Finally back from Christmas and got another chapter written at long last. Originally considered making this chapter and the next one a single piece, but I felt like it ended at a good point here, and it might have been a bit too much to have everything in one chapter. (Also wanted to get another update out.)
Big thank you to everyone who's read, favorited, and followed (over 100 people!).
Standard copyright disclaimer: I do not own Halo or any associated media, characters, or settings which are properties of 343 or Bungie. This is a work of fanfiction written purely for entertainment and not for monetary gain.
18 February 2550
System 702-5K5, Edge of UNSC Space
For a split second the outline of the freighter was visible, before it disappeared in a brilliant blue fireball. The expanding plasma lit up the skies for a few seconds more until it cooled to invisibility, leaving behind a rapidly expanding cloud of debris.
The Cheap Money was the closest ship to the explosion, and by far got the worst of it. Nearly a dozen man-sized chunks of metal slammed into the ship, to say nothing of the hundreds of microscopic pieces of shrapnel. The debris mutilated the ship, opening compartments to vacuum and tearing through vital systems. By the time the shock passed, the Cheap Money was venting oxygen and plasma from more than a dozen holes, as the few surviving attitude thrusters frantically tried to keep the ship oriented.
Chac Lon's ship, the Phantom Chance, was a corvette, instead of a converter freighter like the Cheap Money. It was also more than five times as distant from the explosion. Ramac, at the helm, reacted quickly, moving to turn the Phantom Chance to present the smallest cross section to the explosion. As he did, Chac Lon put on his emergency helmet and reached for the oxygen supply connection near his seat. Fitting emergency oxygen systems was a common modification on kig-yar ships; Chac Lon had heard too many stories of kig-yar suffocating after their hulls were breached. The helmet was cumbersome and the rest of his body would still have to deal with vacuum exposure, but it beat dying. The rest of the crew was doing the same as the debris hit.
Mercifully, none of the debris hit the bridge area. But the Phantom Chance was far from unscathed. Alarms blared as the corvette vibrated under numerous impacts. With a sudden jolt, the lights flickered, and more alarms sounded as the Phantom Chance went to backup power. Then, nearly as quickly as it began, it was over.
Pulling off the helmet he'd just put on moments before, Chac Lon looked around the bridge. "All of you still alive?" From the chorus of responses, everyone seemed alright, even the humans. "Now, damage report!"
"Punctures in the hangar and all across the starboard side of the ship." Teth responded, looking at one of the many readouts. "Electrical faults all in the aft part of the ship, half the system shut down."
"Actually dead or just re-cycling? Find out! Right now we're stuck in calm!" Without further instruction, Teth pointed at half a dozen kig-yar, squawked a few words to them, and led them off the bridge.
They returned a few minutes later. "Not as bad as it could be, but it's bad."
"How many dead?" Chac Lon asked.
"Two." Teth responded. Chac Lon hissed angrily. It could be worse. They'd made emergency contact with the Cheap Money but still had no idea how many were still alive on that ship.
"Alright, Teth, what's the damage?"
"Reactors' fine, main drives are fine. Big chunk out debris tore out a bunch of connections and the system shut down hard. Shouldn't have done that but engineers say it'll be back up soon. The real problem is the slipspace drive."
"No." The Phantom Chance was light-years away from any inhabited systems, and they didn't have the option of freezing themselves and hoping for the best like human ships did. A destroyed slipspace drive was a slow death sentence.
"The main core is intact, but some of the connections took shock damage. We have spares, but..."
"How long will it take to replace them?"
"Eight hours, best guess. Couple for actually swapping them, most for calibration and checkout."
"Best get started then." Chac Lon relaxed a bit. This was indeed concerning, but nowhere near as bad as he'd feared. Pirate vessels like his always kept a hefty store of spare parts. Especially when running in uninhabited systems like this one.
He remembered the other ship, and tensed up again. The Cheap Money looked trashed, and he could only pray that Shim Vol was still alive. And the rest of her crew, also. Chac Lon looked back over his shoulder for a moment, then turned to one of the bridge crew. "Are our Phantoms intact?"
"Yes, boss." The kig-yar responded.
"Get them over to the Cheap Money fast as you can. Gods willing some of them are still alive."
