Divine Wind by Troy Denning

Author:Troy Denning [Denning, Troy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2021-10-19T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

The voice of Dhas Bhasvod’s lead Seraph pilot came over the battlenet. “The human Pelican is dropping flares in sets of one and two. These are likely signals.”

“What else would they be, Ferko?” Dhas asked. He and Castor were standing at the top of his Phantom’s boarding ramp, searching the ridge above for the spy and her brood. They had seen no sign of them in more than a quarter unit. “Have you detected any transmissions?”

“No transmissions, Prelate. But there was a targeting laser flashing from the ridgetop.”

“At the human Pelican?” Dhas asked.

“In that direction, yes,” Ferko said. His gravelly Jiralhanae voice seemed to fill the interior of Dhas’s helmet. “But the range was extreme. I cannot be sure it was illuminating the Pelican.”

“I can,” Dhas said. “You are now empowered to strike.”

“I have no visual, Prelate.”

“And nothing from the spotters?”

“Not yet,” Ferko said. “One has fallen silent, and the other is still searching.”

“But you know where the targeting laser originated,” Dhas said. “Strike there. If nothing else, you may flush the quarry.”

“As you command… beginning run in two centals.”

Dhas switched to his external voicemitter.

“The spy mother has taken the bait.” He was looking at Castor, but speaking loudly enough so that the handful of adjutants standing behind them would also hear. “The Seraphs saw them using a blink code, and the Pelican dropped signal flares.”

“Primitive,” Arcas said. “And unreliable. Why would they not use a communications pad?”

“Because they are too cunning,” Castor said. “They assume we would hear the transmission and understand we have spies.”

“And because they have been living as Keepers for two years,” ‘Gadogai added. “What would have happened to them if an unauthorized communications device were discovered in their possession?”

“The same thing that I will enjoy watching now,” Castor said. He turned to Dhas. “You have called for the plasma strike?”

“I have,” Dhas said. “But we cannot be sure your spies will still be there. My pilots have no visual, and the spotters have not found them.”

“That cannot be good.”

It was Castor’s lead pilot, a young Jiralhanae named Krelis, who said this. He stepped into the empty space between Castor and Dhas, intruding in a manner that would have earned a blow, were he Dhas’s subordinate. At least he had the wisdom to stand facing the same direction as his betters, rather than insult Dhas by turning his back to him.

“Why would they choose now to disappear?” Krelis continued.

“Because ‘Gadogai’s plan worked,” Castor said. His words were appropriately sharp, and the readout inside Dhas’s helmet showed Krelis’s face temperature spiking into the anger range. “They believe their mission accomplished, and now they hope to evacuate before the UNSC strikes.”

“Is it wise to place so much faith in the plans of an infidel?” Krelis asked. “ ‘Gadogai has no devotion to the Great Journey.”

Castor’s voice assumed a cold edge. “He has devotion to me.” He turned square to Krelis and spoke in a more measured manner, his forced restraint showing in the rounded peaks of the voiceprint audiograph scrolling across Dhas’s visor.

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