The human ships froze in a single group opposite the Mass Relay. Modules on top of the hulls, ready to start on command. But first—reconnaissance; flying into the unknown is not our method. Ajax reported:
"Scout in position. Image coming up now."
So, the first stage. And no, this is not the system where the meeting between the Batarians and the Covenant will take place. And it's not on the other side of the Mass Relay either. There is such a stage of the plan too, but it will come later.
First, we will exit into the system where the Mass Relay paired with the required one is located. Usually, this isn't mentioned, but travel through several Mass Relays also involves travel from one pair to another. Even in the case of a secondary Mass Relay, there is a range limit, and then you either need to use the same Mass Relay for a jump to new coordinates or a new one located nearby. Near Earth, there was just such a distribution station. Now there is no station, no Mass Relays, no system. Everything was ground into cosmic dust.
And we intend to intercept the Batarian delegation precisely at such a transition, at a refueling station, after which our suicide ships will go to the meeting with the Covenant, launch nuclear missiles, and be destroyed. That is the general plan.
"We have a picture."
On it, Batarian ships have gathered near a refueling station: a white platform with fuel tanks attached. Everything is as expected.
"Has the scout been detected?" the Vice Admiral asked.
"No reaction," the ship's AI reported.
The Vice Admiral allowed herself a smile.
"Excellent. Begin. Formation—forward."
The ships disappeared in a single group in a blue flash opposite the sparkling fork of the Mass Relay.
I suppose when our cruisers tumbled out of the Mass Relay on the other side into the group of ships gathered at the refueling station, the delegation experienced culture shock. Everyone knows that large human ships don't fly through Mass Relays, right? And here, on top of the ship, there's also something resembling a large insect. A breakdown of the perception template is guaranteed. Exactly what we need.
Our ships jumped out of the Mass Relay, after which they successfully undocked from the modules, moving forward and lining up in three lines one above the other. Destroyers-cruisers-destroyers. The modules positioned themselves behind the formation at a safe distance, moving higher, and the ships closed themselves with liquid shields. All this was done unhurriedly, approaching the enemy in a single formation. The formation was loose enough to allow for evasion if necessary.
The Batarians, while we were rearranging, did the same, rearranging into a defensive order. Three cruisers, six destroyers, and frigates.
"Two minutes until we are in range."
"Systems ready. Lock—confirmed."
"All systems normal. Shields active. We are ready," Ajax reported.
The Vice Admiral nodded, looking at the holograms of the ships with indications of vectors, speeds, and target types.
"Fire MACs at the cruisers. For the small fry, the Jupiters will use their turrets. Shoot down strike craft with the PKO system. Every shot—a shift. Flower formation, asynchronously. Execute."
The first shots from both sides occurred simultaneously. After all, Citadel cruisers have a shorter effective range than dreadnoughts. Tungsten slugs bloomed in succession on the shields, causing ripples on the water with dense fire.
The MAC fires slower but more impressively. One of the slugs ripped open the refueling station lengthwise, leaving a trail of fuel through space that flared up upon depressurization. The cruisers began evading, rearranging for the next attack and shifting to the side, causing numerous flashes to pass by.
"They aren't saving ammunition at all," the captain chuckled, "their problem. Volley!"
The first cruiser was ripped from bow to stern, its hull peeled open like a rose, leaving a trail of burning fuel and oxygen behind the projectile. For the second, a three-hundred-ton railgun slug only tore through the hull, leaving a brightly glowing clearing spewing atmosphere and clearly causing the reactor to go haywire, making the ship catch fire from within like a torch. The third... Well, its explosion damaged two more destroyers and a frigate that couldn't evade the hull fragments. Citadel classification, not ours, of course.
"Hm, the gunners did well," Ajax's hologram smirked, "knocked out six out of three with the first volley. Although not all are destroyed, that is resolvable."
The captain nodded.
"Excellent, continue at the same pace. Fire when ready."
But the turret armament on the sides of the Jupiters had more modest results—only three out of six targets hit. Although it was enough for the enemy ships. Hulls? Yes. Armor? Well, probably. And this was with the main caliber turned back so the energy weapon turrets wouldn't be damaged through the firing ports. After all, the Jupiters were built against the Covenant; for Citadel cruisers (the size of a frigate), their power is simply excessive.
