Halo: Ghosts of Onyx (21 page)

"Tano was devout to the end," Y'gar said. "But his reasoning, in light of recent events, was not sound. This was regrettable, but necessary… Ship Master."

There it was: Voro was Master now. All the honor his. All the responsibility his as well.

He glanced at Tano, spilling his lifeblood over the command console, and set a hand on his mentor's shoulder, a parting gesture. "Remove him," Voro whispered.

Y'gar made a chuffing sound and three Unggoy
³
appeared and carried Tano off the bridge, sponging up the remains as they went.

Voro knocked one with a cleaning rag aside. "Let his blood remain there," he said.

The Unggoy scurried away.

The stain would forever remain on Voro's soul; it could stay on the deck as well, a reminder of the price he had paid for their survival.

Voro then stared at the central holographic viewer: at the insanity that surrounded the

Incorruptible.

³
Unggoy: the Elite name for the Grunt race

The Second Fleet of Homogeneous Clarity was in chaos; more than a hundred ships maneuvered on random vectors, barely avoiding collisions, and in the distance the silver arc of the Forerunner Halo construct—ominous, breathtaking, and the source of this trouble.

It had made Ship Master Tano lose his mind. He belonged to a fringe sect, the Governors of Contrition, who believed
all
Forerunner creations were sacrosanct. This even applied to the parasitic Flood infestation on Halo. Tano had reasoned that the Forerunners had created a perfect life-form, and it was therefore their duty to protect, even embrace, it. He had ordered the
Incorruptible
closer to the Halo ring to
allow
the disease aboard.

That would never occur while Voro breathed. The Flood was an infection that had to be cleansed. There was nothing remotely "holy" about it.

The
Incorruptible
shuddered.

"Plasma on the port lateral shield," Uruo Losonaee said, leaning over his OPS station. His strained voice betrayed that he had only recently been initiated in combat. "Successfully deflected, but the shield has collapsed."

The hull reverberated once more.

"Strike on the aft shield," Uruo said. "It's holding."

"One-third power forward," Voro said. "Roll to present starboard shields." He turned to Zasses on NAV. "Trace those firing solutions and get me a target!"

"Calculating, sir," Zasses said. "Solution obtained. Two targets."

A holographic frigate pair appeared on the deck and sped toward them: the
Tenebrous
and the
Twilight Compunction,
commanded by the alpha Jiralhanae
⁴
, Gargantum.

This was Voro's other problem.

⁴
Jiralhanae: the Elite name for the Brute race

In the confusion caused by the departing Prophets, the Sangheili's ancient feud with the Jiralhanae had escalated into xenocide.

The frigate pair moved as one, accelerating, their lateral lines warmed, and released a second salvo of plasma that arced toward the
Incorruptible.

"Maneuver one two zero by zero seven five," Voro shouted.

"Coming about," Zasses answered, and the stars wheeled through the holographic view space. "Sir, that places the carrier
Lawgiver
between us and them."

"The
Lawgiver
has fully generated lateral shields," Voro growled. "They can take the hit."

The frigate pair split to miss the carrier in their flight path. The enemy ships, and their plasma torpedoes, became obscured by the bulk of the sleek carrier.

"Heat lines four and seven," Voro ordered, "and prepare to target the
Tenebrous
as it emerges from the carrier's shadow. Divert engine power to the fore energy projector and make ready to (ire at full capacity. Estimate targeting solution based on last known trajectory."

U ruo nodded and made the weapons ready.

The alpha Jiralhanae Ship Master was savage, but he was ef-fective. Voro could not afford to merely wound one of them.

The edges of the
Lawgiver's
shield shimmered, dispersing the plasma into fiery wisps— an inconvenience for them… a Hfe-saving maneuver for the
Incorruptible.

The Jiralhanae frigate attack pair appeared, one over and one under the carrier.

"Fire all lines," Voro ordered.

The lights on the bridge dimmed as plasma heated and flowed from their lateral banks and arced forward in two bloody streaks across the dark.

"Counter guiding signals detected!" Y'gar shouted. "Attempt-ing to disrupt."

