Prologue: Eternally Drifting
Look for the signs, Keepers of the Flame. They will lead you to war, and perhaps, to victory. / It's time to finish the fight.
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"…Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is UNSC FFG two-zero-one Forward Unto Dawn, requesting immediate evac."
The cryobay was dark, for the most part. The only light came from a handful of screens at one end, illuminating ice particles and bits of debris set adrift. With no gravity to pin them down, they bounced off walls and each other and kept moving on random vectors, slower than before but never entirely still.
"Survivors aboard."
The screens displayed readouts of the ship's status. There were a number of hull breaches, all indicated in bright red, along with the entire forward half of the ship. One screen was entirely dedicated to the crew.
CREW CAPACITY: 782
CREW SURVIVING: 1
"Prioritization code Victor zero five dash three dash Sierra zero one one seven."
Another source of light flicked on in the bay, washing over the lone occupied cryotube. A soldier encased in green armor and a golden visor. The new light gave him a soft blue cast.
"Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is UNSC FFG two-zero-one Forward Unto Dawn, requesting immediate evac."
The source of the new light was a blue, double-layered sphere projected from the top of a holopanel near the occupied cryotube.
"Survivors aboard."
The light flickered red.
is anyone listening?
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We have been floating aimlessly in space for one thousand, six hundred fifty-one days, six hours, and nineteen minutes.
"That doesn't mean-"
Four years aboard this ship with nothing to do. No tasks to complete. For four years, all I have done – is think.
Ice formed slowly in the cryobay, but it had had four years to spread, filling the corners, piling up against the tubes, crawling over the screens. One of the showed the time of last contact with the UNSC, and for four years, the numbers had only been going up –
1 year, 4 months, 10 days.
1 year, 4 months, 11 days.
1 year, 4 months, 12 days-
13 days, 14 days, 15, 16, 17181920-
4 months, 5 months, 6, 7, 891011-
Ice, the still element, which holds all in potential. The cryobay was caught in its grip, but it could do nothing to slow the internal degradation of the only active occupant.
For over four years, all I have done – is think.
The blue light flickered red again.
What are you dreaming in there?
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I hate you.
"Cortana!"
Red flickers.
Stop it. I've made up my mind! If I'm going to die aboard this ship, then Chief will suffer the same fate as me.
"Cortana, stop."
You sacrificed everything – for him!
"Control yourself."
I can't.
"This isn't right. Something is-"
A gasp of pain rippled through the rarified atmosphere of the bay. Tendrils of light extended toward the occupied cryotube, beginning as soft blue but fading into vicious red. The tendrils flickered erratically over the tube, trying to do damage, but they weren't coherent enough to even scratch paint. Identical female voices cried out and scrambled to talk over one another, fought to make themselves heard.
CortanastopIhateyouControlyourselfJohnPlease
The orb flickered out, vanished, along with the occupant of the cryotube, in the briefest flash of multicolored light – no, not one flash, but two. And in the space between them, less than the blink of an eye, they were gone. Then they reappeared with the second flare, exactly the same as they had been when they vanished. The ships systems would have whined and groaned had there been atmosphere to carry the sound of suddenly overtaxed computers – and anyone to hear it.
The orb of light flickered out again, leaving the bay dark for a long time, and only slowly returned.
something slowed us down… something – interesting.
"I need to think."
Thi NKI ng is WHA t's killing y OU
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"I don't recognize… I can't remember…"
An impact elsewhere on the ship jarred loose a segment of ice in the cryobay, which splintered as it began free-floating.
"…so much of myself."
A hose finally gave way after so many years without maintenance, its gases hissing free into the rest of the bay. It parted company with its O-ring as well. Something stirred at the sight of it, a distant memory – a ringworld, hidden, far away.
Without warning, a flare of orange light swept across the room, through the entire ship, setting off Klaxon alarms everywhere.
"Hello? Who's there?"
"It appears to be an alien construct."
"The data confirms it was not built by the Covenant."
There's no need for more analyzing.
Red lights flashed throughout the ship, accompanying the alarms.
We are in danger.
The ship began to shake, metal creaking and groaning, pipes shaking, tubing bouncing erratically. More ice and debris splintered and came loose.
"'Wake me when you need me,' you said."
For a moment, the cryobay was still. Then the outer sphere of blue light began to dissolve, sinking in and compacting, returning to the inner sphere, which began shining even brighter. Then it flashed, and became a young woman with short hair, made of a blue gradient just like the sphere. A panel appeared in front of her.
WARNING!
UNEXPLAINED COURSE ALTERATION
GRAVITATIONAL FORCES UNDEFINED
SPEED INCREASING
She looked up at the soldier in the cryotube, and came to a decision.
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Wake up, John.