Halo: The Rubicon Protocol - Kelly Gay - E-Book

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Kelly Gay

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Beschreibung

An original full-length Halo novel tying directly into the latest entry of the New York Times bestselling video game series, Halo Infinite. December 2559. Humanity has its back against the wall after the United Nations Space Command flagship Infinity drops out of slipspace into a devastating ambush launched by the Banished. As this fierce enemy alliance seeks to claim a mysterious object hidden within the ancient Forerunner construct known as Zeta Halo, the surviving UNSC corps finds itself compromised and its leadership out of reach—with remaining personnel forced to abandon ship and take their chances on the fractured, unpredictable surface of the Halo ring. Now survival in this strange, alien environment—whether for Spartan super-soldiers or those who never thought they would see the battle up close—is measured day to day against a relentless and brutal adversary that always has the upper hand. Desperation grows, but the will to keep on fighting and enduring no matter the odds is never in doubt . . . even as the Banished seek to unleash a frightening new enemy that could doom them all. . . .

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CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Leave us a Review

Copyright

Historian’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Acknowledgments

About the Author

DON’T MISS THESE OTHER THRILLING STORIES IN THE WORLDS OF

HALO INFINITE

Halo: The Rubicon Protocol

Kelly Gay

THE FERRETS

Troy Denning

Halo: Last Light

Halo: Retribution

Halo: Divine Wind

RION FORGE &ACE OF SPADES

Kelly Gay

Halo: Smoke and Shadow

Halo: Renegades

Halo: Point of Light

THE MASTER CHIEF & BLUE TEAM

Troy Denning

Halo: Silent Storm

Halo: Oblivion

Halo: Shadows of Reach

ALPHA-NINE

Matt Forbeck

Halo: New Blood

Halo: Bad Blood

GRAY TEAM

Tobias S. Buckell

Halo: The Cole Protocol

Halo: Envoy

THE FORERUNNER SAGA

Greg Bear

Halo: Cryptum

Halo: Primordium

Halo: Silentium

THE KILO-FIVE TRILOGY

Karen Traviss

Halo: Glasslands

Halo: The Thursday War

Halo: Mortal Dictata

THE ORIGINAL SERIES

Halo: The Fall of Reach

Eric Nylund

Halo: The Flood

William C. Dietz

Halo: First Strike

Eric Nylund

Halo: Ghosts of Onyx

Eric Nylund

STANDALONE STORIES

Halo: Contact Harvest

Joseph Staten

Halo: Broken Circle

John Shirley

Halo: Hunters in the Dark

Peter David

Halo: Saint’s Testimony

Frank O’Connor

Halo: Shadow of Intent

Joseph Staten

Halo: Legacy of Onyx

Matt Forbeck

SHORT STORY ANTHOLOGIES

Various Authors

Halo: Evolutions: Essential Tales

of the Halo Universe

Halo: Fractures: More Essential Tales

of the Halo Universe

LEAVE US A REVIEW

We hope you enjoy this book – if you did we would really appreciate it if you can write a short review. Your ratings really make a difference for the authors, helping the books you love reach more people.

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Halo: The Rubicon Protocol

Print edition ISBN: 9781803363158

E-book edition ISBN: 9781803363165

Published by Titan Books

A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd

144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP

www.titanbooks.com

First Titan edition: August 2022

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2022 by Microsoft Corporation. All Rights Reserved. Microsoft, Halo, the Halo logo, Xbox, and the Xbox logo are trademarks of the Microsoft group of companies.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

HISTORIAN’S NOTE

This story begins in December 2559, following the immediate aftermath of the Banished ambush against the UNSC flagship Infinity at Zeta Halo as seen at the beginning of Halo Infinite.

CHAPTER 1

UNSCInfinity

December 12, 2559

Day 1

“Stone, get those lifeboats deployed now!” Palmer’s voice rang sharp in her ears.

“On the last load out, Commander. We’ve got a total of four seats open.”

“They’ll never make it. I’m diverting them to Bay Ten. And watch your tail. It’s a mess out there.”

“Roger that.”

A metric ton of titanium support beam pressed on Spartan Bonita Stone’s armor-clad shoulders as she held up the corridor ceiling from collapsing. Her muscles burned. Pressure built in her chest, her heart working overtime to process the massive surge of adrenaline flowing through her system. Amid the smoke billowing in the passageway twenty meters ahead, a friendly was making his way to the lifeboats behind her. Infinity shuddered again. Power cables and plating fell and sparked and the giant beam she held aloft shifted. Her stance dropped another fifteen centimeters, putting incredible strain on her thighs and knees.

