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| - CPO Mendez: The first of the Prowlers are in orbit. Do you want me to gather the teams tonight or wait until morning?
LCDR Ambrose: Call the team leaders in for a quick briefing, but let the others rest. It'll take time to get the Pelicans ready to ferry them up anyway. We messed with their sleeping hours enough during the training, don't you think?
CPO Mendez: A good way of keeping them on their toes, sir. But I agree. They've worked hard since the CHRYSANTHEMUM procedures. They deserve a full night's rest.
LCDR Ambrose: The higher ups aren't particularly pleased about the staggered deployment schedule. Ackerson's the only thing keeping the brass from sending a frigate to collect them all in one fell swoop.
CPO Mendez: Heh. That's because he thinks we're keeping a few back for extra observation. He doesn't want us fielding faulty Spartans.
LCDR Ambrose: It's not a lie, not really. The top honors tournament is giving us plenty of combat data to work with. We still need to start arranging the revised curriculum for the Delta cycle. Besides, most of them have been looking forward to this tournament for a long time. I don't see any reason to take that away from them.
CPO Mendez: An admirable sentiment, sir. I'm just not sure we can afford to think that way anymore, especially with the reports coming in about Reach. The UNSC needs these Spartans now, more than ever.
LCDR Ambrose: The UNSC can wait just a few days longer. These Spartans have given everything to us. I won't deny them this. Besides, most of the corollaries to the chief deployment order call for small strike teams, not company level assets. I have Tom and Lucy clocking overtime to get the right team combinations from the ones who've already been knocked out of the top honors bracket.
CPO Mendez: You sound relieved, sir.
LCDR Ambrose: You know as well as I do that small-scale deployments mean we aren't looking at a meat grinder this time around. At least, not yet.
CPO Mendez: I understand, sir. With things looking the way they are, ONI will be looking to conserve them as much as possible.
LCDR Ambrose: These ones will survive, Chief. They have to. We've done the best we can with them, weeded out the problems from the Alpha and Beta curricula. And with the additional frontal lobe augments...
CPO Mendez: They have a fighting chance, sir. That's all we can ask for. But in the meantime, I've also got the progress reports from the Headhunters and our special operatives as well. The ones who haven't shipped out already will go alongside the regular teams.
LCDR Ambrose: Good, good. They've already been briefed?
CPO Mendez: Saw to it myself. Once Tom and Lucy have the teams organized, I'll call in the team leaders, let them know what's going on. Oh, and about Reach...
LCDR Ambrose: Practically nothing's coming out of the Eridanus system.
CPO Mendez: Not through official channels, sir. But I have my sources. NOBLE is holding the line. ECHO and GAUNTLET teams, too.
LCDR Ambrose: I should have known the Army would call them in. Carter and the others are proof that our Spartans are worthy successors to the Twos.
CPO Mendez: Carter and the others don't need to prove a thing, sir. We wouldn't put them out there if we didn't think they could match up to the Twos. If anything, they're better.
LCDR Ambrose: And NOBLE team... Tess is meshing well?
CPO Mendez: From the sound of things, yes. You made the right call, transferring her to NOBLE.
LCDR Ambrose: It was a risk. But risks pay off. And we can't afford not to take risks, even now.
CPO Mendez: Yes, sir. I'll check up on Tom and Lucy now, see how they're doing and review what they've got.
LCDR Ambrose: Very good, Chief. Dismissed.
- Codename: MOSES: I take it you've already heard the news.
Codename: SURGEON: A few hours ago, yes. Red Sea. If protocol had been followed, this wouldn't be happening. They should have evacuated that place the minute the first Covenant landing parties arrived on Tantalus.
Codename: MOSES: Evacuation came up, yes, but the staff dragged their heels. Didn't want to abandon all their little pet projects. But no one was expecting this. The Covenant haven't had any units active anywhere near Red Sea. Not even made a move on the region yet.
Codename: SURGEON: Of course not. This was a surgical strike. The Covenant figured out where the facility was obviously gauged its importance. ONI keeps underestimating their intelligence capabilities, and now we have an alien task force keeping our naval assets away from the site. And since they're occupying the place rather than leveling it, they know they're sitting on a data goldmine.
Codename: MOSES: I guess I shouldn't be surprised that bombing the place is out of the question.
Codename: SURGEON: Even if we could get a missile down there, it's too variable. I take it you've already seen my initial report.
Codename: MOSES: Yes. I've already diverted the secondary assets you've required. As for the primary assets...
Codename: SURGEON: They were already facing deployment in-system. You can expect them within the hour.
Codename: MOSES: I can't argue with Spartan assets, but... Gamma? They haven't even been deployed a full month.
Codename: SURGEON: They wouldn't have been made operational if they weren't ready. The ones I've sent will get the job done. It's not Noble Team, but they are Spartans.
