1240 Hours, November 25, 2542 (Military Calendar) /
Aboard freighter Serenity, en route to colony Whitefall
The entire crew, save Miranda and the Covvie agent, gathered in the galley. They were assembled in a large half circle around the table, each staring intently at the woman before them.
John studied her. Her clothes were disheveled, her hair mussed, and her shoulders slumped. She continuously wrung her hands, her eyes fixed on the floor. She hadn't spoken a word since giving the young girl sedatives and leaving her wrapped in a blanket in the infirmary.
"I am smart," she said slowly, her voice hoarse. "I am very smart. I earned PhDs from both the Pegasi Institute and the Perimeter Institute for Theoretical Physics before graduating at the top of my class from the Covenant Medical Academy." Finally she raised her chin enough to present her face to her audience, though she still avoided eye contact. "I tell you this so that you will understand properly that Joy makes me look like a neanderthal first discovering its opposable thumbs.
"All the words that we come up with for intelligent children – gifted, prodigy, genius . . . none of them even begin to describe her. Eventually, we were informed about a program for people like her. A program that could really test her. That could challenge her." She paused, sighing deeply. "For her, there was no other option. So we sent her."
She fell silent for a time, dropping her gaze back to the floor. "For the first little while she sent letters. Then nothing, for months. When I finally received another message, it was . . . gibberish. It looked barely legible, much less coherent. It took me some time to decipher it, but the message was a code."
John glanced around the room. Avery was leaning forward in his chair, listening intently. Linda and Kelly each had an ear cocked in Cortana's direction. Even Fred, begrudgingly dragged from the infirmary, was enthralled.
"All it said," Cortana continued with a shaky voice, "was 'They're hurting us. Help.'"
The galley fell quiet for several moments as everyone absorbed her tale. "So how did you do it?" Linda finally asked.
"Money," Cortana said with a tired smirk. "Lots of money. And luck. I spent a year trying to track her down with no luck, until finally Maggie put me in touch with an underground movement. A woman who claimed to be a former ONI operative and a team that called themselves Alpha-9. They said that the Covenant was hurting her . . . that they were playing with her brain. And that if I funded their team, they could get her to Meridian in a nondescript cryopod, and that I could take her from there."
"Is she going to be okay?" Kelly asked.
Cortana shook her head. "I don't know," she answered, "I have no idea what they've done to her. I just know that I . . . I can't let them take her. I have to keep her safe."
John couldn't blame her. He even respected her decision. The woman probably gave up her entire life for her sister, and there was no small notion of nobility in that. But there was something he was not so ready to forgive her for – she dragged him and his crew into it.
"Stirring tale of woe, doc," he said, approaching her with his arms crossed defensively over his chest. "Except now you've heaped all of your woe on us. Now we have a Covenant Intelligence Operative tied up in our hold, and a pair of fresh government fugitives wandering about as well. Miranda is in a coma, the Covenant is tailing us, and we have no idea just how much information got out to them."
"So what are you going to do?" Avery asked. He appraised John with stern, thoughtful eyes.
"We finish the job," the captain answered gruffly. "Maggie's still waiting for us. We get to Whitefall, make the deal, and get out."
"What about us?" Cortana asked quietly.
"Miranda pulls through, we drop you with Maggie and never have to cross paths again."
"And if she doesn't?" Avery spoke up again.
John glanced first at the grizzled soldier, then at the soft doctor. "If she doesn't, then I guess we'll just have to forfeit that extra money Maggie promised us for our courier's fee." He turned his scowl from the doctor to the rest of his crew. "There's work needs done before we get to Whitefall," he said slowly, "we'd best be doing it."
The remaining five days to Whitefall crawled by painfully slowly. Serenity was a small ship, which made avoiding the doctor and her sister a difficult process. Luckily for them, Miranda pulled through. There were no unscheduled space walks yet. Not that it didn't take a near-constant guard to make sure Fred didn't put Clarence out in the middle of the night.
Whitefall was a recent colony, largely unheard of by most in the civilized galaxy. A week's travel from anywhere worth being, it was practically forgotten by even the Covenant's great surveillance and control system. When one was building a criminal empire, Whitefall was the perfect staging point.
By the time Linda put the ship down in a desert plain a few kilometers from what passed for the colony's major city, nearly two dozen armed men were waiting for them on the ground. In the several minutes it took for the dust to settle and Serenity's ramp to lower, the makeshift soldiers arranged themselves in a half circle past the foot of the gangplank. Standing in their midst was a wrinkled, frail form. A seemingly harmless old woman, who was truly anything but.
"Maggie," John said, walking down the ramp with open arms. "And here I thought we were past all this unfriendliness."
The old woman crossed her arms over her chest. "You didn't think very hard, then, did you?"
"I try not to make a habit of it," he answered.
"That much is obvious," Maggie said gruffly, though the hint of a smile teased the corner of her mouth. "Now tell me, how is my cargo?"
"Food is packaged and ready to eat. I even brought you something extra – a Covvie agent we found on board."