“How … much … farther?” She squeezed her eyes closed and gritted her teeth.

“Nineteen meters,” Ouco, her personal AI, replied.

Stone cracked her eyes open, dialing in on the shadowy figure emerging from the haze. It was a young medic, stumbling and coughing, then suddenly falling to his knees as he gagged on the acrid white smoke of melting cables and circuitry. “Get up!” she shouted. Her muscles began to tremble from fatigue; she’d have to release the beam soon. “Get your ass up right now! If I can hold this damn beam, you can stand! One foot in front of the other!”

“I’m trying,” he gasped, barely audible, as a massive fiber-optic cable fell through the broken ceiling, hitting the floor next to him. Several meters behind him, the passageway blew apart and red fragments of what looked like a Banished Seraph tore through Infinity’s hull.

The vacuum of space began to pull smoke and fire and debris. Horrified, the medic scrambled to his feet and ran straight for her. As soon as he slid clear under her arm, Stone ducked and pushed herself backward. The beam immediately slammed into the deck. Quickly she turned, took two steps, grabbed the kid by the arm, and raced toward the lifeboat bay, sealing the doors once they were inside.

Only two escape craft remained. Stone pushed the medic toward the lifeboat with one vacant seat left and then paused. Orders were orders and the chain of command had to be respected at all times, but there were still three empty seats in the second lifeboat and hundreds if not thousands of Infinity’s crew still stuck on board.

Reports continued to pour in via Spartan Channel, TEAMCOM, the battlenet … So many continued to fight their way throughout the massive UNSC flagship, or were already out there in fighters, hounding the Banished.

The heavy thunder of Infinity’s 70mm autocannons and Scythe turrets echoed relentlessly as the vessel’s super-heavy magnetic accelerator cannons fired tungsten projectiles that could tear clean through an enemy warship in a single shot. Amid the weapons’ constant clamor, the ship-wide PA system continued issuing evacuation directives, revising which areas to go to, and which lifesaving measures hadn’t yet been destroyed by the Banished fleet. Dozens of alarms blared through the ship until everything sounded like one gigantic sustained roar.

“Spartan Stone!” A lone marine had finished ushering the medic into the first lifeboat, distress clear in her face as she met Stone’s gaze. It was time to go.

Stone glanced once more down the corridors, one way now sealed and the other an impassable tangle of twisted metal and fire.

No one else was coming. No one else could.

After the first lifeboat’s door sealed, Stone stepped onto the small loading platform and ducked into the second lifeboat, ignoring the sour knot in her stomach and trying to keep her focus on the now versus what she was leaving behind. She closed the hatch and strode down the aisle toward the pilot’s seat. “Buckle up tight. And when I say brace, you brace. Got it?”

The response was lackluster. The five faces staring at her were pale and streaked with soot. All the passengers were dressed in standard-issue marine coveralls, a corporal among them.

“We’ll be hitting the ground in a war zone. Once we land, weapons ready. I’ll debark first.” They continued gazing at her. “Hey!” She slammed a fist against the bulkhead, making them jump. “The Banished have taken our ship, our home, and our people. You gonna stand for that?”

A few heads shook and backs suddenly went a little straighter.

“Well?”

“Hell, no,” the corporal piped up, and then others murmured in agreement.

“That’s right. Hell. No.”

Angry, Stone slid all four hundred kilos of her TRAILBLAZER-class GEN3 Mjolnir armor into the pilot’s seat—no easy feat, but there was just enough room to maneuver.

“Link established,” Ouco said. “Ready for your input, Spartan Stone.”

It was times like these that she appreciated her choice of personal AI. Ouco’s steady personality and calming baritone had a knack for setting her at ease no matter the situation. “Initiate auto escape and evasion routine.”

“Initiating now.”

Behind her, the cabin was eerily quiet. Five souls in her care and nine in the other lifeboat were counting on her to get them through hell in the sky and onto the surface of Zeta Halo.

She opened a channel to the companion lifeboat: “Papa Tango Delta Zero Nine, this is Echo India Bravo Zero Eight, copy?”

“Papa Nine, copy. Reading you loud and clear, Echo Eight.”

Wait. She knew that easy drawl. “Murphy … is that you?”

The lieutenant and Pelican pilot, well-known among Spartan ranks, should have already been deployed, but should-haves didn’t really apply to their current situation. The UNSC Infinity dropping out of slipspace smack into a Banished ambush had made navigating certain parts of the vessel impossible. She should know; she should be accelerating to the surface in a drop pod right about now.

