Liara.
Of course, no one was going to send the Shadow Throne directly into the system where the planet Erinle is located. That would have been a rather suicidal decision. But that doesn't mean we won't observe the process. No, of course, we will gather information. We just sent a small shuttle to the other side as a reconnaissance ship. And we're getting the picture from it.
The battle between the Covenant forces and the Geth ended; an armada of Covenant ships hangs in orbit among a sea of wreckage. A large one, about two thousand ships at a glance. Another group of ships is rapidly disappearing in blue flashes; their number cannot be counted. Joker whistled, looking at these fleets.
"What, have they been playing with us all this time? That's thousands of ships. Two Covenant Supercarriers, supers. How do you even fight this? And are they... bombing the surface?"
Jalim swallowed. Indeed, lined up in a chain of three rows, the ships, judging by the sea of fire behind them, are methodically incinerating the planet's surface.
"I don't know, Joker. I don't know. But this... What made them bring such forces into battle?" the Matron said, shocked and slightly stammering.
The question is clearly for me. After all, the forces at Palaven were orders of magnitude smaller. And at Oma Ker. And in general.
"I have no idea. We knew there were Salarian bases on the planet with tech from the ring. But there's wreckage and other junk there. Nothing that important. Or... did they find something?" I wondered; it was possible. It would be a logical explanation for such activity. "Is there a signal from Tela Vasir?"
I addressed the question through the Quantum Beacon to the scouts in the planet's far orbit. The Asari scout from the shuttle was silent for a while, apparently checking the instruments:
"No signal; her transmitter isn't responding. Connection with the Omni-tool... none. If Tela was there, she's gone now. Possibly she was in the bombardment zone."
I winced.
"Clarify, do you think she was caught in the fire? And the Humans? Their ship was here too; it didn't leave through the Relay, we would have seen the activation."
The Asari sighed.
"No traces. Neither of the Humans nor their ship. Finding wreckage is impossible; there are a bunch of Covenant patrol ships here, and a sea of fire on the planet. In orbit, there's glare from the amount of wreckage. While the Covenant fleet is here, searching is doomed to failure."
I see... The image through the Quantum Beacon is by default a transparent blue hologram to save traffic. And yet such cruelty made me shudder. Only the Reapers did such things. After such a bombardment, the planet will be uninhabitable for many years. Without terraforming—forever. And the fact that not Reapers, but just another sentient race, is behind such monstrous crimes makes one remember the Krogan and Rachni wars, or even worse. Monsters.
"Is the Covenant destroying Erinle?" I clarified with some, albeit empty, hope.
The commando nodded and only answered about ten seconds later.
"The planet is being burned, kilometer by kilometer. A sea of fire remains. What's seen on the cameras is true. It's a tomb."
Even the Reapers didn't act... so destructively. They needed organics, and the Reapers exterminated the population by the millions, tens of millions of sentients per day, but they didn't burn everything. Monstrous.
And then the image suddenly turned white and went to static. I jumped to the device.
"Report! What's happening there?"
The scout, her voice trembling and looking past the screen, replied:
"I. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know what it is!"
Jalim jumped to the transmitter and barked:
"Silence! Get a hold of yourself, you useless doll! Report! Report, you nonentity!"
The Asari flinched but replied:
"Yes, report. It's, it's an explosion. I don't know what it was; the fleet was hanging in orbit, after which a bright flash covered everything, then everything went black, and now a black sun is burning in orbit. I'm not lying, a real black sun!"
"Calm down and continue," Jalim demanded, slightly irritated.
But I see she is very dissatisfied. And agitated. And I can understand her, as I have no idea WHAT can explode like that. The concentration of sentient and understandable things has long gone beyond the bounds of normal. So we just have to gather information and take everything as it is. Because there's simply no strength left for any other reaction. I waved for the Asari on the other side to continue. She had already pulled herself together, but that doesn't make what she said any more rational.
"A huge black sun that swallowed the Covenant ships. A wave of fire is moving across the planet; the wreckage is burning, creating a glowing belt around the black sun. As if someone struck the planet with a flaming fist, leaving a huge crater. So huge, the size of a moon. The moon, it looks like a spiral was carved on it, or something like that. Visible to the naked eye; a lake of magma is forming there. On the planet, too, it seems. I, I don't know what's happening here, really!"
