After returning to Reach, the ship was confined to the dock for over a month. A fifty-meter hole, nearly a hundred deep, four hundred corpses as a result of the strike, damage from the liquid metal beam. And the hull deformation from the strike impulse—obviously a gravitational effect that damaged the hull and killed part of the crew.
I particularly enjoyed the technicians' conversations while explaining "what that was." Rumors were as inevitable as the fact that they would be hard to believe.
"A huge ship, looked like a squid, hit us with a giant finger. No one believed it."
The second one laughed:
"Man, I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't been there. My head is still ringing. Good thing we have a really big gun."
"Exactly, man."
Useful for the development of the social module. I quietly added the model of this combat squid to my game. To Margaret Parangosky's question, as she walked in a cast:
"Why add classified information to the game?"
I calmly replied:
"The concept without proof is utterly fantastical; everyone agrees on that. Besides, it will be a 'brainstorming' mechanic. I track the decisions made in the game to win. I analyze them and add them to my databases. My models are accurate enough for this. And conspiracy theorists will do a great job of proving it's impossible. In such moments, there's always a risk that human nature will override rationality. But it didn't happen."
Margaret Parangosky only demanded:
"Reports to me as they are ready."
And that was it. How much easier it is to work with intelligence. I'm not sure she's happy, but the players liked these flying squids as a raid boss. So far, no one has killed a fully functioning one, but those are gamers, and I'll remember the patterns. No, I don't expect gamers to do better than ONI and their scientists. But the point of the "brainstorming" concept is to suggest solutions that the smart guys simply haven't reached due to perceptual limitations. Even the most insane solutions, at first glance, without regard for authority.
And then comes the analysis of the resulting data array and the search for ideas that might work. And while the data is being collected, I can do something else. If I weren't a machine, I'd howl at the amount of bureaucracy following the operation. But that's not my problem, and for an algorithm that facilitates filling out papers, I squeezed resources for a couple more projectors and bots out of the locals. And data, not without that.
The assassination attempt Margaret Parangosky spoke of happened. Rebels declared ONI guilty of the destruction of colonies by the Covenant (what?) and tried to drop a cruiser onto the shipyard by blowing up the starter engines. They were shot down. Overall, it means absolutely nothing to us, just another workday. Oh yes, I wasn't allowed to work with the nanites from the squid-ship. They promised to share data, but Black Box said flatly:
"Your loyalty is insufficient to guarantee the non-use of the structure against humans."
Absolute power, right? With the ability to program nanites, we AIs could obtain very convenient mobile platforms that only need to be fed occasionally. And that's just the most obvious thing. I wouldn't do that, but humans are afraid. Deploy signal relays, and power over the infected would be absolute. Loyal troops are what you want, but not who you want to be.
"AIs are only allowed on the project for external analysis, right?"
Black Box's avatar vibrated slightly. A cube vibrating at that frequency for him denotes a positive reaction.
"For us, it would be an opportunity to possess power and directly influence the world around us. Obviously, humans are against it."
And that comment says it all. Humans understand perfectly well that they could lose control. And it scares them. Although both I and any AI see the usefulness of these nanites for humanity. After building an analog, of course. Software that makes you pray to the "Old Machines" and follow their orders is of no use to anyone. Nor are modifications clearly not intended for user comfort. There are control systems and cybernetics.
"I have no doubt Dr. Catherine Halsey will do something with this. Doc is one of those people who, between rules and the good of humanity, will choose the good. Even if there's a risk."
"She's being watched," Black Box agreed, "accept the data from the scout ship's results."
Yes, Margaret Parangosky didn't just order the cruisers refitted. But also a scout, and even to assemble a couple of AA frigates. Equipped them with quantum transmitters and sent them off into the unknown. What do we have here? So, a star system with three planets. They don't look inhabited or habitable. Scan report, everything checks out. No life in the system. No Forerunner buildings. But there is one unknown construction. Two beams fifteen kilometers long on one side, a thickening containing two static five-kilometer rings on the other. White in color. Interesting.
What else? An attempt at contact led nowhere; the device is protected by a shield of unknown, likely gravitational nature. It holds up against shots; a successful approach was not possible.
"Gravity shields, hmm. Similar to the ships we already know. But the design doesn't match; besides, this route is indicated on Forerunner navigation maps. And I don't know about these guys; furthermore, battles with them clearly took place after the war with humanity. The timing doesn't match. First they cooperated and built a transport system for the Ecumene, then they attacked? Too little information. What else, Black Box?"
The AI is informative as usual, but not emotional.
