And how do you suppose we do that?"
"Look at your ship. It's stealth. We can make it. We send out my ship as a lure. They bite; we run."
"It could work," said Brahm through the comm.
"But they'll destroy it in a heartbeat," Banga added.
"Maybe it's time you show your men how good of a pilot you really are," Al said with a glimmer in his eye. "Remote-pilot it. Dodge their weapons for as long as possible while we jump."
"Why would they even care about the Prometheus?"
"They cared about the Argo, didn't they?"
"Hmm," Banga mulled the prospect over with his hand rubbing his chin.
"Sir," the civilian said. "They fight like animals—ferocious and unyielding. They'll engage anything. They aren't afraid. Send it out and we can jump. It's the only way now."
Banga didn't take his eyes off the civilian, Al, as he queued the intercom. "Pryor, get the Prometheus off our back. Rig it up for remote-pilot. And Dufraine, help him get the NOVA into it."