by Peter David
Vale was seated on the floor, going over notes that she had made on her datapad.
“That must have been quite some trove of language you translated when you were a child, to be so knowledgeable,” he said to her.
She shrugged. “I have no idea how much. Thousands upon thousands of words, I suppose.”
“That is quite exceptional.”
“Perhaps,” she said, and then gave him a peculiar look. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ve never seen you sit.”
“There is no purpose to sitting,” said Usze. “All it does is contribute to a lack of preparedness should any difficulty present itself.”
“You mean you’re anticipating that you may have to be in a fight at any time and you want to be ready for it?”
“Always.” He noticed she was making some sort of human sound. “What is that noise you’re making?”
“It’s called ‘chuckling.’ ”
“Is that a variation on human laughter?”
“It is, yes.”
Usze’s mandibles winced momentarily in an expression of disgust.
Vale was able somehow to discern that. “Not much for laughing, are you?”
“Human laughter is ridiculous,” he replied. “The expression that humans have when they laugh makes them seem frightened or threatened.”
“To you, maybe. Not to us. However, if you prefer, I will do my very best to smother any tendency to laugh.”
“That would be appreciated.”
The Huragok abruptly floated up to her. This in itself was rather surprising. Aside from the few times that it had actually communicated to her, the Engineer had been perfectly content to ignore her in the same way it did everyone and everything else that didn’t require repair. Now, though, it was heading straight for Vale.
Usze was slightly alarmed, in that the Huragok was going to the human rather than the Sangheili, as it did with the doctor earlier. Such a development would have driven hardline Covenant zealots to utter madness not very long ago. Usze had no idea how the Huragok formed bonds with individuals, but now this one was clearly headed to Vale for some reason.
Its tentacles were moving in specific patterns and it was whistling at her as well, in what could be construed as borderline excitement. “It says that the installation . . . is fixed,” said Usze in mild surprise, the communications device serving to translate the Huragok for him.
Vale immediately rose to her feet. “Wow. Okay, then. There’s going to be an army of personnel who are going to want a minute-by-minute breakdown of everything it did. Starting with Luther and Henry.”
“I very much doubt that will be of use. No one understands how the Huragok perform their repair tasks. I am not even certain they comprehend it themselves. It is simply part of what they are.” He was sending a series of signs at the Huragok. “I am now asking how long it will take to activate the portal itself.”
Beneath their feet, the ground was beginning to rumble.
“I . . . think it already did,” said Vale.
There was an exit thirty meters down the hallway. All around them, as Vale and Usze hurried toward it with the Huragok buzzing behind them, the pulsing lines of circuitry were now firing into full effect. The speed and the brightness both increased by tenfold within mere seconds.
They dashed into the elevator, and as the doors slid shut, Vale hit her communications link. “I need to speak to the captain immediately.”
A few moments passed, and then she heard Richards’s voice on the other end. “Richards here. Go ahead.”
With no preamble, Vale said, “Captain, this is Vale. The Huragok was successful. The portal has been activated and is coming online right now.”
The elevator shook violently for a moment and then seemed to regain control of itself. Richards didn’t respond and Vale repeatedly hit the communications unit. “Captain? Captain!” Nothing. She had lost connection.
The elevator doors slid open, and Vale, Usze, and Drifts Randomly raced out onto a landscape in chaos. Machinery created thousands of years ago was now coming to life. Nearby trees were swaying, flocks of birds rising into the air, and various small animals ran in confusion in response to the quake. Usze noted humans also moving frantically about the large landing strip and adjacent facility. Despite the appearance that a massive earthquake had struck and would swallow them all, the ground remained intact and no fault crevices were noticeable. From the distance, he could see that the buildings were shaking but enduring the test of their structures and managing to hold together. Some four-legged, hooved animals with horns, somewhat resembling a variety of keifra found on Sanghelios, were panicking, though, trying to find some place that didn’t seem determined to shake itself to death. Some of them ran directly in their path. Vale attempted to sidestep them, and Usze simply kicked them out of his way.
But that wasn’t the extent of all that was transpiring.
The pylons surrounding the vast core of the Forerunner machine were now slowly rising, many thousands of meters high. It was the first time that they were clearly exposed, huge, towering triangles that reached toward the sky.
The core, at the center of the artifact a great distance away from their position, was beginning to charge with power as well. Usze saw before he heard the sound that was starting to emanate from it, and then the sound caught up with the faraway light. The energy was building up, faster and faster.
And then it was unleashed. The core came to life and a powerful beam of light blasted upward. It had been a blue, cloudless day over the city of Voi, but now a twirling circuit of purple energy was ripping time and space open, and a violent brooding storm suddenly took form.
Vale and Usze could only stop and stare. “Incredible,” she breathed. Apparently she had never seen a portal before, and even Usze had to admit that experiencing one for the first time could certainly be overwhelming.
Then the Sangheili’s eyes narrowed. The portal was activated, that much was certain. But—
“Something is coming through,” he announced.