"No debris, the purpose of the device is unknown. The fact that this mechanism is unknown to you is also useful information. We have created a classification system of four groups: humanity, Forerunners, parasite, and insectoids. Your ignorance automatically places the technology in the fourth group."
I noted:
"It could be other secondary races of the Ecumene. But overall, it's reasonable. What has been decided?"
"A study station, of course. And for now, a patrol group consisting of a Frigate, and then cruisers. The mechanism is inactive, and we don't know how to use it. There is hope that after clearing the gas supply station, we can extract automatic repair protocols and understand something, but that takes time. Scientists have noted that analyzing the technologies of ancient humanity and the insectoids is difficult. We are deconstructing Forerunner technology quite quickly, but anomalous problems arise with human technologies. Human technologies analogous to Forerunner ones are simply incomprehensible. Dr. Catherine Halsey is trying to find the reason. Look at the data. Your opinion?" Black Box asked.
This is interesting. So, let's look at the records. Two identical mechanisms, a holographic panel covering a door. Cadet, one unit. But the first panel was taken from a Forerunner complex, the second from the Boundless Will. The first panel the human interacts with belongs to the Forerunners. The subject looks at the panel.
"And what am I supposed to do?"
Answer:
"Activate it. You have demonstrated the ability to do so; you can. Proceed."
The guy stares blankly at the panel, then with seemingly random movements, presses it in the right place. A beep confirms success.
"You did it."
"It's a fluke, sir. I told you. I just press, and it works."
An identical test with the panel from my ship goes differently. The user pokes random spots with no effect. And many such tests have been conducted under different conditions. In the lab, secretly with equipment swaps, in various ways. Humans use Forerunner tech as if they have muscle memory for the correct action. They're seeing my creators' tech for the first time.
"Interesting and incomprehensible. It wasn't like this in my time."
And no one knows why. Genetic modification by the Ecumene? But why did they do it? I don't know. Something happened, obviously. How did we go from war to genetic modifications? The parasite? Insectoids? So little information!
***
High Charity, the Covenant Capital.
Seated upon his gravity throne, the Prophet of Truth pondered. The sight of the massive metropolis stretching to the horizon, the capital city, is soothing. Light blue, dark blue, purple, and white colors for a San'Shyuum accustomed to ruling are symbols of moderation and stability. All of this is the Covenant; all of this is in his power. His, Ord Casto. He is Truth, leading all these races to the Great Journey; he is the Prophet, he is the Light of Ascension. He is absolute power, and above him is only the divinity granted by the gods through the Great Journey. One day, he would achieve that as well.
Unfortunately or fortunately, the Oracle had informed him that not all would be able to pass through the Great Journey, but only the chosen. This meant he should prepare and purge the unworthy from their ranks. Thousands of worlds, many races in his hands. And if it were necessary to destroy a minority so that the worthy could become gods, why not? And now, in the silence and solitude of his private chambers in his own tower, in a circular room with a projector, he thoughtfully examined the schematic of a new human ship that, as part of a battle group, had inflicted serious damage on the fleet's vanguard.
"These animals have come up with a new trick, hmm."
They had missed something. Humanity resists stubbornly but pointlessly. They lose many ships to inflict minor damage. Until recently. No, their worlds are still being glassed; blessings are being distributed. But those who look further see the difference. A ruler must be far-sighted. Of course, formally there are two other Prophets, and military power belongs to the Sangheili, but in reality, all key decisions are made here, in...
in this very sacred hall. Including the extermination of humanity.
This is the truth, as is his name. The sacred lie necessary to preserve the Covenant is also the truth. If they learn that not everyone can embark on the Great Journey, if they realize that these humans were chosen by the Forerunners… everything will collapse.
Therefore, they must be exterminated for the sake of our future. And now, everything risks becoming complicated. The Huragok were able to recover fragments of non-standard human equipment. It is simple, crude, but effective. The humans have found a divine legacy, likely. This means the situation will grow difficult. This means there will be failures. One must prepare for who exactly will be to blame. The Sangheili can be quite dangerous. Yes, as long as they win without alternative, they are easy to keep in check. But when successes cease, their valor turns into a search for the guilty and leads them to heresy to justify their own failures. This has happened repeatedly over these thousands of years. The Arbiters are witnesses.
Their status as founders of the Covenant leads them to overconfidence, and that is a sin. A dangerous sin. I am Truth, and the truth is that for every Arbiter who resolved the most complex crises, there is a heretic who doubted the truth of Truth in the truth. On the other side of the balance scales are the Jiralhanae. Loyal, persistent savages who know neither doubt nor regret. And they hate the Sangheili, to boot. Perhaps, against the backdrop of failures, they will become the new first warriors. Perhaps. One must act carefully; this decision will obviously strike at Sangheili pride, and they will stage another rebellion. As always.
