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Other titles in the Halo series:
The Cole Protocol (Halo)by Tobias Buckell
UNSC DESTROYER ARMAGEDDONS EDGE,
OUTER FRINGES, ECTANUS 45 SYSTEM
Out of the cyrogenic darkness came a deep, crisp-sounding, but slightly amused voice. “Wakey, wakey, Professor.”
Jacob Keyes sat up and took his .rst deep breath. The gel mat underneath him .exed as he coughed out medical-tasting .uid from his lungs, gasping for a second breath of air in between the dry retching.
“Lieutenant,” Keyes coughed, his lungs protesting at his insistence of talking before theyd had a chance to clear themselves out fully. “Lieutenant Jacob Keyes.” In the classroom he was Instructor Keyes, but back here on the deck he wanted the proper rank accorded. Hed worked hard to get there in the years before hed been assigned to teaching due to injuries.
He sat inside a long pod, one of many laid out in a row. The rest of the crew of the Armageddons Edge were just starting to crawl out of their own pods.
The crew members helped each other out, cracking jokes as some violently coughed up the .uid that they had breathed in to prevent their bodies from being damaged by the cold of the frozen sleep. The on-duty of.cer squatted next to Keyes. A thin Navy lifer, Edgar Sykes was a pale man in his mid-.fties, with short-cropped gray hair and dark brown eyes that squinted with amusement at the chance to give Keyes some grief.
“How was your date with the Admirals wife, Lieutenant? Been a while since you were put on ice?”
Some of the other crew, already standing and pulling on clothes, glanced over with grins. Keyes had been in the classroom too long; he didnt get the joke.
“Im sorry?” Keyes asked. “The Admirals wife?”
Sykes pointed at the pod. “A frosty bed?”
Oh, Keyes thought. Thats what the crew called the pods now. Theyd just been called “freezers” the last time hed shipped out. “Not something you forget easily,” Keyes rasped, rubbing his arms for warmth. The chill of the cryogenic pod permeated every last cell. Even worse than the chill, however, were the old injuries from his time on the Meriwether Lewis that .ared up. The deep gouging plasma burn to his thigh, the shattered-thenrebuilt hand that he clenched and then opened again. They had sidelined him, and kept him in front of wide-eyed noncommissioned of.cers, playing the role of a classroom drill sergeant.
He carefully shifted himself to the side of the pod. The injuries had healed enough over time. Enough that on most days, now, they were only a faded memory, a twinge when he tried a little too hard in the gym. But the freezer seemed to bring it out more.
Sykes reached out a hand to help him as he noticed Keyess careful movement. Keyes looked at the man. “You asking me out on a date?”
That got a few chuckles from the crew. Sykes nodded. “Alright, Keyes. Welcome aboard Armageddons Edge.” He turned to the crew. “What the hell do you think youre all looking at?”
Eyes darted back as the crew resumed their tasks, and the chatter faded.
A smartly pressed gray uniform lay on the side of Keyess pod. He pulled it on, checking to make sure the double silver bars signifying Lieutenant were clipped on.
It felt good to be back in uniform, especially on deck.
As time passed from his service aboard the Meriwether Lewis he felt that the chances of being involved on the bridge of a ship again were slipping further away from him. It stung.
Still, at forty, Keyes made sure to get up early for his ten-mile run, and he hit the weight room at least three times a week. He was terri.ed of getting soft.
Hed learned, back when the Meriwether Lewis had been boarded, that it gave him an edge. Even if the edge today remained his ability to outrun his students in physical training, it was still useful in that it earned their respect.
Service was service. If the Navy needed Lieutenant Jacob Keyes to serve out the next couple of decades teaching navigators how to .y their ships, then that was what they needed him for.
Everyone had their place, their role to play.
With the alien forces destroying planet after planet, with people giving their lives just to slow them down, Keyes felt there was no room for self-pity.
He reserved those darker moments for thinking about things like his sister, out there on the Outer Colony of Dwarka. Wondering about her fate ever since the colony had gone silent, too far away for the UNSC to even try to defend.
When hed gotten the orders to leave Luna, hed only taken the time to visit his daughter, Miranda. The last time hed had orders to ship out somewhere he hadnt had family of his own. He was just an eager, young man. Now it felt like he had to tear himself away. Hed grown accustomed to picking her up every day and bringing her back to the small on-base apartment they shared.
Hed kissed Miranda good-bye and let her know shed have to stay at the dorms in her school, just like all the other children with family on duty.
She was a good Navy kid—she actually perked up at the news and asked what ship he was .ying out on.
Someone cleared their throat behind Keyes. He turned to .nd a man standing there in full pilots kit, helmet slung under one arm. The pilot saluted. “Good morning, sir. Im Petty Of.cer Jeffries. Im taking you dirtside.”
Keyes leaned forward and tugged at the pilots bedraggled uniform. “I hope you dont .y as sloppy as you dress.” Some ships, like the Armageddons Edge, ran a little off kilter. Captains prerogative. What mattered to many at command was their battle performance, and Keyes had heard the Edge had limped back to Earth with pride for a full re.t after it had paired with another ship to take out a Covenant Destroyer.
Still, Keyes felt it didnt hurt to make a point.
“If you cant bother to fasten your buttons, keep your insignia on straight, and follow procedure, why should I feel safe getting in your bird?”