At that, Maggie grinned. "John, you treat me too well," she said with a glint in her eye that, frankly, frightened John. "What kind of shape is he in?"
"He got a little rowdy," John answered, watching the old woman's response, "Miranda got hurt."
Maggie's head dipped somewhat in disappointment. "Tell me you didn't let Fred at him. I'm not in the market for shredded meat, John."
John let a smirk cross his face. "Don't worry, he's still got enough fingers and toes for you to have your fun," he assured her. "He tried to get out a message over Waypoint but, near as we can tell, nothing important got through." He glanced around them to ensure that no one was close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation. "There's something more pressing for us to talk about, though."
The tiny figure, wrinkled and shrunken by age, neither backed away nor flinched at his proximity. Her eyes roamed into Serenity's hold. "What do you say we allow our people to take care of the transaction while you show me around your ship, John?" she asked, her light tone almost disguising the fact that it was a direct order. "We have a lot to talk about."
Maggie marched into the hangar like she owned the place, leaving John with little else to do but follow along. They stopped briefly in the medbay for her to talk with Miranda before making their way to the bridge, where she confidently slung herself into the captain's chair. "I expect the good doctor's already filled your ears with the story of how she rescued the little one?" she asked, waiting for him to nod before continuing. "It's true. I put her in touch with Buck and Dare myself."
"That's all very touching," John said, leaning on the back of the copilot's couch, "excepting the fact that it's more than likely to get me and mine in a whole slough of trouble. If you say the story's true then I believe you – I even feel for the kid. She seemed a few riders short of a posse if you ask me, but that's no business of mine."
He rose from his leaning position and drew closer to Maggie. "What is my business is that I very nearly avoided having to shoot my way out of a Covenant cruiser because you neglected to give me proper warning about them."
There were nearly 50 centimeters, and more than 80 kilograms, difference between the two, but the old woman didn't so much as bat an eye at his threatening body language. She simply looked up at him through long, gray eyelashes and waited for him to finish. When he did, she sighed heavily.
"You're playing a dangerous game now, John," she said, leaning back in the chair. "You're out of the world you knew. There's no rank out here. No rules of engagement. Your enemy isn't so cut-and-dried anymore. All you've got going for you is this ship and your crew, and that's exactly why I didn't tell you about Cortana and the little one."
John snorted derisively and opened his mouth to speak, but Maggie plowed on ahead. "Those girls don't have anything left. They've been abandoned. I can't keep them safe, not here. Not stationary. But you? You've got the best chance of keeping them out of those freaks' hands."
At that, John did speak. "And what do you think I'm going to do, keep them? Serenity hasn't got the room for a pair of strays, Maggie. Particularly not the kind that brings the Covenant knocking on my door."
"Your people get injured," she fired back. "As I understand it, Miranda would be dead by now if it weren't for Cortana, and I'm told that little Joy's got some tricks up her sleeves that will keep you on your toes."
"And who's going to pay me to ferry them around?" he asked indignantly. "Don't tell me you've gone into charity work now."
Maggie chuckled, shaking her head. "No, I'm not one to do much of anything for free," she said. "Helping Cortana get her sister out was because I owe it to myself to screw with the Covenant wherever possible. As for paying their room and board, the girls will do that themselves. Cortana's a doctor, that alone is enough to keep them along. Not like you aren't used to dodging Covenant patrols anyhow."
Once again John opened his mouth to argue, but he felt himself losing steam. He was never much good in an argument – he preferred to resolve his differences in a more physical way. But that didn't mean that he was willing to put such a big target on his and his team's backs.
He hesitated for a moment, formulating his next argument. Maggie took the opportunity to beat him to the chase. "I didn't want it to come to this, but here goes," she said, almost to herself. "Catherine sent Cortana to me. She got wind of what was being done to that little girl, and Catherine herself insisted that we get her away."
That finally took the last wind from John's sails. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey, arguably the most gifted mind to come out of humanity, was a particular weak spot for the captain. She was the closest thing he – and any of the Spartans – had to a mother. When the Covenant took control of the galaxy, Halsey threw herself into an alliance with them. She sent her only daughter to Serenity for safekeeping, and she bled out whatever information she could that might serve against the Covenant.
If she was adamant that the sisters be protected, there must have been a blasted good reason for it.
John sighed heavily in exasperation and ran a hand over his face. "This is going to come back and bite me," he grumbled quietly.
"Oh, who doesn't like a playful nibble here and there?" Maggie retorted, rising from the seat she had claimed. "It keeps you interested."
A quiet knock sounded at the door.
"Just in time," Maggie said with a sly grin. Without waiting for permission, she swung the door open and ushered two people into the narrow bridge. "Meet your newest crewmembers," she said so casually that John almost forgot to wonder how she managed to call the pair up to the bridge of his own ship without him knowing it.
"I'll let you all get to know each other better," Maggie said with a conspiratorial wink, then turned and disappeared down the gangway.
No one said a word for the half-minute it took for her clanging footsteps to fade out of earshot, and even then several long moments passed in silence before Cortana cleared her throat.