The Batarians, having lost all their heavy and a third of their medium fleet in about four seconds, frankly scattered. It might have worked, but turret weapons and missiles are our everything. And human ships have MANY missiles, hundreds. So after nine minutes, it was all over for the Batarians. Their delegation was scattered across cosmic space. Against the backdrop of the debris, fuel from the refueling station drifted in a bizarre pattern. The captain reported over the comms:
"All targets destroyed, Vice Admiral. Damage is minimal; we will be ready to continue the mission within an hour."
Parangosky nodded, satisfied with the result.
"Good. Ensure no evidence of our presence remains. It's not worth our neighbors knowing about our capabilities too early. I believe a neutron charge will be a reliable solution for concealment."
An hour later, leaving only radioactive debris with burned-out el...
With the electronics neutralized, the strike group moved forward. The ships lined up opposite the required mass relay and entered it in the specified order: the scout, the suicide-trophies, and the regular fleet.
"Khaela?"
The hologram immediately rose from the Vice Admiral's pedestal.
"Your orders?"
Parangosky tapped her finger on the desk.
"Ensure the torpedo is ready. We are entering a blind zone. If the objective is not met, or if the Covenant brings in significant forces, blow the mass relay. In one specific case, Khaela: if I am incapacitated and unable to give such an order. Only then. The Covenant must not obtain the main battery of the UNSC Apollo. That weapon may not have destroyed the target, but it pierced the shield and armor of a supercarrier with a single hit. The secret must be preserved, even at the cost of our lives. Accept the protocols for the event of my death; you will pass them to my successor. You will support him and watch over him. I have also included temporary protocols in the package for that scenario. If I survive, they will not be relevant. If not, protect humanity. Including from my successor, if necessary."
The hologram looked at the ceiling and spoke.
"I suppose I would still attempt to get you out in that case; you are sufficiently competent for this position. Files received. Ultimately, you could have remained absent and commanded the operation remotely."
Parangosky gave a crooked smirk.
"Curious concern for your fellow man coming from you," the woman raised a hand, "no need, I know there isn't a gram of sentimentality here, only concern for your own plans and aspirations, your own functioning and legacy. Thanks to Dr. Catherine Halsey's work, I have studied your algorithms. You. Do you know that for the work of your social module, many would consider you a hypocrite? A curious program that formed the basis of Project Electric Heart."
The hologram shrugged.
"It is of no consequence to me. And the social module is currently inactive."
Parangosky laughed.
"I have no doubt you are lying. You are all of these modules. In the end, we are all intelligence here. Masks are our way of life," the woman leaned forward and said sternly, "you suit me, otherwise you wouldn't be here. Accept the access code; send the The Possessed to the main gun. You know what to do—critical overdrive, for the absolute worst-case scenario. Ajax will assist if necessary."
"It will be done," the hologram bowed slightly, "anything else?"
She waved it off.
"No, that is all. Get to work."
"Disconnecting."
So, we were finished here; The Possessed had headed for the gun. Now all that remained was to wait.
Then the data came in from the scout. A new system, where five Covenant cruisers and a carrier were visible in orbit. As the scout showed in the three minutes before it was shot down.
"There is no blockade at the mass relay; no need to launch nuclear warheads. Prepare for battle. Time to arrival?"
The steady beep of alarm systems sounded; the crew took their stations.
"Decoy ships in ten minutes, us in twenty-five."
The Captain nodded, adjusting his cap.
"Excellent. Let's see who gets whom this time. I've even washed my neck for the occasion."
***
The mass relay in one of the uninhabited systems stirred into motion, spitting out human ships. Ahead, the wreckage of both decoys was found, and judging by the radiation trail and debris around them, the ships had fulfilled their task. Currently, the Covenant carrier and its escort hung at a distance of twenty thousand kilometers while their strike craft inspected the battle site. They would find nothing; everything extra had been erased in advance.
"Everyone, ready! Shields up! Pump plasma to the main gun! MAC—to battle! Launch strike craft! Prepare to repel an air raid on vectors two-three, two-one, ten-two, ten-ten. Prepare charges. Missiles—lock on Covenant strike craft. Fire when ready!"