The Asari's voice trembled and faltered slightly, but I need to know; the hologram doesn't convey even half of what's happening. I'll try to turn on the charisma.
"Listen here. You're safe, right? This black sun doesn't reach you?"
She nodded.
"Yes. Our shuttle is quite far from orbit."
Then I answered more harshly.
"Then get a hold of yourself and tell us. What about the explosion? The planet? What about the Covenant fleet?"
The Asari nodded, looking past the screen, and replied, staring into my eyes:
"The black sun went out. The Covenant ships are not visible. There's absolutely nothing visually, not even wreckage, flares, nothing. The instruments are flared out; I can't say anything more. To the eye... the destruction is colossal. The Covenant was burning kilometer by kilometer, but a wall of fire passed over the planet; noticeable flaming rifts opened. As if someone was leaving clearings, like on a tree. The moon was set on fire too. The Covenant fleet is not visible; no movement is visible. Nothing, no signals. Only flashes, orange, green, yellow. I don't know what it is. Erinle... I don't think anyone survived. No. I don't think anyone will live there at all. I, I can fly closer, check..." the scout said in blatant shock, in a halting tone.
"Don't you dare!" Jalim barked, "continue showing from a safe distance. We need to understand what's happening. If you get yourself killed, it won't do any good."
I, meanwhile, pondered. This explosion looks like some kind of weapon. A bomb causing colossal damage. I've heard that such black "flares" happen from gravity fluctuations. Like the "hewn" holes. It seems a certain individual mentioned something like that when talking about a destroyed Relay. We need to inspect the explosion site. These could be distortions or just an effect of extreme power, on principles unknown to us.
The second question is—who did this at all? Does the Covies have such bombs, or is it an experimental development of the same STG or a new toy of the Humans. Effectively, the fleet in orbit is destroyed, life on the planet is terminated, colossal damage to nearby objects. We need to make sure the Covenant fleet is indeed destroyed, but if so... We need to conduct an investigation, understand exactly what happened and how. A camera is installed on the scout; we'll be able to see the decay process in detail. What is this black sun, and how it passed over the planet and the satellite.
"Damage to the planet?" Jalim clarified.
The Asari, having finally pulled herself together, replied:
"It was like a huge fist, lifting a sea of wreckage with one blow. Everything burned. Everything there was just evaporated; the debris field after the fleet battle was such that it was visible from here with the naked eye. And now instead of a field—emptiness. But the instruments are flared out; I can't say more precisely. We'll have to wait."
I nodded.
"Good. We need to conduct an investigation. The situation is clearly unusual. Wait until there's more data."
Whatever it was. I need to know, definitely.
***
Prophet of Truth.
Halo. The sacred ring. One can disbelieve in gods as much as one likes, but now, looking through the screens of High Charity at their colossal creation, one can be sure: divine power is immeasurable. Yes, it's just an advanced disappeared race, but the difference even compared to High Charity is like that between a toy and a masterpiece. The secrets of their power are hidden right here. One only needs to be able to reach them, which is not so simple.
Right now, the immeasurability of divine power is expressed in the fact that the ring, colossal even compared to the capital of The Covenant, is exterminating Covenant fleets with its own defense systems, practically ignoring all protection even of the largest ships. Numerous beams from ground installations crush fleets one after another, withstanding plasma bombardment, fighting the landing force. And Humans were noticed on the surface! These animals, one must assume, are to blame for the fact that we have to fight our way to power. For which more and more forces have to be pulled to the planet and the ring. An opportunity to thin out the disloyal, but in the end, the sacred ring must be captured.
We even had to put the capital's defense into battle, as only such ships can more or less hold damage for any length of time. More less than more, but still. The ring must be retaken. Ultimately, what kind of divine power is it if it lies unguarded and requires no trials of faith, right?
The hiss of doors came from behind. Turning slightly and rotating his own hovering chair about thirty degrees, Truth saw the Sangheili commander. Truth asked:
"Is the information confirmed?"