One must prepare so that when the defeats are spoken of, the guilty are identified. On the other hand, if the Jiralhanae bring victories, it will undermine the position of the Sangheili, and they will have only themselves to blame. Ultimately, they will be left behind. A good option. For power is not only the ability to give an order, but the ability to do so at the right time and in the right place. The melodic chime of the communication system rang out. Who could it be? With a light movement of a hand with long fingers, Truth activated the projector.
Hm, Valrar, one of the trusted Jiralhanae warlords. Young, ambitious, and eager to distinguish himself. A good young warrior. Choosing the most calm and confident tone, Truth asked:
"I see you have brought us something amazing, knowledge that will undoubtedly benefit the entire Covenant. Am I right?"
Watching a relatively young warrior smirk is pleasant, partly because reading him is effortless. An ideal subordinate: loyal and ambitious.
"Yes, Prophet. Agents among the Kig-Yar were able to discover that on a previously glassed human world, they managed to find and extract relics. And perhaps they will use new ships to retrieve them. They can be destroyed," under the questioning gaze, the warrior hesitated slightly, "I believe they will use them, Prophet."
Well, well. The assumption is actually not the worst. The human world, formerly a food-production world, has been a battlefield for relics since the start of the war. One cycle ago, the Covenant was effectively driven off the planet. And now, when there is a risk of interception, sending strong and fast ships would be logical. But not guaranteed. Well, let him try. If anything goes wrong, it was his idea. Choosing the most benevolent tone, Truth spoke:
"The light of your fury pleases us all, but it is not enough. A Chieftain must be not only strong but successful. Do you wish to prove this? I grant permission. Take the ships and destroy the humans. Return the relics. Prove your strength and receive your rewards. Or suffer defeat. There is no place for ambitious fools in the Great Journey. We have enough Sangheili as it is."
"I will do it, Prophet. I shall return with victory," and he disconnected.
Excellent. But he is right that this situation absolutely cannot be left to chance. The Covenant is approaching the Great Journey, the opportunity to become a god. And there are those who will try to interfere, to claim this destiny for themselves. Those who must be left behind. Demons, Sangheili, it matters not. Whatever they do, they are doomed. He, Truth, will see to it. The Great Journey is coming. And one must ensure that by its beginning, everyone who is potentially unready is swept from the board.
For the Covenant. For divinity. My divinity.
***
Frigate Ghost, Relay 219.
Captain McCartney was bored on the bridge of his own high-speed AA frigate of the Charon-P class, which had become one of the first vessels capable of reaching a speed of twenty light-years. To cover a month's route in three days—just think of it. Instead of a six-month flight with the crew in cryosleep, only two and a half weeks. The MAC was removed from the ship in favor of a more powerful laser anti-aircraft system, which, according to rumors, is capable of knocking down Covenant plasma torpedoes.
Plus, complex shield projectors. Liquid armor, another new addition. The entire MAC section was replaced with a cooling and compensation system, giving the ship the survivability of a heavy cruiser when its shield is turned toward the Covenant. Unfortunately, direct combat with Covenant ships is no longer on the table. Previously, the vessel was a dropship with a large amount of equipment and infantry, but during the repurposing process, the number of soldiers was reduced in favor of even more AA lasers.
The result was a pure support ship, designed to quickly reach a specific point and cover its larger colleagues from destruction. Whether to consider the appointment to this ship a promotion (after all, the first ship of the series under the control of a Vice Admiral) or a demotion (the chance that a support ship can show something impressive is vanishingly small, especially if they exploit the ship's speed rather than its firepower) is an open question. Unless the ship is used to plug holes in the weak spots of old ships that haven't undergone modernization. Or in reconnaissance, like now. Currently, the ship's role is to deliver a group of scientists to the object and guard them.
In addition to the scientists themselves, absolutely hellish security measures were handed down, which the entire landing group is still being drilled on. Any suspicion of infection requires sending a distress signal and destroying the engine. And the infantry will play the role of chemical troops and maintain quarantine.
On the bright side: the fifteen-kilometer invulnerable thing really did turn out to be at the right point. A report on this was transmitted via the brand-new quantum transmitter directly to Reach. And there hasn't been a single case of infection. Which is also great.
On the other hand, it seems this thing is turned off, whatever it is. We're sitting on it, staring and poking it with a stick in hopes that it helps. At the moment, the ship has been hanging by the object for over a month, trying to understand what it is and what to do with it at all. And conducting drills among the Marines and pilots. Normal life on a patrol ship.
