Broken Circle Read Free

secondary objective. Because in their midst was Ussa, carrying a directed-energy rifle as he trudged up the steep incline.
    Four Sentinels lifted from Site One and drifted horizontally, almost casually, over the ground toward the ridge. The Sangheili were just coming over the ridge’s crest, weapons glinting faintly in the red tint. They immediately opened fire on the Sentinels, making the defensive fields on the machines flare. The Sentinels returned the assault, laserlike orange-yellow beams of murderous energy searing the Sangheili ranks. Some were struck repeatedly, charred and dead—but in accordance with orders, the Sentinels drew back and fired only sporadically.
    Where was the Sangheili commander? Where was Ussa ‘Xellus?
    Mken redirected the Eyes, and found Ussa and his smallerforce taking to a small rift, a ravine slanting roughly toward Site One. They were coming at the site quickly, in a flanking maneuver, while the San’Shyuum were occupied with the main assault.
    â€œWe will have to cut off Ussa’s flanking assault at—”
    Mken didn’t finish the order. A flash of sickly yellow light stunned his eyesight, and the ground pitched under him.
    â€œThey’ve knocked out the force fields!” the Steward shouted as he backed toward the drop pod, firing at something Mken couldn’t see. “They’ve hit them from below! There’s a tunnel in the—”
    A lance of yellow energy struck upward from the collapsing ground—from an artificial sinkhole that now revealed the Sangheili assassins who’d detonated the tunnels under the force field generators.
    The Steward shrieked, burned by the vicious energy beam, the eyes melting from his head. Mken choked at the smell of the Steward’s burned flesh.
    â€œCunning,” Mken muttered in admiration, hurrying back to the air lock even as two more searing bolts from the exposed tunnel struck the Eye, detonating it, and a third slashed through the air where Mken had stood only a moment before.
    But Mken was in the air lock now, shouting for a seal and emergency liftoff. His gravitational mod belt kept him from being flung helplessly about as the pod lurched into the air.
    â€œStrike forces, here are my orders!” Mken shouted as he floated into the pod’s command seat. “Abandon Site One! Lift off and navigate clear of Dreadnought bombardment!”

    â€œHe’s gotten away,” observed Ussa ‘Xellus, his head tilted back as he watched the pod rise toward orbit. “And he will be givingorders right about now.” A couple of errant blasts from his assassins flicked after the pod, but it was already out of effective range.
    His second-in-command, a large Sangheili colloquially hailed as Ernicka the Scar-Maker, was firing at the other pods already lifting off from the excavation known to the San’Shyuum as Site One. His rifle’s energy bolt struck one of them, but to little effect. His multiple, clashing jaws quivered in angry frustration, their rows of teeth clacking.
    â€œThey were ready to go,” Ussa mused. “All too ready. And those flying attack machines seemed curiously restrained. I suspect . . . they will fire their orbital weapon.”
    â€œThey cannot fire on the excavation without damaging the Sacred Dome,” Ernicka said. “Even they would not dare such blasphemy!”
    â€œSo I assumed,” Ussa said. “Now I am not so sure. The dome is of Forerunner hardened energy and holy metals—it would depend on the magnitude of . . . yes!” His clawed four-fingered hand closed into a fist with which he struck his silvery armored chest, as if smiting himself in rebuke. “I’ve been a fool. Quickly—into the air chutes!”
    â€œIf we go down that way, we won’t get back up for—”
    â€œI said quickly! Tell the strike force to retreat, and to those we brought in the site—order them