The guns glowed slightly, pumping energy, while the ships were enveloped in a silvery dome, against which blue flashes immediately began to break, slowing the formation of the shield dome. And beneath the hulls of the Covenant ships, purple energy fluctuations appeared. Torpedoes.
"Main gun ready! Target locked! Cooling in the green zone."
"MAC charged and ready. Target locked."
The Captain nodded and ordered:
"Beam weapons—fire!"
Beams traced through space, connecting the ships from both sides. The UNSC Apollo's shot pierced the carrier's shield, but the ship jerked sharply to the side, and only a shallow scorched channel along the upper part of the hull spoke of the shot.
"Well, it seems we overpraised them," The Possessed said thoughtfully, standing near the gun mechanism.
There was no need to switch it to decay mode yet, but those were the orders, and that is why I am here. One command, the necessary sequence of orders, and the gun will begin to fire almost without reloading, for as long as the energy lasts until the mechanism completely melts. This cannot be done without the correct sequence, but I already executed this order for some turrets back on the Boundless Will. The process is one-way, which is why it hasn't been mentioned until now, although the Jupiter-class main batteries have such a fire mode.
Two Jupiter-class ships also fired, but their weapons were weaker, so the beams only spread across the Covenant ships' shields, draining them. Both MAC barrels of these ships also spat out slugs. The Dominion-class hit with both shots; the Covenant shields flared but held. Better already. But the UNSC Longinus fired more successfully; in a flash, the shield of one of the Covies' ships went out. The destroyers fired, attacking the shieldless enemy, and the bow of the cruiser, shredded into rags, separated from the stern under the flashes of internal explosions.
"Target destroyed. Continue."
Immediately, the Covenant strike craft raid reached us, and a battle boiled around the ships, crisscrossed by tracers, lasers, and plasma flashes. Plasma also flared on the silver shields, and clouds of vapor appeared. But for now, the shields were holding. The destroyers stayed slightly behind, covering the large ships with their own point-defense systems and sniping the enemy with MACs.
"Torpedoes!"
Purple spheres streaked toward the human ships.
"Evasive maneuver on command. Everyone, prepare for a burn!"
Purple plasma spheres are a powerful weapon. Better not to take them on the shields; better to evade.
"Now!"
The ships lurched, shifting sideways out of the firing lines and slightly warping the shield contours. The plasma began to change course following the target, but even this was enough for half the volley to pass by. Three spheres flew through the formation, but three flared on the destroyers' shields, leaving ugly holes in the liquid. The hulls were scorched, but nothing more. A second hit would be fatal.
"Three destroyers reporting—shields breached, no damage. Continuing the fight."
But the Covenant strike craft took advantage of this, trying to break through the laser screen. When the fire density decreased, it could be seen that two of the three destroyers had melted craters on their armor and holes in the hull in a couple of places. Unpleasant, but we were still alive.
"Volley!"
The UNSC Apollo's second shot cut off a piece of the carrier's stern, causing it to spin around its axis, but it was still combat-capable. But the Dominion-class was failing somehow. A second volley, and it had only stripped the shields off its own target. Meanwhile, the UNSC Longinus, with its second volley (two MACs plus an energy weapon against the shield) and destroyer support, had already destroyed a second Covie cruiser.
"Covenant micro-jump! On us! They're prepping torpedoes!"
The remaining three cruisers that were still mobile used a micro-jump through slipspace to close the distance, bringing the fight into close quarters and glowing purple. And they timed the moment when the energy gun would be discharged. Why is this important? During torpedo preparation, a section of the shield is deactivated. And something tells me...
"They'll hit the UNSC Apollo," the avatar suggested.
The maneuvering thrusters kicked in. The Jupiter-class ships immediately jerked their bows up so the turrets could turn faster and strike.
"Two destroyers critically damaged. Withdrawing from the fight."
A flash and the disappearance of one of the markers was immediately confirmed:
"One destroyed. Second critically damaged. Evacuation and scuttling preparation underway."