“What?” That surprised the hell out of Vale. The only thing on the other end was the Ark, and surely that didn’t have the capability to send something through in reverse. Henry’s note about the previous “disappearances” at the Ark suddenly came to the front of her mind. . . .
Usze ‘Taham was unquestionably correct. Something was starting to emerge from the portal hole. It was clearly a vessel of some sort. Vale stood there, wide-eyed, in amazement. She had never seen anything like it.
The object was only slightly smaller than the average UNSC frigate, and almost looked as if it were alive. It reminded Vale of a mythical sea creature. It was a dark gray machine, the lower section lined with several mechanical legs, like tentacles, that were moving about as if searching for something. The upper section was vast and wide like a tortoise shell. There were glowing lights on the thing’s front that, although they were certainly not intended for it, reminded Vale of great eyes that were studying the surface below.
“What the hell is that?” murmured Vale.
Usze immediately had the answer. “It’s a Strato-Sentinel. It’s one of the automated drones the Forerunners use on their artificial worlds. The Covenant originally thought them to be holy warriors of the Sacred Rings. There are many types of Sentinels that the Forerunners created—this particular one is designated as a Retriever.”
“How do you know so much about them?”
“You would be amazed at the various facts that warriors must learn in order to survive in the battlefield. I have seen them before, when we were on the Ark—we witnessed them mine the installation’s moon in order to fabricate the replacement Halo.”
“So it’s a mining device?”
“Our records indicate that it employs an artificially produced gravitic force to remove minerals from a planet’s surface. Those minerals in turn are used to build Forerunner structures and installations.”
“But why is it here?”
“Somethi
ng on the Ark might have sent it through,” said Usze grimly. “To obtain minerals in order to effect repairs.”
“So you’re saying that—”
Suddenly the underside of the Retriever began to glow. It was hovering several kilometers away from Usze and Vale, but it still seemed terribly close.
At that moment, a vast blue beam blasted down from the Retriever. The instant it struck the ground, the earth began to tremble. Vale bolted in the opposite direction, with Usze and the Huragok right behind her.
What struck her most of all was how silent it was. She heard some sort of grinding at the point where the beam was hitting the ground, but the beam itself was making no noise at all. She supposed it made sense, if its energy was genuinely gravitic.
Then, to her shock, she saw the ground starting to swirl upward, as if a tornado was being created on the spot. Pure energy ripped through everywhere it struck, chunks of the planet’s surface caught in the grip of the gravity beams and hauled into the underbelly of the Retriever.
She only realized that she’d stopped running to gawk at what was happening when she was abruptly hauled off her feet. Vale let out a startled shriek as the Sangheili scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder as he ran past. “We cannot remain here!” he said.
“Put me down!”
“As soon as we are out of danger.”
Vale had to admit that, despite her terror, Usze’s actions were all rather impressive. He didn’t run so much as fly across the ground, his legs moving so quickly that they were a blur to Vale. Part of her hated the concept of surrendering her ability to move thanks to a Sangheili who was carting her like a duffle bag . . . but damn, was he fast.
Even more amazing—the Huragok was keeping up with them.
She had never seen the Engineer move in anything except slow motion, but now it was buzzing through the air so quickly that Vale realized it could likely leave Usze in its wake if it were so inclined. Instead it kept perfect pace with him. She had no idea how, but it was clearly with maximum efficiency.
“What are we going to do?!” she called to Usze over the sound of the ground being devastated several kilometers away.
“Deal with the Retriever, certainly,” said Usze. “We need to find N’tho, and quickly.”
The world around N’tho ‘Sraom had become very confusing.
The last thing he recalled was the battle with the Spartan, who appeared determined to kill him because N’tho had cut off his arm during the war. N’tho had to admit that it certainly made a much better reason than many others he could name.
And suddenly everything had gone black.
Now the Sangheili had come to, but when he tried to stand, he was unable to do so. He quickly discovered the reason why: there was a tree pinning him down. And it was heavy.
Noise began to fill his ears. It took him a moment to realize what it was and where it was coming from.
“A Retriever . . . ?” he muttered, seeing the Forerunner machine high in the sky, remembering them from his time on the Ark. This Retriever was carrying out its design function by tearing the ground apart. Its actions had sent rumbling through the underground, knocking over all manner of things, and one of them had apparently been this tree that was now lying across him.
He shoved against the trunk with all his strength but was unable to budge it. He glanced around for his plasma sword and saw it lying on the ground several meters away, still powered up. He stretched his arm toward it, but his efforts were futile. It was simply too far away.
Where is the Spartan?
The thought flittered across his mind and he looked around, wondering if Kodiak was even still alive or if he had been felled by something equally formidable.
There. The Spartan was standing barely three meters away and was fortunate enough to be unharmed. He was holding his own glowing sword and staring at the fallen Sangheili.
It was only at that moment when N’tho realized the depth of trouble he was now in. He was defenseless, entirely at the vengeful Spartan’s mercy.