Codename: MOSES: Understood. I've got the op ready. There's just the matter of Red Sea's safety...
Codename: SURGEON: The loss of the facility and its projects is regrettable, but this is damage control. Knowing you, I trust that that's been factored into the operation. If the Spartans can save some surviving staff, maybe recover some data, wonderful. But I want Red Sea erased.
Codename: MOSES: Count on me. I'll get it done.
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| abstract
| - "Oh, God, please, I don't want to--" Bernard Dalthorn covered his head and choked back a scream as Chang's cry was drowned out by the whine of plasma fire. From where he cowered behind a potted plant he saw his colleague topple to the floor, a smoking hole burnt through his torso. More plasma shots hissed through the room, cutting down the laboratory technicians who tried to make a run for the hallway. He could hear the aliens shouting in the corridor. Guttural barks, savage hissing, high pitched chirps and whines; Bernard recognized them all from the security briefings and news vids. The Covenant had breached Red Sea. Several pairs of feet—or claws or talons or whatever it was these monsters walked on—scuttled into the room. Bernard fought the urge to scream as the invaders plugged more plasma bursts into the corpses of Chang and his companions. He thrust himself even closer to the ground, hoping against hope that the floor itself might open up and swallow him whole. In another moment they'd find him, and then he'd be lucky if he got a death as quick as the others. A door at the other end of the room slid open. The Covenant soldiers squawked in surprise as gunfire—beautiful, clattering gunfire—split the air. Bernard risked a glance around the plant in time to see three avian Jackals fall amidst their victims. The troopers who had killed them darted into the room. They were dark-armored Navy security, or at least two of them were. The third was a woman wearing nothing but a standard Navy uniform. Bernard scrambled to his feet as he saw the emblem of a lieutenant on her shoulder. "Lieutenant Morenz," he gasped, trying to hold back his nausea at the site of his colleagues' mangled bodies. "Thank God you're here." The last time he'd seen Morenz, she'd been manning a desk outside his work room. Now she held a sidearm and directed a fire team of three security troopers as they took up positions by the doorway. Her uniform was torn and scorched in several places and her hair, usually pinned up to precise military standards, was ragged and askew. "Mr. Dalthorn," she replied, her voice tight. "You need to get out of here. Pull back to Bravo Wing, this area's already overrun." Bernard stepped gingerly over corpses, wincing as blood stuck to his loafers. "Overrun? What are you talking about?" "We just lost contact with the command center." Morenz looked away from Bernard and back down the hall. "Our fireteams keep reporting new breaches all over the facility. We've put out a distress call, but until they can send reinforcements we need to get you and the other civilians to safety." Plasma fire echoed down the hall. Morenz and the troopers stiffened, taking aim and searching for the unseen enemy. Bernard stood amidst the corpses. He felt utterly helpless. He was unarmed, unarmored; even if he did have a weapon, he barely knew how to operate a pistol, let alone a rifle or one of the Covenant's bizarre weapons. He was useless. All these years I've spent designing weapons to fight the Covenant, he thought bitterly. And now that they show up, I can't do a thing to stop them. How fitting. "Mr. Dalthorn," Morenz said again, the edge in her voice sharpening. "Get out of here." "How could this happen?" Bernard asked. He stepped over the bodies, backing away towards the door the troopers had come through. "How could they get so many warriors this deep into--" "Doesn't matter," Morenz snapped. "Get to Bravo Wing. Helios is coordinating the defense. If that damned AI doesn't unseal the classified wings I'm going to--" Bernard never found out what Morenz planned to do to the facility's coordinating AI. Something hissed in the corridor outside and then two silver prongs came out of nowhere and ran the lieutenant clean through. The security troopers yelled in alarm as the energy sword withdrew. Morenz sank to her knees, arms wrapped around her gut, as a burst of plasma fire scorched the nearest trooper's face off. The two remaining troopers fired wildly into the hall. Bernard could only watch in horror as their bullets clattered off a wall of energy that erupted directly in front of them. Shrouded in its energy shield, the hunched form of a Covenant Elite faded into view as the bullets overwhelmed its active camouflage unit. The red-armored alien towered over the stricken lieutenant and her fire team. Bernard froze, halfway through the door. Even from across the room he could see the warrior's reptilian eyes gleaming as it surveyed the carnage before it. The four mandibles that composed the alien's mouth spread in a hideous facsimile of a human smile. The Elite raised its plasma rifle and blasted one trooper across the room with a burst of plasma. Its sword swept back up and cut through the remaining man's body armor like a hot knife through butter. The warrior stepped past the dying trooper, its eyes scanning the room until they settled on Bernard. The researcher froze. The Elite's mandibles moved in some alien gesture as it moved further into the room. Bernard's eyes flicked from the warrior's eyes to its sword to its plasma rifle and then back again. His hands shook; his body felt as if it were made