“Yeah, lost my ride. Whole damn hangar is gone.”

Another blast rocked the ship, the shockwave vibrating through the lifeboat hull as its docking clamps released.

“Roger that,” she replied somberly. “Stay glued to my six. We’re going to do this together. Sending landing trajectory. Once we’re down, we’ll be in the thick of it. Get your folks out, find cover, and then wait for me.”

“Music to my ears. Will do. Murphy out.”

Stone had a wealth of experience when it came to endless war and incursions into uncharted hostile territories; she’d seen her fair share of shocking, unforgettable things, but what she was feeling now was altogether new. That they were abandoning ship—and not just any ship—seemed unreal. Infinity was the United Nations Space Command’s pride and joy, its flagship, a technologically advanced monster on every front. She wasn’t supposed to falter.

And yet, she had.

Infinity had set out on a high-risk mission to stop the rogue AI, Cortana, who had taken control of Zeta Halo and was using it as a base of operations. When they arrived, however, they didn’t just find the ancient ringworld—they found the Banished. The captain’s steady voice still echoed in her head: “Captain Lasky to all hands. Banished forces are present above the ring—repeat, Banished forces are between us and our target. All stations engage Banished craft. Infinity, we must reach our target.” And soon after, Commander Sarah Palmer’s orders cracking over the ship-wide intercom: “Spartans, all teams! You heard the captain. It’s an ambush. Somehow the Banished beat us to the target. Your orders are simple. Eliminate hostiles with extreme prejudice!”

“Locks released. Thrusters online,” Ouco informed her as the lifeboat drifted from its docking clamps and its thrusters executed a burst to send them away from Infinity’s hull.

The lifeboat, an SKT-29 Bumblebee, wasn’t equipped for offense or even that much defense; its sole purpose was to propel fleeing personnel down to a surface like an armor-plated bullet.

If they weren’t picked off by the Banished first. …

Her TEAMCOM channel continued to provide live audio of Fireteam Shadow’s activities. Shadow One barked through the speaker: “Kovan, report!”

While Stone and Kovan had orders to evac, the other two members of Fireteam Shadow stayed in the thick of things. A quick look at her display showed them hunkered down in Infinity’s primary hangar bay, holding off the Banished incursion with Fireteam Taurus, who now appeared to be breaking off to begin their descent to the surface of the ring.

“This is Kovan,” a calm voice replied. Leave it to Nina Kovan to sound as even-keeled as ever. “Approaching drop pod now.”

“Good. Those Banished artillery guns are picking off our lifeboats and drop pods as soon as they enter lower atmosphere. Once you hit dirt, you know what to do.”

“En route now, Shadow One,” Stone informed him.

“See you both on the surface,” he replied, and cut transmission.

“Hey, Kovan,” Stone said, finally getting a good look at what they were facing as the lifeboat moved away from the ailing ship. “Remember running the HIVEMIND trials on Anvil Station?”

“How could I forget?”

“Factor it by a thousand and this is it.”

A collision alert blared through the lifeboat as they cleared Infinity’s port side, cutting off Kovan’s reply. A UNSC Longsword starfighter streaked past, nearly clipping their bow as it swooped up under Infinity’s hull and hooked a hard left, rotary cannons blazing.

“Initiating final burst,” Ouco said.

The push sent the craft into open space, giving Stone an expansive look at the mayhem. Explosions, weapons fire, plasma blasts, and artillery peppered the space all around them as Infinity and her support ships gave everything they had. Broadswords, Pelicans, and Longswords crisscrossed space in an effort to take out Banished Seraphs, Phantoms, and Grievers and provide support to lifeboats, drop pods, and troop carriers streaming from Infinity while the flagship’s escort frigates maneuvered to inflict maximum damage to Banished warships.

Witnessing the Banished force firsthand, the sheer number … she hadn’t seen anything like this since the end of the Covenant War. Stone wondered what the hell the Banished were doing here. Except for those aboard Infinity, the UNSC’s mission was—or should have been—virtually unknown. They were attempting to unseat Cortana from her place of power and eliminate the oppressive threat of her forces spread throughout the Orion Arm, something that had cost countless lives over the last year. But now a massive Banished fleet hung in the space between them and the ring, and their chances for even surviving this operation, no less completing it, were plummeting dramatically.

There was a very real risk of getting hit by friendly fire just as much as enemy fire, and while she had the advantage of faster reflexes and response times than most pilots and could use the lifeboat’s thrusters to push the tiny vessel to its limits, in a war zone like this they’d be lucky to make it into the atmosphere in one piece.