The plasma blots drifted back and forth and diffused into smears in a signal tug-of-war between them and the Jiralhanae. Voro had not anticipated they had such abilities. Stolen, no doubt… so they wouldn't know all the system's intricacies.

"Reprogram to home in on their signal lock," Voro said.

"Yes," Y'gar murmured, and his hands moved algorithm blocks over this console. "Lock

reestablished on new signal," he said.

Their plasma smoothed, concentrated—and accelerated.

The Jiralhanae frigate turned into their shot, presenting a smaller target.

A desperate maneuver and not quick enough.

The frigate's shield heated, dispersing the first bolt of superheated ionized gas. The

second strike hit bare hull, melting the shield arrays and sensors, boiling away layers of smooth blue armor-alloy.

"Fire energy projector," Voro commanded, "dead-center targeting solution."

"Aye, sir," Uruo said. "Projector spinning up—firing."

The bridge lights flickered to ultraviolet backup as all the
In-cormpdble's
power drained into one lance of destruction. It lit the space around the battle, a cleansing illumination. The
Tenebrous
appeared frozen in time for a moment… before the energy tore through its hull, blasting internal decks to atoms— amidships, and then the aft plasma coils—shattering the ship into a haze of glowing particles.

The surviving Jiralhanae frigate, the
Twilight Compunction,
however, was untouched… and it continued toward them.

"Recycling engine power," Zasses said. "Fifteen seconds until engine back online."

Fifteen seconds could be a lifetime in a close-quarter space battle.

"Depressurize Seraph launch bay fourteen," Voro shouted. "Dump plasma from auxiliary coils into the lateral lines."

"Plasma diverted," Uruo answered, his face flushing purple. "Emergency depressurization—now."

A tremble ran through the ship as the bay vented. Propelled by the sudden outgassing of their atmosphere, they turned toward the surviving frigate. The
Incorruptible's
lateral lines appeared to heat.

The
Twilight Compunction's
engines flared and it turned, maneuvering behind a nearby destroyer for cover.

They were retreating—as they should when presented with superior firepower… even if that power was an illusion.

Voro wondered if the Jiralhanae Ship Master, Gargantum, had been aboard the
Tenebrous,
or if he had sent it ahead as a decoy.

The carrier, the
Lawgiver,
turned, and lasers stitched the frigate. Several beams painted its hull, heating the shields— before another destroyer crossed the line of fire.

"Main coil reenergized," Uruo said.

"New course two seven zero by zero zero zero. Break fleet formation. We cannot fight without destroying our allies as well as our enemies."

The
Incorruptible
turned and accelerated to a position three hundred kilometers over the fleet. Several ships fired upon one another, but many just drifted, unsure what action to take.

Their leaders, the Prophets, were missing; some said they had left to partake in the Great foumey. Rumors abounded they had actually aligned with the Jiralhanae.

There was, however, an even greater threat.

The holographic arc of Halo appeared on the main viewer. Four destroyers stood near, abeam, and targeted hundreds of smaller craft—Phantoms, Spirits, and even Banshees— that attempted to evacuate the surface of the ring structure. They burned these craft with plasma bombardment and flashes of laser fire… but there were too many trying to escape.

Nothing could be allowed to leave that place. If a single

Flood-infected vessel transitioned to Slipspace—their existence would end. The plague would never again be contained.

"Get me a fleetwide COM channel," he told Y'gar. "Use the Prophets' own frequencies."

"Signal acquired," Y'gar said. "Ready for fleetwide broadcast."

Voro spoke: "This is Ship Master Voro 'Mantakree of the
Incorruptible
to all loyal vessels in the Second Fleet of Homogeneous Clarity.

"Brothers, we must cast out our confusion, and cease falling upon one another. The holy relic is tainted. We must burn the corruption before it takes us all.

"Zasses," he ordered, "send coordinating target solutions to the fleet." He motioned over the main holographic viewer, selecting portions of the Halo ring where dozens of Spirits were slipping away. "We must stop them before they make contact with one of those destroyers."

"Aye, sir. Targeting solutions sent."

The majority of the fleet, sluggish and disoriented, slowly aligned into a coherent fighting force: plasma arced from a hundred ships, and laser fire weaved lacy patterns on the dark of space.