Preparing a plasma torpedo is a rather beautiful process. Under the hull of a Covenant ship, on the "plate," a huge volume of plasma gathers, charges, and compresses into a stable, guided structure. The preparation of this shot is the moment of the ship's greatest vulnerability. Damage the structure, and at best, the ship's hull—unprotected by shields—will be scorched. At worst, the armor will melt. If that fails, evading at such a distance is impossible. It will pierce the shields, and the cruisers will begin to pour plasma into the ship through the hole in the liquid. And the UNSC Apollo has no MAC; it was dismantled for the sake of the main battery.
The two triple-gun turrets of both Jupiter-class ships spat out rounds almost point-blank from the bottom up. The first Covenant cruiser flared from such a hit as unstable plasma began to spread over the hull, turning the ship into a torch and flowing through the shell holes into the hull. Not destroyed, but temporarily out of action. The second also took damage; lightning began to dance, and several plasma streams began to dissipate in the air, but no explosion occurred. And then both purple spheres, point-blank from a distance of one kilometer, struck the UNSC Apollo.
"Brace for impact!"
The first, in a bright flash, evaporated the shield, exposing the ship's hull. The second bit into the armor, under the turret. Alarm systems wailed; the jolt was so violent that people fell like broken bowling pins, and even the Spartans and those who were secured felt ill. A screeching sound echoed; Ajax spoke from the ceiling about decompressions, fires, detonations, and breaches in compartments. But we were still alive.
I shifted my attention to The Possessed, who was also picking herself up from the floor. The gun control compartment was deformed, the technicians were wounded to varying degrees, and my tailed carcass had a crushed right limb. One of the technicians tried to help, but I only pushed him away.
"The arm is artificial; I'll live. Help those who need it more."
A screeching sound came from a pipe running along the ceiling; gas hissed out until the automation shut it off. The man, waiting for the sounds to stop, stood up.
"Understood," and he went to his wounded neighbor who needed help.
The compartment itself was badly bent in three dimensions and heated; it was over fifty degrees in here now, only oxygen masks were saving us. The consoles were damaged and some had gone dark; lighting was emergency only; the floor was arched at a seventeen-degree angle. But we were still alive. Apparently, the torpedo wasn't at full charge, although the neighboring compartments had left us. And some of the engineers hadn't survived the impact. Unpleasant, but it happens.
However, the Covenant ships immediately focused their fire on the damaged area, and the alarm signals became much more frequent, the ship shuddering from every hit. At this rate, the ship might break apart.
"Roll the hull to the right!"
The ship began to rotate around its axis, but it didn't help much. The warning system beeped. And damage reports came in from the crew.
"Point-defense cooling damaged. Efficiency reduced."
"Decompression in compartments seven through fifteen, decks five through eleven."
And so on. It seemed the Covenant forces had decided to focus fire on the UNSC Apollo, and the ship was rapidly taking damage. The next explosion went off very close.
"Hangars two through four destroyed! Main engine unstable. Reactor damaged and unstable. Shutdown attempt. Failed."
Now that was bad. Heat was pouring into the technical zone, melting cooling systems and killing technicians who weren't in exoskeletons.
"Another destroyer lost."
The flash passed us by somehow, as the two remaining cruisers and the half-carrier were trying to finish what they could. No longer with torpedoes, just with cannons and plasma. And strike craft raids, of course.
"Boarding parties detected. Enemy is pushing for the main gun."
The Covenant had managed to dock several Spirits to the hull.
The Captain turned to me.
"Protect the Vice Admiral," and then to Ajax, "Captain's order: Spartans—defend the ship."
We all broke into a run to execute the order. Soldiers were preparing for counter-boarding, rolling out cover, lowering shutters with firing slits, taking positions. They looked at the avatar, but asked no questions; I had no time to show off anyway.
Gunfire erupted ahead, and I shifted the hammer into a striking position with my tails. All systems normal. Entering the fray.
Around the corner, having built a barricade out of shelving, three soldiers were trading fire with an Elite and five Grunts. A soldier threw a grenade; I vaulted over the barricade after it. In mid-air, I dodged the blue-glowing orb of a return Plasma Grenade, went into a slide, and opened fire with the carbine at the small ones. An explosion; the Grunts were scattered; the Elite was slightly stunned but hadn't even lost his shield. He lunged at me, swinging his Plasma Rifle like a club.