But if this was to be N’tho’s fate, then so be it. During the war, he had slaughtered the humans—the defilers, as they were claimed to be by the Prophets—in the name of the Covenant and the Path to the Great Journey. Some of them begged for mercy before they died, yet the Covenant was relentless in its brutality. N’tho ‘Sraom did not beg. Not ever. If he were to die now, he would do so as a warrior and not some sniveling coward.
If the Spartan was aware of the Forerunner machine in the area and the damage it was inflicting on his beloved home planet, he didn’t show it. Instead his attention was entirely focused on N’tho.
He strode slowly toward the Sangheili, holding his sword out as if he were anticipating some sort of impossible thrust that would stop him. His eyes blazed as he drew closer, until he was standing just a half-meter away from his target, staring coldly at N’tho . . . no, through him, as if the Elite wasn’t even there.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment.
N’tho thought of all the things he could have said right then. Is this how a warrior seeks revenge? Will you be proud of yourself when you walk away from my corpse? Will you boast of your accomplishment of defeating a helpless opponent, human, or will you keep it to yourself? Profess ignorance of what happened to me when my body is discovered? Will this triumph satisfy you?
He asked none of these questions out loud.
Instead he simply stared at Kodiak, not blinking, not looking away. In the end, there was really nothing for him to say.
Kodiak drew the plasma sword back and then swept it down toward N’tho. The energy blade crackled as it came in contact with the tree and sliced right through it. The bisected trunk split in both directions and fell away, freeing the Sangheili.
Then the Spartan deactivated the sword and locked it onto his thigh’s armor plating. He did not offer N’tho a hand to stand up, but instead just kept looking at him, as if the Sangheili were some sort of strange creature that had just fallen planetside rather than a mortal enemy of his species—and whether that current designation was the former or otherwise remained to be seen.
N’tho rolled to his feet and grabbed the hilt of his own still-activated sword, but Kodiak had already turned and was walking away.
“Why did you not kill me?” N’tho called out.
The Spartan stopped and remained with his back to the Sangheili. “I said I wasn’t going to. I tell the truth. Granted, I was considering severing your arm in kind, but . . .” He shrugged. “So . . . what is that thing?”
“It’s a Retriever,” N’tho replied, deactivating the blade. “I know that because—”
“I don’t care. All I care about is, how do we stop it?”
“We need to get to my ship.”
“We may not have to.”
Sure enough, combat had already been undertaken. The UNSC cruiser—the Endeavor—was descending from its orbital perch, bearing down on the Retriever. Its big guns opened fire on the Forerunner machine, pummeling it with as much ferocity as the ship could muster.
The Retriever immediately turned its attention from the planet’s surface to the incoming ship. The beam that had been churning up the ground with tornado-like force shifted and directed its energy toward the oncoming vessel. The Endeavor angled away as it continued to pound on the Retriever with its armament. The one advantage that the humans had at this point was that the Retriever was not designed as a battleship, and consequently had little to no shielding.
But it was not without its own offensive capabilities. N’tho and Kodiak watched fixedly as the Retriever’s gravitic beam angled upward toward the Endeavor. The UNSC ship’s thrusters drove it up as the big guns cut loose, hammering the Retriever. The Retriever shook as if tearing itself apart, yet continued to target the Endeavor. The Endeavor cut hard to port and suddenly the Retriever’s beam angled sharply over, much faster than it had seemed capable of moving. The beam enveloped the Endeavor, and the UNSC vessel started spinning in mi
dair. Yet that did not deter whoever was commanding Endeavor, as the ship’s guns continued to blast away at the Retriever.
N’tho and Kodiak watched in silence, utterly helpless to do anything to affect this decisive battle’s outcome.
And then, just as it seemed that the Endeavor was about to be ripped apart by the gravitic beam, much like the ground beneath it, a gout of white flame erupted from the Retriever’s underside. “Yesss,” said Kodiak, and he was right to be pleased. The Retriever vibrated and the gravitic beam that was wrapped around the Endeavor vanished. The Endeavor stopped spinning and, sensing its impending victory, seemed to redouble its efforts, its weapons firing on the Retriever in response.
In the sky, the human ship had now been joined by dozens of smaller craft, all rising from the nearby complex and together unleashing a fusillade of firepower from their own weapons. Small explosions flashed all around the Forerunner machine and then, seconds later, it detonated in a massive ball of flame.
“Your vessels are quite formidable,” said N’tho.
“Damn right.”
“Granted, they defeated a Forerunner device that was not designed for combat situations, but still . . . an impressive performance.”
The Spartan cast him a sideways glance that apparently indicated the human was not amused.
N’tho ignored him. Instead he was studying the now-open portal swirling in the darkened sky overhead. “We need to go through.”
“The portal?”
“Yes.”
“We can’t just go flying through it.”
N’tho was walking with great strides in the direction of his dropship. “My understanding is that that was the plan.”