After two round trips by a pair of Phantoms, the surviving crew of the Cheap Money was aboard the Phantom Chance. Nearly a third of the ship's crew were killed in the explosion; Chac Lon was relieved to see his friend wasn't among them. Currently, she was very upset about the loss of her ship and crew, and was quite wound up.
Naturally, it hadn't gone well when ONI Lieutenant Junior Grade Tajiko interrupted her ranting to try and tell her that they needed to focus on trying to salvage the mission. Shim put her full knowledge of human profanity to use, and the situation just degenerated after that.
"Of course you care more about that piece of scrap than the mission! Just like every other jackal, just want to fill your belly and see something shiny and nothing matters past that!" Tajiko was clearly upset with Shim Vol's lack of concern about his safety or the mission.
"I chose to help you human, against the rest of my kind. Would you rather I stayed with the Covenant? If I had I might be cleaning your guts off my claws right now." Shim Vol retorted.
Bjornsen leapt into the conversation as Tajiko sputtered for a moment. "Is he wrong? I've seen what your kind is like on a dozen different worlds. Guess you can take the jackal out of the Covenant but you can't take the Covenant out of the jackal." He smiled. "Just remember; ONI has had twenty-five years of practice killing you turkeys."
The argument was suddenly interrupted by the sound of Chac Lon loudly racking the slide on his pistol. "Oceans and skies! All of you! Sit!" He yelled, his finger resting on the trigger as he pointed the gun at the ceiling. The two humans and the T'vaoan stared at him for a second, before slowly settling back into their seats.
Chac Lon turned to Shim Vol, "Shim, remember, these humans have been running from the Covenant, getting their worlds glassed, for years. A lot of it done by kig-yar. So I can see why they're spun up and want to get the job done and get out of here. I think we can play by their rules when we need to."
Then he turned to the pair of ONI agents. "As for you, humans." Chac Lon was practically hissing at this point. "Shim Vol has been working with me for years, and has my full loyalty and trust. Something that is not easily given among kig-yar. She, me, and all the other kig-yar here, have bet their lives on your kind. And need I remind you, this is still my ship. So know your damn place, humans."
The bridge was silent for a moment as everyone processed his outburst. "Are we clear now?" Chac Lon said, now addressing the whole crew. "Fighting a war between humanity and kig-yar here isn't going to fix our slipspace drive or patch the holes in the hull." He laughed grimly. "Besides, our people are already killing each other anyway."
He continued. "So, first priority. Getting the slipspace drive fixed. Teth, you've got anyone and anything you need to get that done. None of the other stuff matters if we don't get that done. Two; salvage what we can off the Cheap Money. Weapons, spare parts ration packs, anything else we can fit on a Phantom. Brak, I'll let you cover that." The other kig-yar nodded, before leaving to gather a team.
"Once that's done..." Chac Lon looked at Bjornsen and the other ONI agents - "How about you humans take a Phantom and go down to talk to whoever podded out of that freighter. I'm sure they'll have something worth listening to."
Agent Bjornsen smiled slightly. "If you're offering a Phantom I'll take it."
"Bear in mind as soon as the drive's repaired I'll pull you out, regardless of whether you've got the guy or not." Chac Lon said. "I'm not playing games if the Covenant shows up to make sure the job got done." The ONI agent nodded in agreement; the Phantom Chance was his only ride out of here, too.
"Speaking of, Krath, what's the status on this ship's weapons?"
"All torpedo launchers intact, one starboard side pulse laser down but looks fixable." Krath, the Phantom Chance's longtime weapons officer, responded. The Ruuhtian was one of the older crewmembers; he'd joined Chac Lon years ago and had served on a Covenant missionary ship beforehand.
Chac Lon headed to the galley to grab a ration pack, deep in thought. There wasn't much he could do to help repair the slipspace drive; he was handy enough, but he'd just be getting in the way of the ones who actually knew what they were doing. He supposed he should see if there were any less critical systems that needed repairing that he could help with without causing too much trouble. Not for the first time, he wished he had a few huragok on hand.
Three hours later, he was in the middle of delivering an armful of snacks to one of the repair crews when Teth sprinted up to him. "Boss, big problem. Sensors just caught a big contact coming in-system. Looks like a Ket-pattern battlecruiser."