Collision alerts and modifications came at Stone with lightning speed as, outside the craft, escape shuttles and drop pods exploded or took hits that sent them spinning into others or spiraling out into deep space. And while Fireteam Windfall was using their aerial expertise to provide support, it was literal pandemonium in the skies.

Spartan Vedrana Makovich lit up Stone’s comms. “Hey, Stone, you’ve got a Phantom coming in fast at nine o’clock!”

“Thanks, Mako. I see it.” And she also saw a way out. Four hundred meters ahead, an enemy dreadnought lay powerless with a gaping hole in its midsection, the victim of a direct hit from Infinity’s MAC rounds. They’d already accelerated to ninety-five meters per second and gaining. No time to apply the brakes—not that she’d use them anyway. Burning up the single-use brakes now meant they wouldn’t have them later to slow down for landing.

Murphy’s voice cut through the din of her comms: “They’ve got a lock on us!”

“Stay on course, Murphy.”

“Wait. We’re not … Stone, you’ve got tobe—”

The lifeboat shot inside the dreadnought, breaking through debris and plating, its reinforced armor like a battering ram— smaller and tougher than the Phantom following them.

“Jesus,” Murphy’s rattled voice echoed as both lifeboats exited the damaged vessel intact, the Phantom lost somewhere behind them.

“It’s not over yet,” she said. “Entering upper atmosphere. Hold on.”

One hundred and twenty meters per second now.

Stone glanced out the viewport. Thousands of pods and lifeboats, shuttles and ships, and damaged vessels and debris streaked on parallel trajectories toward the surface of a colossal, artificially constructed alien ring designed to both harbor life and destroy it on a galaxy-wide scale. Its inner habitable surface glowed invitingly and deceptively in the darkness of space with familiar tones of blue, green, and white.

Stone kept watch on her readouts, and listened to the channels. A cacophony of voices came through TEAMCOM, while TACCOM was constantly updating intel. As far as she could tell, Captain Lasky and the bridge crew seemed to be in good hands. And Fireteam Taurus along with the other members of Fireteam Shadow had already abandoned ship.

She counted down kilometers in her head; impact was going to be a real bitch.

Lower atmosphere now and the surface of the ring was coming up fast, that ribbon of blue and green getting wider and wider … “Brace for impact!”

“Stone!” Murphy yelled. “We’ve beenhi—” The audio filled with static.

She searched for the companion lifeboat through the viewport, not seeing anything. “Hang in there, Murphy!” Then she saw it, spinning out of control, coming in at her two o’clock, the back section completely gone.

“Brace—brace—brace—” the automated system warned as clouds swept past the windshield.

“Bracing positions!” she yelled over her shoulder. “Landfall on the ring in five seconds!”

Those five seconds happened in an instant.

The lifeboat slammed into the ground at a steep angle with an earsplitting boom. The impact threw her hard against the harness, and then immediately in the opposite direction, her head snapping back and shoulders plowing into the pilot’s seat, breaking its frame. As the crashed lifeboat cut a vicious path through the earth, it shook so hard that even with her Spartan augmentations, it was difficult to focus or do anything but hold on to the harness.

“Ouco … speed,” she managed.

“Forty meters per second.”

The console in front of her suddenly spit out sparks and went black along with the cabin lights, putting them in complete darkness.

“Twenty.”

The lifeboat rapidly slowed, finally coming to a stop.

The sudden absence of motion after the chaos of the past several minutes felt strangely surreal.

Stone turned in the broken seat. “Sound off, marines!”

“We’re good, Spartan Stone,” came a female reply. “Bumps and bruises, not much else.”

“Copy that.” A miracle everyone had survived. Then again, the day was still young.

With that thought, Stone disengaged her harness and pushed herself to her feet. Her muscles felt sluggish and fatigued from holding up the support beam. Diagnostics were showing some tissue damage in both shoulders, thighs, and one knee. At least she didn’t feel any pain. Yet.

Her helmet light flared through the passenger cabin, beaming on the five occupants, all relatively unharmed; an incredible relief. “Soon as I blow the hatch,” she said, “we fan out in pairs. The ring’s already crawling with Banished. Be ready for anything.”

They got up slowly, filing behind her as she disengaged the door release. Daylight flooded inside. Stone unshouldered her M395 rifle, already scanning the area for potential threats as she poked her head outside. No targets in the direct vicinity, but she knew that wouldn’t last for long—the area just beyond the boulder-strewn ledge was lit up with signs of heavy fighting.