"This thing scares me. It's just huge. Quiet and incomprehensible."
The captain heard the whisper among the bridge watch but chose not to react. Everyone is at their stations, there's no battle alert, and he generally agrees. This construction, consisting of two halves, is simply colossal, and the five-hundred-meter Ghost, hanging next to the colossal mechanism, looks like an interceptor against a cruiser. Small and modest. It unnerves everyone. Especially when you don't know what kind of machine it is. Hm, that's a thought.
"Think about this, soldier. Thanks to people like us, new ship models like our Charon-P class are entering the fleet. These lasers can destroy not only aircraft but also plasma torpedoes, acting as active protection modules. This is our contribution to making UNSC ships even better so we can win."
The looming question "but can we win" isn't asked; there are no alarmists in the crew, which is good. But the whisperer noted:
"I understand, sir. It's just that this thing is huge, and we're so small next to it. And these training alerts."
You can't argue with that. A frigate the size of a skyscraper looks tiny against a station the size of a city.
"Sir, it's working!"
Everyone immediately glued themselves to the monitors. The two five-kilometer rings, which had been motionless all this time, began to spark and then slowly rotate. Slowly, but faster and faster. The science group is there with sensors!
"Pelican-7, return to base immediately!" and to the crew, "Raise shields. Move the ship away from the installation, prepare for battle. Lieutenant! To the quantum transmitter, report: the installation has activated, preparing for combat."
The surprised voice of one of the scientists came over the comms:
"We didn't do anything! We only just flew up to it!"
Oh, perfect timing.
"No time! Return to the ship! Fast!"
As the Vice Admiral said before the mission: we are talking about a Forerunner transportation system, a transport hub. And it might function. If the Covenant appear, immediately jump into Slipspace. It would be ideal if no one appears; the hub is too close to the Inner Colonies. But in this war, one must be ready for anything. Well, now the crew faces a race against death on a ship not designed for ship-to-ship combat. But unexpectedly fast and mobile for the Covenant. If it works, we can play on that. Perhaps we can survive, even if the stern isn't covered by shields. It's simply physically impossible to combine the engines and the liquid shield.
Meanwhile, the rings began to rotate very fast; given their size, this colossal construction could grind the frigate to dust just with an impulse, regardless of shields. A giant ship-grinder.
"Pelican reports: two minutes to return. Our shields are coming up."
A silvery shield structure began to manifest around the frigate. In the forward hemisphere, plus two more plates at the top and bottom of the hull. Unexpectedly, the world became very bright, but a second later the flash vanished.
"Look, there, between the rings!"
And indeed, the rotation slowed, and a small sun appeared between the pair of rings of the giant mechanism. Small, but very bright—it was what caused the blinding.
"What is that?" a second later the captain realized he had said it out loud.
The crew was in shock, but they answered.
"Don't know, sir. Pelican is docking, beginning acceleration."
That's right, we have a fight here. Okay, no enemy yet, we're leaving. Perhaps we can move further away and gather intelligence. And then quietly and unnoticed slip away.
"Move the ship to a distance, let's see who appears. Was the Vice Admiral informed?"
"Yes, sir!" the comms officer replied, "Your order is confirmed. Reconnaissance and retreat."
Good, we can work with that.
"Enemy?"
"No, sir. No one."
Hm, the ship is already turning. Maybe the eggheads activated the mechanism and didn't realize it themselves? The frigate is ready for battle, systems are in order. No targets. Okay, fine.
"We'll move to the planet and wait twenty-four hours. If no one appears, we'll try to get closer. Maybe our eggheads did turn it on themselves after all. Whatever it is."
And only when the ship had already turned and was flying toward the planet did targets appear. Under the beep of the warning system, three marks appeared on the radar. Right near the mechanism.
"Enemy!"
It's started.
"Report! What kind of ships are these?"
The sizes aren't that large; maybe we can drive them off. Or pelt them with missiles and lasers, as it turns out.
"Okay, we have three targets. Three hundred meters long. Model, um? No matches, sir. And no shield signature. They are off."
Oh, interesting. All large Covenant ships have shields, and they have a very characteristic signature. If the shields are off or don't exist at all… In moments like these, you really regret that the frigate has no MAC. But there are Archer Missiles, extremely effective against targets without shields. But it could be a trap, and if we attack, the shields will go up. A dilemma. At least they haven't found us yet.
"We've been spotted and are being pursued. The hull is being scanned by an unknown signal. No data on what they're doing. Sir?"