Chac Lon froze momentarily. "A battlecruiser! Shit! Is it right here, now?"
"It dropped in a good distance away." Teth responded. "Still going to be close on getting the drive fixed in time."
"Tell the crew to redouble their efforts, and get you and the rest of the officers up to the bridge. We need to plan."
"Shipmaster, we our sensors have detected two enemy ships. One of them certainly matches the signature of the kig-yar heretics. I am detecting slight venting of atmosphere."
"And the other?"
"It appears to be even more severely damaged, and some interference likewise complicates identification. However, from the data, it appears likely that it is also one of the heretic ships."
"Excellent. You are dismissed." Shipmaster Rota 'Yarolee pondered the information the junior officer had given him. If one or both of the heretic ships was damaged, then it looked like their agent had done his job. 'Yarolee made a note to dispatch a Phantom to search for him once the heretics were dealt with. Such service to the Covenant deserved to be rewarded, at the very least by being spared from dying in the vacuum of space.
Unfortunately, their intelligence had not been able to predict exactly where the heretics would be in the system, so the Forceful Voice had dropped out of slipspace some distance away, closer to the central star. If the will of the Forerunners smiled upon them, the heretic ship's slipspace drive would be inoperable.
After a fifth of an hour passed and there was no sign of movement from the heretic ship, 'Yarolee concluded that their drive was in fact, broken. Even the most greedy or stupid of kig-yar would run from a Ket-pattern battlecruiser like his. Perhaps they had not seen his ship yet?
'Yarolee was in the middle of a short prayer when Sago 'Valomai, commander of the Forceful Voice's ground contingent arrived. An accomplished blademaster who had been fighting the humans since the beginning, 'Valomai was also 'Yarolee's cousin. The two were raised in adjacent keeps on Sanghelios, separated only by a few valleys and mountains. 'Valomai respectfully waited for 'Yarolee to finish his devotions before disturbing him.
"Shipmaster, if I may, what are your plans to deal with these heretics?"
"Simple. We will close with them, destroy their ships with our superior weaponry, and recover any survivors for interrogation." 'Yarolee was curious where 'Valomai was going, though he had no problem explaining himself to someone of his stature. (Now, if some random minor questioned him, 'Yarolee might have him flogged for his impertinence.)
"I would request that you allow me and my sangheili to capture their ship. Surely, the Prophets would look favorably on bringing back the heretic alive. And I doubt that a few kig-yar will pose any threat to us."
'Yarolee stopped to think for a moment. Yes, bringing the heretic back to High Charity to be interrogated would be quite appreciated. Even if 'Valomai only brought the head back, they could still put it on display in the gardens of High Charity. Doing this would bring great honor not only to 'Valomai, but 'Yarolee as well.
"You have my permission, blademaster. Go, retrieve the heretic, that he may be interrogated and appropriately punished for his misdeeds. Oh, and if there are any humans? Bring them back as well. It will be helpful to know if there are any other members of our Covenant they have tried to lead astray."
'Valomai bowed his head respectfully. "It shall be done, shipmaster."
Meanwhile, aboard the Phantom Chance, the kig-yar and humans were frantically making their own plans. Crushing a stimulant tablet into a bottle of water and mixing it about, Chac Lon watched as the ONI agents walked back onto the bridge. After the Covenant battlecruiser showed up, he'd called back his Phantoms, even though they were halfway to the moon below.
"Sorry about that, humans. But I can't risk a delay getting out of here getting you all back on board."
Agent Bjornsen shrugged. "Understandable. I just hope you've got a plan for getting us out of this."
"Working on it." In truth, he actually was working on a few ideas, but the situation was desperate. Everything hinged on getting the slipspace drive ready. In the meantime, he'd ordered the helm to position the Phantom Chance behind the edge of the planet's rings. Even if it didn't hide them completely, hopefully the interference from the magnetic particles in the rings would disrupt the battlecruiser's targeting and buy them a few more minutes.
"Kvet, remember that job a couple years back on T'vao where you rigged that Phantom as a drone?" Chac Lon turned to his resident computer expert, who was typing on a console nearby.