She left the lifeboat, making sure everyone was out before heading to the edge of the rocks to get a visual on their surroundings. Behind them, a wide grassy plateau led to rocky foothills and hundreds of acres of high alpine forest that stretched right up to the base of a massive snowcapped mountain range. In the sky, drop pods, evac craft, troop carriers, and burning debris rained down toward the surface like meteors, impacts shaking the ground and filling the air with constant thunder.

“Whoa,” one of the marines marveled, having followed her.

She glanced down. “You all right, marine?”

“Yeah. Just … for all the trouble these things are supposed to cause, I guess I never thought the surface of the ring would look so … beautiful.”

Her brow lifted.

That was certainly one way of looking at it. It was on the tip of her tongue to be sarcastic, but she let him have the moment. It wouldn’t be long before he’d forget about the idyllic scene and all he’d be able to see and remember would be the brutality of war.

CHAPTER 2

M9407 SOEIV

December 12, 2559

Day 1

UNSC Infinity was lost.

Over seven thousand souls scattered. Who knew how many dead …

Communications had come in rapid-fire succession from all departments—mayhem mingled with tactical updates, orders, and team sitreps. It wasn’t pretty, the things Spartan Nina Kovan heard as she entered the confines of her drop pod, the final calls for help, the shock and terror, as she strapped in and initiated deployment, going through systems check, removing safeties, and then arming the ejection tube.

The comms being fed into her helmet’s heads-up display went quiet as the pod’s communications suite took over. Two video screens flickered to life, one delivering relevant tactical information while the other showed a live feed of Spartan Henri Malik in the cockpit of a Sabre.

Malik, along with the rest of Fireteam Windfall, was out there picking off Banished Phantoms and fighters, clearing the space along Infinity’s ejection tubes to allow for the deployment of Spartans and Orbital Drop Shock Troopers en masse.

“No time to countdown,” Malik broadcast on an open channel. His head tipped sideways as the Sabre rolled, then righted. “Path is clear. Occupied pods, fire immediately.”

Kovan bypassed the normal protocol of a thirty-second countdown and initiated ejection. The drop pod shot through the vertical ejection tube like a missile, throwing her back against the seat, and out into the blackness of space.

The view that greeted her was sobering. Hundreds just like her streamed from the burning flagship and straight into Banished-infested territory. Almost immediately, a pod at her three o’clock exploded as a Seraph streaked past. Kovan gritted her teeth as the harsh realization swept through her. Outnumbered and outgunned, she and everyone else would be damn lucky to make it into the upper atmosphere. The Banished were picking off Infinity’s crew with relative ease, which meant there was only one thing to do: cause as much damage as possible on the way down.

Single-occupant exoatmospheric insertion vehicles— SOEIVs—were notoriously difficult to maneuver; their job was to deliver ground forces from high orbit straight to the surface in rapid time—but all she needed was a little redirection. …

“Mouse, find me a target,” she said, scanning the skies.

Her AI went to work, quiet as its namesake and just how she liked it, linking to the pod’s targeting array and switching one of the video feeds to a grid pattern. The AI locked on to three potential targets on a similar trajectory toward the surface. Kovan made a slight course correction.

“Spartan Kovan, your drop pod’s on a collision course with a deployment of Phantoms in the ring’s stratosphere,”Spartan Malik reported as his video feed materialized on-screen. “Impact probability ninety-three percent. Adjust your course.”

“Why would I do that?” she replied as one corner of her mouth turned up. “I’m aiming for them.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised. Good luck, Spartan.”

Once she’d made up her mind, nothing short of orders from senior command could make her back down, something Malik, along with every other Spartan, knew very well. Kovan gave him a curt nod and his form disappeared from the drop pod’s viewscreen. Far beyond the tempered glass, the inner curve of the Halo ring took shape, growing increasingly larger as she torpedoed toward the stratosphere.

Approaching terminal velocity, the pod gained on the trio of Phantoms as they swept down into the ring’s artificial atmosphere, firing on anything UNSC as they went.

Adrenaline coursed through Kovan’s system, making her enhanced body hum with readiness. With no weapons array on the drop pod, the choice was clear: the pod itself was the weapon, a five-hundred-kilogram projectile aimed right at the Phantoms.

The fuselage of a Pelican whipped in front of her pod in a near-miss blur, enemy plasma still eating away at its broken edges.