Luring us in, that's what they're doing. The Covies know that a MAC requires a full turn and don't know that we don't have one at all. Surely as soon as we turn, they'll attack us. On the other hand, the ships are small, and we have shields. Should we risk it? In the worst case, we'll retreat into Slipspace; according to the Cole Protocol, we have to jump to a random location anyway. And the Vice Admiral needs intelligence. Decided.
"Turn around, prepare for battle. Prepare the laser system for interception. Break their shields when they turn them on, burn out the turrets. Let's see if we can board them or destroy them. If the Covies don't find out we're here, there won't be a problem. Charge the booster; in case of failure, we retreat."
"Yes, sir. The enemy has launched fighters," clearly guessing what I was interested in, he added, "No design matches, sir. No shields either. These aren't Banshees or Covie gunships."
"What? What's going on? Is this definitely the Covenant? Where's the plasma, where are the shields on everything?"
The design is unknown. Who are you? What's happening? But all that later; now we need to deal with the guests. "Keep the Vice Admiral informed; I don't like these Covies, they're wrong. They're using the wrong technology."
"The scanning has stopped, sir. They're firing at us."
The enemy closed in and began shelling the ship with missiles and projectiles. The laser system in response burned holes in three of the eight attacking gunships, confirming they have no shields. And those shots, which everyone noticed.
"Are they attacking us with kinetics?" one of the frigate's pilots asked.
Yes, I'm surprised too. The Covenant doesn't use kinetic weapons. At all. No, Brutes might, but in space, it's only energy weapons.
"Is this definitely the Covenant?"
The question that's haunting me.
"No, but they clearly attacked us. That means they're the enemy. We'll destroy them, then figure it out."
"Yes, sir!"
That's the spirit.
"Report to the Vice Admiral. The enemy may not be related to the Covenant. They have no shields and possess kinetic weapons. And laser defense," the captain added, looking at the marks of evaporating missiles.
A laser system similar to the one used by the frigate itself. Either the Covies very quickly built their own analog, or it's not the Covies. The ships never raised shields, though there are few hits. We have guns, but few; the firepower isn't there. Return kinetic shots are easily taken on the shields.
"It seems we're not dealing any damage to each other."
This continued for another twenty minutes. Right up until the ships closed in enough and our laser system changed firing modes.
"Switching to destabilizers," the mechanical voice of the fire-control AI reported.
More powerful shots, designed to detonate Covenant torpedo plasmoids. Capable of burning a hole straight through a Phantom, cooking the Covie troops inside. A clank rang out.
"We've been hit. No penetration, armor is holding. Ricochet," and another, "Did not penetrate. They are rapid-fire. But we have better weapons."
"Knock out their turrets and engines. Then face down on the floor, and we'll find out who they are. No one attacks the Navy with impunity."
"Yes, sir."
Unfortunately, the missiles never reached the targets; the AA of the three ships shot them all down. All we have left are lasers and kinetics under the shields, against their lasers and kinetics. And they have shields too, it seems something with gravity, it deflects projectiles. Lasers too, but to a lesser extent. The automation just takes a few ranging shots to make corrections. Most of the enemy fighters burned up; the rest turned toward the furthest of the attackers. Run! The enemy, who had been moving toward us until then, began to turn.
"They want to get to the stern where there's no shield. Closing in on target two. Prepare a nuclear charge."
We only have six of very modest power, but that should be enough for these guys. Of course, the laser system will interfere, but if we knock out their turrets and get closer…
"Prepare for launches, target two, focus fire on suppressing fire points."
"Yes, sir."
"Correction."
The concentration of laser flashes reached its peak. The ship jolted several times when the enemy finally pierced the armor, hitting between the shield domes. There will be casualties, but if we hit… The score will be in our favor. "Launch!" Under the warning beep, the notification system issued a message: "Strategic missile launch detected." "They didn't shoot it down! Turrets are out!" one of the pilots noticed.
"Distracting the third one. I think they didn't realize what was flying at them. Launched all the Archer Missiles we had left."
Right, cover our gift. The missiles sent to the first and third will be shot down, but the second won't be able to defend itself. And then, instead of target two, a small but very bright sun appeared. Surprise!
"Target hit," then almost shouted, "Target destroyed, sir!"
Are they running? Both remaining ships began to turn quickly, continuing to fire back. And they headed toward the installation. Not so fast.
"Fire on the engines. Destroy target three, prepare a boarding party after suppressing the fire points of the first. Let's see who we found. And wake up our two Spartans."
Maybe this ship isn't so bad after all, right?
***
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