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This was a Forerunner city. Intact. Sacred. Untouched. It was what every member of the Covenant had dreamed of finding… if not in this life, then the next.
Would it be so easy to claim their prize? The technological and theological treasures were close enough to touch. Voro's joints weakened and he wanted to drop and bow before the glory of it all.
He stopped, ashamed. Such religious stupor would only blind him to the dangers.
Voro must not bow to the Forerunner ghosts. He must be the sole authority here.
He turned to the Lekgolo pair who ever remained at his back on the bridge.
"Prepare for battle," he told them.
Although the Lekgolo could not smile, Voro sensed their "faces" flex in pleasure, a dozen eels squirmed and coiled over one another.
They growled their assent, rose, saluted, and thundered off the bridge.
Voro ran his hand over the command console. Ship Master Tano's blood still stained the edges, tingeing the holographic emitters blue. He lamented that his old mentor had not survived to witness this moment.
"Alien vessels accelerating from the surface," Uruo announced. "Two dozen. Pair formation. On attack vectors."
"Destroy the craft," Voro said over FLEETCOM, "and only the craft. Use lasers, pinpoint targeting."
Tiny explosions lit the night as the drones were obliterated.
He activated the SHIPCOM. "Paruto, Waruna, during the ground assault take pains to minimize collateral damage."
There was a double-growl response, and then Paruto asked, "What target. Fleet Master?"
Voro surveyed the vast city. A complete search would take weeks.
"Pulse the Greeting of Ancients for a signal response," he told Y'gar.
"Aye, Fleet Master." He broadcast the Covenant's universal handshake sequence, and waited then for a response.
It was only a dream that any Forerunner were left to answer the call.
"Something…" Y'gar leaned closer to examine the wavering reply signal.
Voro moved to his station.
"It's one of ours," Voro declared. "Send it to the ship's Oracle for pattern match."
"Yes, sir," Y'gar replied. "Ship ID… DX class."
"A dropship? Identify the parent ship registry"
Y'gar summoned the reference and his jaws dropped open in shock. "Bloodied Spirit," he whispered.
Voro narrowed his eyes at the wavering response signals. This came from the ship stolen by the human demons. They had beaten them here? Survived the Forerunners' defenses and infiltrated holy grounds? Anger boiled within him and clouded his mind, but he collected his rage… saved it.
"Triangulate the signal," he ordered.
"Yes, sir. There."
The image shifted in the central viewer. A silver dome wavered into semisolidity. The apex of the structure faceted into seven planes, and on each, an arch opened to the interior… arches large enough for dropships to pass through.
Voro returned to his command console. "Paruto, Waruna, we have a target. Muster the reserves from every ship in the fleet."
Paruto and Waruna replied simultaneously with a subsonic rumble of acknowledgment.