“Sir, because my uniform doesnt have to drop soldiers off in hot zones. Sir.”
Keyes relented a little. “Okay, Jeffries. Lets see what youve got waiting for me.”
Petty Of.cer Jeffries approached a green, battle-scarred Pelican dropship squatting next to two others in the Armageddons Edges tight storage bay. The sides had been splashed and gouged by energy beams. Keyes followed the pilot as he walked under the high rear wings and engine nacelles up the ramp into the belly.
Jeffries walked past the webbing, storage bins, and the seats lining the walls to climb up into the cockpit. “You can strap in behind me, sir.” Jeffries said. “You dont have to ride back there. I dont want to get lonely on this trip. Theres room under your feet for your kit bag.”
The ramp groaned as it slowly closed, the hold of the drop-ship darkening.
Once it clanged shut and sealed, Jeffries tossed his helmet aside. “Dont have to stay airtight on this milk run. Not exactly leaping into combat today, are we?”
No, thought Keyes, .ashing back to the times hed been in combat. They certainly werent. Combat was men strapped shoulder to shoulder in the back, while you weaved and ducked a Pelican through anti-aircraft bursts. Your palms would be sweating and your breath heavy in the con.ned space of your own helmet. Combat was when the cockpit you were sitting in smelled of blood, and fear.
Keyes clicked back to the present as Jeffries .icked and tapped the console in front of him, bringing the Pelican to life. In the copilots seat Keyes kept an eye on things. Jeffries ran the systems check with a bewildering rapidity that could only come with practice and familiarity. There was a photo of a brunette with two boys taped to the side of the cockpit window. Keyes pointed at it. “Your kids?”
“Yes sir. You have any?”
“A daughter,” Keyes said.
The four engines wound themselves up, a kick that shuddered through the entire frame of the Pelican.
“Gamma 54 to Armageddons Edge, pre.ight check is green, systems nominal, .ight plan .led. Permission to .y?” Jeffries sounded bored.
“Gamma 54, hold tight for the trapdoor,” came the breezy response from the bridge.
The ships bay doors opened to reveal the planet beneath. Thin, long clouds covered the unfamiliar green-and-browncolored continental shapes. Keyes hadnt had time to read up much about his destination. Hed gotten his orders at lunch, and been bundled off and frozen in an Armageddons Edge cyrogenic pod by dinner.
“What brings you out all the way from Luna to see the wonderful skies of Chi Rho, sir?” There wasnt a lot of room for a Pelican to move in the Armageddons Edges bay, but Jeffries gunned the four thrusters and the Pelican hopped up and forward, and then, just as abruptly, spun and dove through the bay doors.
Jeffries was looking back over his shoulder at him, showing off that he could get out of the ships bay without even paying attention. Keyes didnt give the pilot the satisfaction of a .inch. But Keyes was impressed. The dangerous stunt showed Jeffries could .y blind. And damn well, too. “Orders, Petty Of.cer. Orders.”
“We go where they tell us, right?”
“You know it.” Keyes glanced up through the shielded glass, catching a glimpse of the medium-sized ship that had taken him all the way from the home system. Craters pocked the ships surface, and burn streaks crisscrossed the arrowhead-shaped nose of the ship. Despite a re.t, the scars remained from the ships last encounter.
Armageddons Edge dwindled away as Jeffries thundered them down in a long arc toward the atmosphere. The Pelican shook and shuddered as heat built up from atmospheric reentry. Streaks of glowing red .lled the air.
“Do you know if there are any training stations for patrol craft here, Jeffries?” Keyes asked suddenly.
Jeffries checked a monitor, then glanced back. “Training stations? Here? Sir, Chi Rho is for repairs and drydocking. Support for the front line. Theres no training out here. All you have to do is head out a few days and run into a Covenant long-range patrol—youll get all the training you need.”
“I thought so.” Keyes looked out through the red haze. Chi Rho was an Inner Colony world. Not as developed or as large as the mother planet, but still home to hundreds of millions of people on its primary continent and Earthlike surface.
But Chi Rho was the closest Keyes had been in some time to that somewhat gray, invisible line where planets turned from the Inner Colonies to the Outer Colonies.
With worlds scattered so far from each other, and travel being a long and sometimes dangerous affair, news traveled slowly, and most of it came through UNSC channels of late. Every citizen knew that the Covenant were slowly destroying human planets from orbit, world by world. Only the UNSC stood in their way, .ghting for every bloody inch.
And even the UNSCs of.cial bulletins indicated that most of the Outer Colonies had been destroyed—glassed with incredibly powerful energy weapons, the likes of which the UNSC had never seen.
Every day for the past nine years, since the .rst encounters with the aliens, the front line had moved closer to Chi Rho and the outer edge of the Inner Colonies.
Keyes knew this was not where you trained green pilots.
But his orders, strange as they were, said that he was to get out to Chi Rho at full speed for a training exercise.
Even a follow-all-commands Navy lifer like Keyes knew the orders were a load of crap. A cover for something else.
And that something else might involve getting back aboard a ship, Keyes found himself daring to hope. Maybe even the recently patched up Armageddons Edge.
Excerpted from HALO®: THE COLE PROTOCOL.
Copyright © 2008 by the Microsoft Corporation.
Published in December 2008 by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction
is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or
medium must be secured from the Publisher.
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