"Thank you," she said, hugging her sister tight against herself. "I promise you won't regret this.
John looked her up and down. She was still dressed in clothing that someone in his line of work would consider exotic at least, and her skin was clean and unblemished in a way that only the affluent coreworlders could truly know, but now she looked different. With not only Maggie's glowing recommendation, but the request from Halsey herself to keep the pair safe, he felt there had to be something he didn't know yet.
It worried him.
"Do your work, earn your keep, and you'll get to stay," he answered. He then looked at Joy, who somehow appeared even smaller than she did before. "Keep your moon-eyed sister out of the way, and we'll get along fine."
If either of them wanted to say anything, he didn't wait to hear it. There was plenty of work to do.
Chamber of the Emperor, Covenant Holy City High Charity
Nervousness was not a feeling to which Supreme Commander Thel 'Vadamee was accustomed. One of the youngest in history to hold such a lofty position, and with a nearly unmatched record, even those older and of higher station than him tended to offer a begrudging respect for his accomplishments.
However, when one was called to meet the head of the galaxy-spanning empire, begrudging respect held very little meaning.
'Vadamee studied the floor. Bowed low as he was, it was all he could see.
The auspicious chamber – known as the Sanctum of the Hierarchs before their vile betrayal – was oppressively silent around him. Built to comfortably hold dozens, the recently dubbed Sanctum of the Emperor felt oppressively silent with but two occupants. The quiet weighed on 'Vadamee's shoulders as much as on his mind, broken only by the echo of the booming steps of the emperor himself: Xytan 'Jar Wattinree.
With a stature that nearly matched the height of Mgalekgolo pairs, Wattinree cut a massive figure on his own. The ceremonial garb with which he adopted following his ascension to the head of the Covenant was enough to make him a giant, an almost unattainable being on his own. Between his physical stature and his mental fortitude, the Emperor was the opposite of the cowardly San'Shyuum who once rested comfortably at the helm of the Covenant empire.
Until they betrayed their most loyal servants. Until their perversion of the faith was discovered. Until the Great Schism, and the inevitable routing of the diminutive worms and their mindless Jiralhanae minions.
"Fleetmaster," the emperor's voice boomed into his rumination. "Undoubtedly you wish to know why you have been called from your fleet."
'Vadamee did not raise his head. "I am your servant, noble emperor. I wish only to know how I might be of service."
To his surprise, the fleetmaster felt a hand fall heavily on his shoulder. "Rise, brother," Wattinree said, warmth in his voice. "I have summoned you here for a mission of grave importance."
'Vadamee rose, and at the beckoned hand walked alongside the emperor.
"The betrayal of the San'Shyuum revealed a weakness in the Covenant," he continued, his tone hardening as he paced around the antechamber. "Our ability to detect treachery within our own ranks has been found wanting. Thousands of noble warriors were lost in a war that should never have occurred."
'Vadamee felt compelled to agree. Even the war against humanity, one-sided as it was, resulted in the destruction of whole fleets worth of vessels and soldiers. Once the "Prophets" made their ill-conceived bid for absolute power and were run out of the Covenant structure, that war was reexamined. The needless eradication of humanity ceased, and they were eventually enveloped in the fold of the empire – as happened with many other species.
The war between the Covenant and the San'Shyuum's meager attempt at a fleet was simply another insult to the great pride of the Covenant. Many had died, and without cause. Had the deception been discovered before, many lives would have been spared.
"As such," the emperor continued, "I learned from our former enemies. Within Humanity's military structure existed an entire division designated specifically for the detection and eradication of such treachery and deception. They refer to it as," he paused, twisting his tongue around the unwieldy human language, "ONI."
He stopped walking and turned to look 'Vadamee in the eye. "We enveloped this division, or as much of it as was possible. In fact, more humans operate in this division than any other."
Thel nodded. He had come to respect the humans for their resilience. It came as no surprise to him that several of them managed to negotiate secure footing within the Covenant military.
"But something has gone wrong," the emperor said, his eyes still staring intently into the fleetmaster's. "Two fugitives have escaped with something extremely valuable to us. Something that could help protect our Covenant from such treachery ever again troubling us."
He fell silent then. 'Vadamee did not shirk from his intense gaze, instead matching it with one of his own. He believed that he knew what the emperor needed of him. "You wish for me to recover them," he said steadily.
Wattinree nodded once. "Indeed," he responded. "I have need of loyal allies, and you have proven yourself amongst your peers. For this mission to succeed, I need to have complete trust in those I send."
The fleetmaster held one hand resolutely against his chest. "I am honored to accept this mission, noble emperor," he said, respectfully bowing his head. "I shall not fail."
"I trust you shall not," the emperor replied, continuing to stare into 'Vadamee's eyes. "We are in the midst of a new dawn of the Covenant empire, Fleetmaster. Together, you and I shall find the true path of the gods." He reached out and clasped 'Vadamee's forearm in a brotherly gesture. "Together, we shall begin the Great Journey."