As the pod broke the Halo ring’s lower atmosphere, the collision alarm blared. “Time to impact: eighteen seconds.”

She switched off the alarm.

The Phantoms broke formation, two leaving to swoop back into the upper atmosphere, while the third stayed glued to a fleeing RLT-85 shuttlepod as it dropped in front of a snowcapped mountain range, soaring over a vast alpine forest, and straight into a wide valley rife with smoke and fire as the battle raged on the surface. Another course correction kept her on the Phantom’s path while Mouse calculated a midair boarding scenario. Extreme maybe, but blowing through the Banished craft like she intended was too risky with it glued so closely to the shuttle’s tail.

One hundred and eighty meters per second, the pod gained on the Phantom in a flash as it fired on the fleeing shuttle.

The drop pod shuddered, and her teeth vibrated, but Kovan willed the clatter and pandemonium to fade until all she could hear was the sound of her slow, steady exhales and her beating heart. She smiled. “This is probably gonna hurt. …”

She came in fast, braking rockets firing moments before the pod slammed into the Phantom as it leveled off, slicing through its hull as the automatic braking chute deployed. Alarms screeched again, controls sparking as explosive bolts triggered and the drop pod’s door expelled into the interior of the Phantom.

She was out in seconds, seven enemy targets appearing on her HUD as she drew her MK50 Sidekick. “Knock knock.”

After being holed up in the drop pod, Kovan was ready to exact some close-quarters payback. Immediately, she fired at the two dazed enemy targets in the cockpit as the Phantom nose-dived.

“Fifty meters to impact,” Mouse warned.

Out of control, the Phantom rolled. There was little time to find an anchor and the ground was coming up fast. Kovan turned and dove into the drop pod as the Phantom hit the ground like a lightning bolt. Despite the protection of her STORMFALL-class Mjolnir armor, and titanium nano-composite body suit with its shock-absorbing layer of hydrostatic gel, the sudden force rattled through her body.

A shaky groan escaped her lips as she shook off the crash effects—beyond the split-second gratitude of being alive, there wasn’t time to acknowledge anything else as battlenet reports flooded through her HUD and five Sangheili targets were rousing within the crashed Phantom.

She opened her TEAMCOM channel and said, “Kovan, on the ground,” and then she went to work. As soon as her feet hit the alien deck, a two-and-a-half-meter-tall Sangheili mercenary rushed her with an angry roar, mandibles wide. The collision sent her back several steps as she blocked with her forearm, ducked and spun, coming up at his side and firing a round from her MK50 into his ribcage, her combat knife already in her other hand, the blade sinking deeply into the thick cords of his muscled neck.

She was several steps ahead, knowing where her additional targets were and the directions they were moving. As the mercenary dropped, she yanked him close and used him as cover to head-shot another Sangheili that had been approaching from behind him.

Three more of his ilk took potshots at her with plasma rifles, superheated rounds peppering a stack of nearby containers as she dropped the alien body and dove for cover. In one fluid motion, she unshouldered her S7 sniper rifle and sighted, waiting for them to expose themselves. As if hiding behind consoles and supply crates was going to save them …

“Just a little peek. … Come on, don’t be shy,” she muttered.

“Wrap it up, Kovan,” Stone said via TEAMCOM.

Oh, she’d wrap it up, all right. Neatly and with seven little bows …

Not even Stone could distract her now. Kovan’s talent for compartmentalizing was one of her greatest strengths. Even with the relentless turmoil outside, the constant barrage of neighboring Banished AA guns vibrating through the Phantom, and debris pinging the exterior, she settled easily into her sweet spot. She had a sense for where to sight her target, an uncanny ability to determine when the smallest bit of an enemy would emerge. It felt like minutes, but in reality only a few seconds passed before the mercenary took another peek.

No hesitation. Ever.

As soon as the moment came, she took it, instantly squeezing the trigger. The impact blew out the Sangheili’s throat.

Two left. One crept behind the crates, changing positions to get a shot off on her position, but as soon as he exposed a shoulder, she fired. As he fell, she delivered the head shot.

The last one had come around the bulkhead to her left in an attempt to outflank her. She stayed put, letting him do the legwork and move in close. As soon as he unsheathed his energy sword and charged, she was ready, blocking his forearm with hers, then grabbing him by his red-painted combat harness, dropping to her rear, sticking a foot in his gut, and flipping him over her head. He clumsily hit the deck and she was on top of him at once, shoving the Sidekick under his chin and firing a round.

“Fireteam Taurus is quickly approaching your location,” Mouse announced.