Under such a destructive salvo of combined fire, the smaller ships burned—leaving only debris and skeletal frames.

"Do not close with the targets," Voro said over FLEETCOM. "Or the disease will spread." His hands grasped the command console.

To the Lekgolo pair Voro whispered, "Sweep the ship, continuous patrol, until I order otherwise. Report any hull breach no matter how slight. Any deaths. Anything that might be Flood infection."

The Xida Lekgolos nodded and they lumbered off the bridge, hands flexing in

anticipation.

"Uruo," Voro said, "ready the self-destruct sequence. We must be prepared."

Uruo nodded, his maw working nervously, but he set plasma coils to detonation mode.

"All ready," he replied.

"One of the destroyers near the ring is hailing the fleet," Y'a-gar said.
"Rapturous Arc.
"

Static crackled and over that a whisper;
"This is Ship Master of the
Rapturous Arc.
We

are overwhelmed. Do not allow them to make us their instruments. I will not
—"

The signal terminated.

The
Rapturous Arc
moved, wheeled toward the stars, and then continued to turn toward the other three destroyers abeam of Halo. It touched one of its brother ships, energy shields shimmered, frequencies matched, and the Flood-infected ship released a swarm of bulbous carrier forms.

Over FLEETCOM Voro said, "Retarget. Burn those ships."

Voro then ordered Uruo, "Heat lines and target projector."

"Targeting solutions ready," Uruo announced.

Voro could take no chance. "Fire," he said.

Plasma and energy projectors fired from a dozen nearby ships and painted the two vessels. The destroyers' shields collapsed—decks mushroomed outward from the aft engine compartments—a wave of illumination that flared white, and then cooled to smoky afterimages.

"New targets," he told Uruo, indicating the other two destroyers near the ring. "Coordinate targeting solutions throughout the fleet.

Uruo hesitated only a moment, and then nodded. "Locked and ready. Targeting solutions sent, sir."

Those last two ships had been too close to their infected counterparts. There was no margin for error here. Not even a single Flood-infected cell could escape.

"Sir," Y'gar said, and stood straighter, "targeted destroyers have
dissipated
their shields."

Voro nodded, nearly overcome with the nobility of his brother Ship Masters.

"Send the order fleetwide," he whispered. "Fire all lines and lasers. Discharge projectors."

Plasma lines heated, detached, and swarmed off the hull of the
Incorruptible
and the Second Fleet. Energy projectors fired and peeled off the ships' armor in a flash. Lasers peppered their boiling hulls, and air vented, sending it into a tumble. Plasma bolts impacted, squirting through the holes, and igniting the vessels.

"Another round," Voro commanded. "Burn them to ashes."

More plasma impacted and the doomed vessels spun toward the Halo structure,

captured by its gravity. It would be their pyre.

"Back the
Incorruptible
off," Voro ordered. "Thirty thousand kilometers."

Over INTERSHIPCOM Voro linked to the Xida Lekgolo pair. "Report."

Paruto spoke: "No breaches detected. All ship personal accounted for. No taint exists."

Voro exhaled. There might yet be hope they could survive.

"Detecting the
Twilight Compunction,
sir," Y'gar said, "and two other Jiralhanae frigates

on an intercept course. Their lateral lines are hot."

The crisis was not yet over but already they returned to the old hatreds. Voro scrutinized the fleet and saw others turning and firing on ships they had only moments ago fought side

by side with.

"Make ready to transition to Slipspace," Voro ordered.

"With respect, sir," Y'gar whispered. "We are leaving the battle?"

"To stay here and fight until we are all dead is madness. Everything had changed. We

will heed the summons of Imperial Admiral Xytan 'jar Wattinree. We must warn them what has happened… the jiralhanae, the Flood."

"Slipspace matrix energized," Zasses said. He shook his head, confused. "Anomalies detected in dimension YED-4, sir… cause undetermined."

"Can we safely transition?" Voro asked.

"Unknown, sir."

Slipstream space dimensions didn't exhibit "anomalies." Was this something caused by the holy ring? There was no time to investigate. They'd have to risk it.