The Sangheili performed the official greeting and said:
"Yes, Hierarch. Human desecration has been found on the surface, their base, their ships. We burned everything, but it didn't help. The assault continues. The desecration is not fully cleansed, but we will rectify this immediately."
Truth nodded, suppressing irritation.
"The Humans turned on the ring's defense systems and used them against us. But this desecration can be undone. One only needs to make the right decision."
The Sangheili nodded.
"What shall we do, Hierarch? What do the gods say in such a case?"
It's obvious. The defense must be turned off. If the Humans turned it on, they will turn it off. Although the Prophet is sure the commander understands everything, he just remembers who's in charge here. So the known truth simply needs to be voiced.
"Your warriors should capture the Human leaders. If they were able to desecrate the ring with their actions, they can undo the process. We must not damage the sacred Relic more than necessary."
The Elite growled, confirming that he didn't like such a decision.
"But Hierarch, they..."
Truth pointed to the screen, the size of the entire wall, where the battle was reflected. About ten thousand ships, including the largest ones, were storming the ring. Blue beams and swarms of robots launched from its surface. The beams punched through shields and ships right through; the robots cut everything else, overwhelming the warriors numerically. For every Banshee, ten, twenty, fifty robots.
Even the largest ships withstand no more than a shot or two of the blue beam before their shields fall. And then, like the Human ships, the Sangheili on board are forced to hope that the ship will be destroyed slowly enough for the crew to manage to deploy to the surface. Thousands of ships, one ring. And there are no guarantees that they will deal with this quickly. This analogy irritates both the Hierarch himself and, almost certainly, the Sangheili. As it hits their pride. The Prophet said:
"I see this, commander. I see how those faithful to the gods are dying for our common future. And yet, the faster the Humans undo what they have done, the less damage will be sustained. We should not sacrifice warriors more than necessary."
The Sangheili nodded again.
"Of course, Hierarch," although it's clear that death does not frighten him.
Truth sighed, looking at the unfolding battle. A colossal battle. At the current dynamic, success may await them, but the price will be indecently huge. After all, the gods knew how to protect their secrets. And the Humans, demons, try to steal someone else's power. Gesturing for him to approach, the San'Shyuum said:
"It is customary to underestimate Humans, commander. Fragile, weak, soft. And yet there is strength in them. Unholy, heretical, desecrating, but strength. If you had read their own scriptures, you would know that sin is part of their nature. Original sin, literally, they call it that themselves. The gods gave them everything, gave them a home and abundance. They chose greed; it was never enough for them. They were not ready, but they desired more. And unable to stand on the same step as the gods, they began to distort everything they touch. Desecrate.
The Sangheili growled.
"They rejected their own gods?" for a religious society, such heresy is unthinkable.
The Hierarch nodded.
"Exactly so. They did not honor them, denied divine wisdom. For this, they were expelled from their paradise, deprived of happiness. Instead of divine mercy, they received a divine curse, to always be only a shadow, a semblance of the true chosen. Killing Humans is a mercy, an end to their agonizing and inferior existence. And yet Humans in their destruction, their, hm, heresy. They are quite capable in it. Do you understand, commander, that if not for the desecrators, all these deaths before us would not have happened? Their strength was enough to turn the divine ring against us. Like their own devil, incapable of creation, only of desecration."
A growl of rage was a perfectly suitable answer for the Prophet. Now let's see if you've learned the lesson. The commander bowed slightly.
"They will pay, Prophet. We will destroy them," he clearly wanted to say "all of them," but corrected himself, "except those who can fix everything. And then them too."
Well, good. Truth nodded graciously to his subordinate.
"I am glad you understand this, commander. The second task is to send squads to the surface. The sacred records state that there exists a certain Oracle," he showed an image of the gods' round robot, "a guide to The Great Journey. He knows what we need to begin it. We have approached The Great Journey more closely than at any time in our existence. The Covenant is almost ready to know the truth. One should not ignore such omens, indications of the path. And the lesson of the danger emanating from the very existence of Humans."
"I will send the best of the best down," the Sangheili bowed slightly, "we will find the Oracle, tear him from the hands of the desecrators, and bring him here."