of ice. This was the end. Even if he fled now, the Elite would overtake him in two strides and cut him to pieces. Why hadn't he fled when he had the chance...? From where she still knelt on the floor, Morenz let out an agonized whimper. One of her hands stretched out, reaching for her fallen pistol. The Elite glanced back, as if only just remembering that she was still alive. It clicked its mandibles and, with the disinterest of an afterthought, stretched its plasma rifle out and shot the lieutenant through the back. The sound of the blast shook Bernard out of his stupor. He turned and sprinted through the corridor and down the hallway. The Elite would be on top of him at any second, but he didn't care anymore. If he could just get through the corridor, if he could just make it to B-Wing... He slammed into the wing access door at the end of the corridor. Plasma fire echoed down the hallway behind him. With a desperate cry he slammed his hand against the biometric scanner. Nothing happened. "Come on!" he screamed, striking his palm down on the scanner again and again. He had come so close, why wasn't it working? The intercom system above the doors clicked on. "All personnel," rasped the voice of Helios, Red Sea's resident artificial intelligence. "Be advised, Covenant presence detected in all wings of the facility. Security teams, switch to emergency protocol bravo. I will delay them as long as I can." Bernard struck the panel so hard his hand went numb. What did Helios mean, all wings? Morenz had said B-Wing was safe. It had to be, her team had just come from there. The intercom hissed. Helios's voice scraped over the speakers again, but this time it was fainter, more urgent. "Be advised, the Covenant have breached my servers. They are cutting off my access to the mainframe. Initiating self-decommissioning as per the Cole Protocol. Transferring systems access to--" The intercom fell silent. Helios was gone. With a sob of desperation, Bernard slumped against the panel. It was over. He was going to die here. All his research, all his years of work here at Red Sea, it would all amount to nothing more than ashes and scorched plasma residue. Something was moving in the corridor behind him. Bernard didn't look back. Just make it quick, he begged silently. Don't let me feel it. He was going to die, it was the only thing he could hope for. Above him, the intercom crackled to life. "What are you doing?" a new voice demanded. Bernard looked up, stunned. This new speaker was a woman, young from the sound of it but with a hard edge of authority to her voice. "Don't just stand there, run!" Bernard nearly fell over as the door slid open. He scrambled on his hands and knees through the doorway, practically sobbing with relief. "Thank you... thank you!" "Don't waste time, you have to run!" the voice ordered. Bernard was all too happy to obey. He scrambled to his feet and fled down the hallway. There was no sign of anyone, human or Covenant, but after his close shave with death Bernard welcomed the empty corridor. "The distress call the facility put out has been received," the voice explained, speaking to him through the station's PA system. "It will take a few hours, but help will come. I know they'll send reinforcements." "A few hours?" Bernard didn't know if he should be horrified or relieved. "So I just have to stay alive for a few hours?" "Don't worry," the voice said. "I may be shackled, but I can help you. Just get to this wing's data control center and we'll work from there." "Shackled?" Bernard slowed his pace. He was already out of breath; for years his only source of exercise had been the treks from one research wing to another. "You're an AI?" "Helios wasn't the only unit assigned here," the AI told him. "I'm afraid your clearance level wasn't high enough for you to know about me." Bernard wasn't surprised. In all the years he'd worked for the Office of Naval Intelligence, he'd grown used to all their secrets and paranoia. No matter how high you climbed on the clearance ladder, there was always another realm of things you weren't supposed to know about just above you. "And now?" he panted, approaching a corner. "I'd say a Covenant raid is worth a few breaches in clearance levels," the AI replied evenly. "Call me Juno." "Alright, Juno." Bernard rounded the corner. An elevator hummed a few yards away. That would take him down a few levels to the data center this "Juno" had told him about. "I guess that makes you my guardian angel, huh?" "It isn't my place to judge," Juno said. She sounded pensive, not quite as certain of herself as she had a few moments ago. Bernard walked towards the elevator, wondering at her sudden change in tone. "But perhaps you don't deserve an angel, Bernard Dalthorn. Of any sort." Bernard glanced up at the ceiling's speakers, blinking with surprise. What was Juno talking about? Could she know about... The elevator's doors slid open before he could reach them. A troop of Covenant, a mix of the avian Jackals and the stocky, gas-mask clad Grunts stared at him in surprise. Bernard froze. "Run!" Juno ordered, the edge of command back in her voice. The lift doors slid shut far earlier than they normally would have, but several of the alien soldiers had already leaped out into the hallway. There was nothing to do but obey. Bernard turned on his heel and sprinted down the corridor. There was no confusion now, only the old, desperate fear. Plasma blasts and needle rounds streaked all around him. Bernard could do nothing but duck his head, run, and pray that he really did deserve a guardian angel after all.
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