"Yeah, I think I remember that. What about it?"
"If I got you on board the Cheap Money could you rig it the same way?"
"I could do it from here." As Shim Vol shot him an angry glare he threw up his hands. "Not my fault your security practices are shit. At least boss here tries to make his stuff a bit difficult to get into."
"I remember that job, you threw that Phantom around pretty hard. As much as it pains me to admit, my ship can't handle that." Shim Vol said. "Her back was completely broken. I'd bet the hull plating is the only thing holding her together at this point.
"But can you still get into the system?" Chac Lon asked, another idea running through his head. "How about the reactor control systems?"
"Sure, boss, just about in there now. You thinking of pulling the same thing that shitter pulled on us?"
"That is the idea." As long as the sangheili in charge of that battlecruiser was stupid enough to drive his ship in close proximity of the wreck. "Hey humans. What are those stealth ships you all have, whatever they're called?" Chac Lon looked over his shoulder at Bjornsen as he asked the question.
"Yeah, what about them?"
"You're absolutely sure there's not one of them hiding out in system, especially not with a couple high-yield fission bombs on board? I got to see how one of them cracked apart that battlecruiser on Concord a couple months back and it'd be nice to have here."
"Sadly, no. I would've asked them for a ride out if there was." Bjornsen smiled. "And you didn't didn't hear this from me, but the mines our ships carry make the bomb on Concord look like a cheap firework."
"It was worth a shot. Helm, get us positioned behind the Cheap Money from the perspective of that battlecruiser. I want to drag it right over the top of her and pop the reactor at point blank range."
"How do you know that will be enough to kill it?" Ramac, at the helm asked as he keyed in a set of coordinates. The warhead that killed the Portent of Storms detonated inside the ship, in-atmosphere. An explosion outside the ship, in vacuum, would be far less effective.
"I don't. But that's why this ship's got eight plasma torpedoes. Shields on that battlecruiser pop, we dump the torps into it and at the very least mission kill it."
"And if that doesn't work?" Ramac asked Chac Lon the question that was on the tip of everyone's tongue.
"We dive for the atmosphere, evade until the drive is back up, climb back into vacuum and run for it."
Everyone on the bridge, Chac Lon included, knew there were dozens of ways the plan could go wrong. Not as though there were many better alternatives out there. The only credible one Chac Lon could think of was going to ground on the moon below and evading the Covenant until the UNSC got worried about their people and sent a checkup. That would be hard enough by themselves, given the freezing cold and unbreathable atmosphere of the moon. But Chac Lon knew a Ket-pattern battlecruiser could carry thousands of soldiers, plus gods knew how many Banshees, Phantoms, Ghosts, and other vehicles. Staying hidden from them for an indefinite period of time would be a fools errand.
The Phantom Chance was virtually motionless now, tucked in underneath the edge of the ring system and doing its best to hide being the hulk of the Cheap Money. The Covenant battlecruiser ambled towards them, seemingly not too worried about killing them in a hurry. Whoever was in charge of that ship was clearly supremely confident that the kig-yar and humans weren't going anywhere anytime soon. Unfortunately, that was still true, for the moment. Teth reported that they were starting to get into the process of recalibrating the slipspace drive to account for the replacement parts, but that would still take hours. And not even the most foolhardy kig-yar would risk doing a rush job on that; every kig-yar pirate knew the stories of ships exploding in a flash of radiation, entering slipspace and never reappearing. Some of the stories, the ones told only in dark rooms or when drunk, were even more horrifying.
The brief respite was interrupted when new contacts appeared on the sensors. Small ones, on the same vector as the incoming battlecruiser, but much closer. Chac Lon strode over to the sensor technician's chair and looked over his shoulder.
"Computer has them classified as eight Phantoms and eight Seraphs, boss. Must have come from that battlecruiser." The display showed the dropships organized into two clusters of four, with the Seraphs in a loose ring ahead of them.
"Boarding parties?" Chac Lon looked at Shim Vol, getting a nod of agreement from her, then cocked his head at Agent Bjornsen. The human agreed as well. "Most likely. They'll want to capture you and pump you for information."