And another nod.
"Do it. We need to solve our problems on this ring as quickly as possible. Cleanse and prepare for The Great Journey," and spreading his arms, he added, "salvation for all is coming!"
When the Sangheili left, the San'Shyuum contacted Tartarus. If he hurries, he can outpace them and earn a few more loyalty points. Salvation for all. Ha. He, Truth, will determine who will be saved. And only he! And not the other Hierarchs or upstarts from among the Sangheili at all. Frankly speaking, the frequency with which they perish in this battle only benefits his plans. Many of their commanders will not live to see the necessary moment, which will facilitate the seizure of power.
The ferment among the Sangheili due to the loss of the signal from those ships that were performing the glassing of the Salarian world is increasing. The closer the journey, the more difficult the battles, the greater the losses. And the greater the dissatisfaction of the Sangheili. They look for reasons, look for culprits, and find them. Even the first questions are heard that Humans fight fiercely enough to be accepted into The Covenant. Unthinkable! How much simpler it is with the Jiralhanae.
Perhaps some are not destined to go on The Great Journey. Let them die here. Here and now.
***
Khaela.
Two days of transit to the ring passed in tense preparation. Little information, so both I and Noble Team prepared for the worst. Yes, there are Human forces on the surface of the ring, an ONI expedition. But their base was smashed almost immediately, and there is no more contact with them. Which means we're going in blind. SSV Naglfar, its crew, and us.
"It bothers me a bit that we'll be spat out of Slipspace right at the ring," the Avatar noted, "into the very thick of the problems."
Nyalla shrugged.
"Worried? This battle could become quite destructive, you know."
The Avatar raised an eyebrow.
"Are you serious?"
The redhead nodded.
"Of course. We already know that The Covenant knows what we found. And who, if not you, knows what Forerunner devices are capable of. And what we should expect."
The Avatar countered:
"That's the problem—I don't know. Forerunner technologies are beyond. Humans can do a lot, but what the Forerunners created..." parallel to the text, I was dumping my developments on the ring, based on what I received from Mendicant Bias and the local Monitor.
Nyalla looked at me skeptically.
"And it's assumed that The Covenant will be able to break through this defense. And then activate a galactic weapon of mass destruction."
I nodded.
"The difference in forces is dozens of times, and not in The Covenant's favor. But they can be inventive if they really want to. Like Humans. And the ring for them is a sacred relic. So I would expect anything."
Actually, that's exactly how it was. The stealth frigate SSV Naglfar exited Slipspace in a state of battle alert. It helped approximately not at all.
We found ourselves right in the middle of the battle. Ahead was the ring, firing at everything from all beam installations, rapidly exterminating The Covenant forces. The Covenant forces themselves, with the support of four cylinder-ships, are fighting both the ring and another Covenant fleet. The second Covenant fleet, on the outskirts of which our ship was spat out. Right into a firefight where the chances of survival are approximately zero, as we are so close to the enemy that stealth won't help. We were noticed instantly.
"Evasive maneuver!"
We don't have time to raise shields, and several plasma spheres passed through the point where the frigate had just been; one hit. The alarm system wailed.
"Failure of the second engine block. Fire in engineering," Nyalla reported.
"What the hell is that?" the artil... clarified, stunned.
The rear of the fleet, at a significant distance from the ring, was occupied by a rather large mushroom-shaped structure. It was about three hundred kilometers wide, judging by the cap, and appeared to have been fashioned from a small planetoid. A defense fleet swarmed around it. Projectiles and beams from the Halo that missed the ships flared against the shields of this "mushroom," shattering upon them in plasma bursts. It was weathering the hits, which was a testament to its durability.
"We'll figure it out later. Get us out of here before we're vaporized!" the Captain demanded.
The pilot, maneuvering with secondary thrusters to maintain a rough heading, steered us toward the ring on the surviving half of the main engines. The ring, by the way, was burning. Forested territories had partially burned out and partially melted after the plasma bombardment. Yet, the towers on the surface of the Halo continued to fire; even if some had been destroyed, the defense was holding. There were truly MANY forces here.
The ship shuddered and groaned with a metallic screech; some crew members fell.