Kovan left the dead Sangheili behind and headed toward the exit, just as her display showed Fireteam Taurus about to crest the ridge near her location. They were coming in hot, weapons drawn. “Stand down, Fireteam Taurus—friendly inside.”

“Kovan … ?” Spartan Griffin said. “What are you doing in there?”

She reached the vessel’s bay door and jumped to the ground. Nearby, the RLT-85 shuttlepod lay on its belly a few meters beyond against a rocky hillside. An endless barrage of drop pods, artillery fire, and crashing ships shook the ground as the air filled with explosive fallout—dirt and rocks and molten metal adding another deadly layer to the battlefield. Immediately Kovan ran for the downed shuttle. “The Phantom was in my way, so I went through it.” And then I cleaned it out.

“Contacts incoming.” Mouse fed her a wider target area, showing a number of Banished units approaching Taurus from the tail of the valley. She instinctively lifted and fired her S7 in a single motion, dropping a Jiralhanae coming over the ridge line.

“I count five Banished patrols making their way to your position,” she told Griffin. “If you’re going to move on those AA guns, you should do it now.”

“You heard her, Taurus—let’s move out. Thanks for the support, Kovan.”

“Nee-yet prob-lyem.”

And as soon as she saw to the shuttle, she’d join Taurus and her own fireteam to take the rest of those Banished artillery offline.

Smoke billowed from the shuttle as its hatch door blew. Personnel stumbled out, and Kovan breathed a sigh of relief.

“Banshee on approach,” Mouse said.

Damn it. “I see it.” Kovan put on the brakes, her heels sliding deep into the ground as she swung around, grabbed her rifle, and knelt in the dirt. She cocked her head and sighted its plasma cannon through the S7’s scope as the Banshee barreled toward her position, its single fuel-rod cannon letting loose and the ground exploding in a scorching trail of radioactive red. She fired and hit the weapon, then immediately fired again, straight into the vehicle’s central housing. The Banshee blew apart in a blinding explosion. Its fuselage hurtled toward her. She dove as it soared over her head and hit the side of the ridge with a deafening report.

Ignoring the rain of rocks hitting her Mjolnir, Kovan shouldered her S7 and ran to the smoking shuttle. The survivors were in pretty good shape, all things considered. Minor bumps and bruises, sooty faces, some more shocked than others. “Anyone else inside?” she asked, coming to a stop in front of them.

When no one answered, a tall, well-built man in his late twenties stepped forward. He wore a smoke-streaked navy T-shirt, torn navy slacks, combat boots, and held a rucksack over his shoulder. “The pilot is still inside,” he answered. “But he didn’t make it.”

There were no life signs coming from the shuttle, and with the crushed bow, Kovan wasn’t surprised by the unfortunate news or by the twinge of guilt that pinched her chest. The crash could have been avoided if she had intercepted the Phantom sooner. And while she knew well the price and casualties of war, it still didn’t stop her from feeling the losses. Nor did it stop her from compartmentalizing and moving forward. No time to dwell, not when there were others still alive to protect.

“You must have nerves of steel to stare down a Banshee out in the open like that,” the crewman marveled, eyes on the burning wreckage beyond her.

“You in charge?” she asked, ignoring the comment. The Banished were closing in on their location, her display lighting up with multiple ground targets on approach beyond the ridgeline; they needed to get moving.

“Me?” he asked, surprised. “Hell, no. I-I’m just a barber.” He pulled the rucksack strap aside, revealing the retail service badge on his shirt—a crossed key and quill.

“Not anymore. You got a name and a weapon?”

“Bender. Erik Bender. And no, not yet.”

“You must be pretty good with a blade, yes?” She pulled her M11 combat knife free. It was still wet with Sangheili blood. “Take it.” His eyes widened, but he took the offered blade and wiped it on his pants.

The ground trembled again and a massive concussion rocked the area. “We need to go,” she told the group as a unit of Broadswords streaked overhead. “Until our uplink to central command is restored, we’re on our own. There are weapons, rations, and supplies in the shuttle and more firepower in my drop pod over there. I suggest you grab as much as you can, and quickly.”

Evacuating an entire flagship into the middle of a war zone wasn’t something Kovan or any of the other Spartans had done before—at least, not to her knowledge. Infinity was full of capable fighters, but she also housed scores of support staff, people who were easy pickings for the Banished.