"I'd rather they just got it over with and killed me." Chac Lon hissed. The Covenant was not known to be merciful to heretics or traitors. Dying in an exploding starship wasn't a great way to go, but at least it was quick. "Those Phantoms are full of sangheili, probably spec-ops, rangers, and maybe a zealot and a couple mgalekgolo if we're lucky. Those Seraphs will take out our guns, then the Phantoms will come right into the hangar. Even setting up an ambush, I don't like our odds against more than a hundred sangheili. Krath, when they get in range, hit those Phantoms with everything. Ignore the Seraphs."
"Got it, boss." Even if the Seraphs tore up the outside of the Phantom Chance, knocking down eight ships full of sangheili to one or two would make the odds a lot more even. Although...
Chac Lon looked at the incoming Phantoms, their velocity vectors plotted on the screen in front of him. "Could you extend their current flight paths through our position?" He asked the technician at the screen.
"Sure thing, boss." The lines on the screen extended to near the Phantom Chance's current position. And passed within meters of the Cheap Money.
Bjornsen had made his way over, and was now smiling ear to ear. "I don't think those Phantoms are nearly as sturdy as that battlecruiser." Chac Lon just smiled back. "Kvet, you have the reactor on Cheap Money ready to go? Might need it a bit early."
"Just give me a countdown and I'll make the fireworks."
"Copy, not just yet." Chac Lon lowered his voice, thinking out loud. "How do I get the most of you assholes?" The incoming Phantoms and Seraphs were spread out enough that the explosion probably wouldn't fry all of them. Did he fire it early, get the Seraphs and leave some of the Phantoms, or wait for the Phantoms and leave a few of the Seraphs untouched?
In a second, he decided. The Phantoms were a higher priority, easily. Aside from its slipspace drive, the Phantom Chance was basically intact. They'd dealt with Covenant fighters before; usually Banshees and older surplus stuff, but even Seraphs a few times. Eight at once would be dicey but doable. The Phantoms, on the other hand, were full of sangheili, likely highly trained special operations troops. Chac Lon's kig-yar were experienced and knew how to handle themselves, but they weren't that good. If even half, no, a third of the sangheili made it into the hangar the Phantom Chance would be lost. Hell, even taking down a single file's worth would almost certainly come at a grievous cost.
Not to mention, eight Seraph pilots would be a lot easier to replace than more than a hundred spec-ops with years of experience. Even if they still ended up dying to the Covenant today, might as well make them bleed for it.
The contacts continued their march across the screen, getting closer to the Phantom Chance. Now, the first of the Seraphs were passing the Cheap Money, paying no mind to the almost derelict freighter. The bridge of the Phantom Chance was silent as they watched the Covenant vessels continuing to approach. With a slight vibration and barely audible hum, the pulse lasers on the corvette powered on, turning to track the incoming Seraphs but holding their fire for now. As they did, the helm put the Phantom Chance into a slow spin, rotating to expose the largest complement of its weapons to the incoming fighters.
Another thirty seconds passed. The first of the Phantoms was now past the Cheap Money. One of them broke off from the formation, slowing and looping back toward the freighter. It headed for one of the cargo holds that had been torn open by the explosion earlier, clearly intending on making sure the freighter was cleared of heretics as well. Luckily, it was empty. And at the pace the rest of the Phantoms were going, the reactor would be detonated long before the Covenant made it inside.
All seven of the remaining Phantoms continued their approach. The lead elements were continuing and would soon be moving outside the blast radius. Chac Lon decided; it was time.
"Starting the countdown. Six, five, four -" Everyone tensed, watching the flight paths of the incoming Phantoms and Seraphs. "three, two, one, now!" Chac Lon jabbed his hand for emphasis, as Kvet calmed tapped a button on the console. A second and a half later, the Cheap Money disappeared in a colossal fireball. One enterprising kig-yar put an external camera feed on a main screen, and Chac Lon heard one of the humans whistle appreciatively as a gigantic sphere of purple plasma expanded, gradually fading as it cooled.
After a few seconds, the pulse of radiation from the explosion faded, and the sensor picture cleared. Six of the Seraphs were still intact; they were slowing to a halt, obviously trying to decide how to deal with what had just happened. Not a single Phantom could be found.