"Breach in the technical compartment. Fire, we're losing atmosphere."
The lights flickered out, then the systems rebooted, but the screeching didn't stop. Neither did the damage alerts. An idea!
"Nyalla, send a distress signal to the ring. Reclaimers need assistance."
The humans didn't understand, but the AI nodded.
"Message transmitted. What are we waiting for?"
I looked at the yellow vortex that opened in the middle of the bridge just a second later.
"This. Hello, Splintered Design," I waved to the sphere with the purple "eye" that flew through the portal.
She surveyed us and the ship's status panel before demanding:
"I recommend immediate evacuation through this channel. I am the Monitor of Installation 06, Splintered Design. Reclaimers, I greet you."
The ship convulsed from a new hit, and the pilot reported with a hint of panic:
"Reactor unstable, engines not responding. We're drifting. And we only have half a ship left."
The Captain sighed. He clearly didn't like any of this.
"Nyalla, gather everyone here. Evacuation through this... channel. Immediately! And begin formatting the system according to the Cole Protocol. We're getting you out, but we shouldn't leave the Covies a frigate. They won't have the SSV Naglfar!"
The AI nodded, and the alarm siren wailed.
"Attention. All crew and Geth proceed to the bridge immediately for evacuation. This is not a joke, not a drill, and not Rampancy. Abandon all damage control and report to the bridge immediately. Or exit through the yellow portal vortices if you have them in direct line of sight. This is not a joke and not a drill," the cracking and vibration, which forced even me to hold on, served as confirmation. The lights flickered again, switching to emergency power.
The recording repeated, and the Captain looked at his subordinates.
"Go. Everyone leave the ship. That's an order."
He remained on the bridge, watching as humans jumped and synthetics ran into the yellow vortex, carrying the wounded. The Avatar also remained standing, ready to retrieve our AI when she finished. After Nyalla's nod, she pulled a blue crystal from the console. By this time, only the Captain and I remained on the bridge.
"Are you coming?"
The man sighed.
"A Captain is the last to leave his ship."
I snorted. The power supply finally cut out; the darkness on the bridge was now only held back by our flashlights and the glow of the portal vortex. The ship was now a tomb.
"Only I and Splintered Design are left. She opened portals in the Geth storage, the barracks, and the severed rear section in engineering. The crew is gone. It's time for us too."
We briskly jumped into the portal. The Captain appeared a few seconds later and looked around.
"And where are we?"
The room was quite striking. A technical transition clearly of Forerunner design—wide, high, and brightly lit. Twenty meters wide, eight meters high. The kind you could drag two Pelicans through. But in this corridor stood human equipment crates and very familiar Forerunner equipment containers. A few soldiers stood near the entrance, by a partially open airlock that spanned the entire wall. A mess area was set up here, consisting of crates and rations. Part of the corridor had been turned into a hospital, cordoned off by the same crates, which also served as cots.
Splintered Design answered:
"This is the corridor to the control room. Your expedition, Reclaimer, is holding back enemy assault teams pushing into the complex with the help of Guardians and Sentinels."
The Captain listened. Aside from voices, nothing could be heard. Humans were talking, and Geth with our frigate's markings were stomping down the corridor. With a hiss, massive doors opened on the side opposite the entrance, and other crew members appeared in the room from another identical corridor. A Marine ran up to us.
"Sir? You're alive!"
The man nodded.
"Take me to the commander, son. Calculate the losses. We may have lost the ship, but the battle isn't over. The SSV Naglfar will continue this fight."
The soldier nodded, and we walked into the central chamber of the control room. The big one, with consoles and a hologram of the ring. Now, besides the hologram of the Halo itself, there were markers for fleets of various types. Including one very interesting little ship.
Requesting a zoom, we saw a silhouette resembling a squid. Lone. It hovered for a few seconds, then vanished. The marker showed a transition to FTL. A very fast transition, much faster than the Citadel forces. Several hundred light-years per day, presumably.
The ring itself was also covered in numerous markers. Damage, fires, combat zones. Containment breach zones. It seemed everything was just beginning. If we lose this battle, tomorrow might not come for Humanity.
***
***
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