Weapons were quickly gathered, and six out of the eight survivors took them on with a capability that told Kovan they could hold their own in battle. The other two, Bender and a shorter, pale-faced academic with dried tear-streaks on his face, were definitely not as well-versed. Bender at least had already secured a rifle. She grabbed one of the BR75s that had been gathered and held it out to the other man. “You know how to use one of these?” He had to know the basics—even support staff couldn’t be assigned to the UNSC flagship without some form of training. He stared up at her, dark eyes round and mouth agape. At six feet nine inches, she towered over him and knew it could be an intimidating experience in conjunction with everything that had happened so far and the ongoing chaos around them. “What’s your name and rank, soldier?”

“Jo. Gavin Jo. Petty Officer Third Class, Mortuary Specialist.”

“Well, Mortuary Specialist Gavin Jo.” She grabbed his hand and put the weapon in it. “Here’s your new assignment. Point and shoot.”

He swallowed, blinked, and stood a little straighter. “Right. Point and shoot.” He checked the chamber, which gave her some hope he might come out of this alive.

With everyone armed and packed out, she opened a link to TEAMCOM. “Stone, we have a rendezvous point for Infinity personnel yet?”

“A few groups are heading into the mountains for cover, but it won’t be easy. The Banished have patrols and scouting parties just waiting to pick off survivors. … If you can provide your crew with enough cover to get them into the hills, they can meet up with my group.”

“Looks like that’ll have to do.”

“Run them to me,” Stone said. “Taurus needs your cover on those AA guns.”

“Roger that. Bringing them to your location.” Kovan turned to the group. “We’ll stick to the ridgeline, then head toward the mountains. I’ll get you as far as I can. Keep your heads down and move when I say move, shoot when I say shoot. Understood?”

Heads nodded and several responded somewhat simultaneously, “Understood.”

God, this was going to be a nightmare.

CHAPTER 3

PTD-09 SKT-29 Bumblebee

Zeta Halo

December 13, 2559

Day 2

Six hours had passed since they’d crash-landed onto Zeta Halo’s surface. Six hours since the back end of the lifeboat had been shorn off. Combat medic Lucas Browning closed his eyes and swallowed down the nausea that had plagued him ever since the first threat alarm blared throughout Infinity’s PA.

His mind was stuck on repeat, the harrowing play-by-play of confusion, shock, loss, and fire flashing one scene after another; the massive Spartan holding up the corridor like some mythical giant, urging him forward; the horror of shooting through space, getting hit—God, that sound, he’d never forget it; the roar of wind that had swept inside as they spun, the force ripping the last two occupants from their harnesses and out into thin air.

He didn’t realize his leg was bouncing until First Lieutenant TJ Murphy reached across the aisle and placed a hand on his knee. Their eyes met and Murphy gave him a slow nod that said: You’re okay.

The silent message calmed him, and he nodded back. He was okay.

Lucas drew in a deep breath and released it, reminding himself that he’d trained for situations just like this. It was his job to remain calm, to assess and address, which he’d done the moment he’d regained consciousness, examining every occupant in the lifeboat and providing treatment. Three survivors with bumps, bruises, and concussions, one severely wounded, two dead, and two unaccounted for.

Murphy leaned his head back against the crash seat and closed his eyes. The red emergency light caught the angles of his face and shadowed the dips and depressions. It should’ve made him look sinister, but all Lucas saw was a strong, been-there-seen-it-all kind of face, one that made him feel safe and told him they were in capable hands.

Through the small tear in the hull’s ceiling, he could see that night had fallen. Artillery fire still thundered in the distance and occasionally shook the lifeboat. They’d crashed hard and slid into some kind of ravine with such force that the vessel had become completely wedged in, leaving them with no way out.

The emergency rations provided on all lifeboats would last a week. And then what? They were trapped inside with two corpses and no working comms, and no one knew where they were. Didn’t matter what rank you were, what kind of experience you had: no one here had the means or strength to peel away the lifeboat’s reinforced armor plating and set them free.

Ensign Isaiah Cameron had taken apart the operations console as best he could and torn out parts to make a small, makeshift antenna, which he slipped through the rip in the hull, and then linked it up to what was left of the comms cables. Since then, they’d all taken shifts, continually trying to make contact with the UNSC, but had gotten no replies. From the sounds of the fighting, Lucas knew they might be too far from the battle, potentially in a dead zone or deep into Banished territory.

“This is downed Bumblebee Papa Tango Delta Zero Nine, issuing Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Does anyone copy?” Cameron’s voice carried from the pilot’s chair into the cabin, the low monotonous tone like a prayer issued over and over.

Lying prone in the aisle, Private Kinney let out a raspy cough.



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