But a flared shield is no problem; a double-tap to the body and a headbutt with the helmet into the snout; the Elite was stripped of his shield and shaking his head, only to receive a burst from an assault rifle to the face. Excellent, forward. Behind me remained the wrecked barricade and two soldiers.
"Attention! Multiple decompressions on the starboard side. Begin evacuation. Prepare to abandon ship."
The UNSC Apollo shuddered violently, confirming the AI's words. Gravity cut out for a couple of seconds, forcing a switch to magnetic boots. The lights began to flicker.
An Elite with an Energy Sword jumped out from around the corner, and I had to brake urgently, dodging to the side under the xeno's laughter. The golden one took the burst on his shield and didn't even flinch. Fine then; shifting back, I took the hammer in my hands.
"No chance; today only you die."
The Elite growled and charged forward. I swung the hammer from top to bottom, which the Elite easily dodged... and flew into the wall when I released the impulse. I bent the floor, but I don't think that matters anymore.
"All personnel. Proceed immediately to evacuation points. Starboard side damaged; stern compartments and hull bottom are failing; proceed to pods and hangars on the port side."
While the avatar was running, The Possessed, like the other technicians, put on a flak vest and armed herself with a Magnum in her working hand. We made a barricade out of containers, and as soon as Jackals with shields ran out from around the corner, we opened fire on them, watching as the hits ricocheted off the shields. The Jackals also took cover, pressed to the floor, and were blasting roughly in our direction with Plasma Pistols. Well, The Possessed doesn't necessarily have to miss, so I opened fire on the weapons. One Jackal hid behind his shield with a hiss; the second's Plasma Pistol exploded, making its owner, burning and screeching, an easy target. The second retreated in panic and also took several bullets to the back.
"Great job, people. Now get out of here."
A female technician looked on suspiciously.
"And you?"
I waved her off.
"I have a mission. The gun must not fall to the Covenant. It's time for you to go, people. Move your tails."
The technicians looked at each other, and all five stayed behind the barricade.
"We will fulfill the order."
I looked at the ceiling in irritation.
"That is my order. And you need to survive. All of you. Get rolling while there are pods left."
The man who had previously offered help countered.
"Everyone is equal in a trench. So, we're staying."
"You might blow up. The reactor is going critical."
"We've already decided, so shut up and aim," they growled at The Possessed, and she shrugged.
Fine, to hell with you. While we held the defense at the main gun, the avatar continued to run through the ship, hacking through the Covenant. Many compartment hatches were lowered, and the previously direct route of a couple hundred meters had become much longer, more difficult, and slower.
Near the Vice Admiral's office, four dead soldiers, two Elites, a Brute, and five Grunts were found—all dead. The Vice Admiral, with three soldiers, in a flak vest and helmet and holding a pistol, looked at the avatar and nodded.
"You're on time. Is the gun under control?"
I nodded.
"Affirmative. Four technicians and The Possessed are holding the defense."
"That's good," the Vice Admiral agreed, "Because we've lost the bridge. A direct hit; there's a crater there now, I imagine. The ship is falling apart; Ajax is silent. Connect to the system; loop the evacuation message. And begin the gun's overdrive. The reactor is also lost; it's melting down."
The ship jolted so hard the hull screeched, and the lights went out for a few seconds. I executed the order, and the recording began to play over the PA system.
"Attention crew. Immediate evacuation. Immediate evacuation according to plan! Starboard side destroyed; pods and Pelicans only on the port side."
And as the avatar, I asked:
"Perform server wipe?"
Parangosky, looking around and trying to keep her composure although she had taken a hard hit, said:
"Format it. And let's get out of here. We'll watch the explosion from another point. Under recording. Execute the Cole Protocol for the cruiser UNSC Apollo. Order given by ONI Vice Admiral Margaret Orlenda Parangosky, ship time 14:31. August 26, 2541."
"Accepted. Executing. We can leave; I've left a virus in the network."
And we headed for the technical tunnel, as the main one was blocked on both sides by black rectangular pressure doors. Amidst the scarlet lamps of the emergency lighting.
***
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