Halo_ Evolutions - Essential Tales of the Halo Universe - Eric Nylund [183]
It’s nice, like home . . . if there were red sand beaches in Ohio. It might make a decent base of operations for the Gorgon in this sector of the Outer Colonies.
I miss the kids and Inna. Still. Sixteen months since the divorce and I think it’s all a nightmare. The hardest thing is not getting any replies from the kids. I’ve sent letters, but I think Inna burns them all.
Please try to get them a message: Tell them I love them.
—P
{Excerpt} Personal letter from Captain Preston Cole
to his brother, Michael James Cole, March 12, 2502
(Military Calendar)
I was talking to Lyra about the Gorgon’s fusion reactor. (You remember her? She owns the bar on the beach? Got her PhD in nuclear engineering and moved here to fish and pour drinks? My kind of lady.)
Discussed nothing classified, just the generalities of plasma physics, and she came up with a way to boost our output by at least 5%.
I think we’ve all underestimated what kind of people come out to the Outer Colonies.
If things ever settle down, you and Molly should see for yourselves. I’m not saying leave the farm—just look.
{Excerpt} Personal letter from Captain Preston Cole
to his brother, Michael James Cole, May 28, 2502
(Military Calendar)
That skirmish at Capella was too damned expensive. Thirty-two men and women lost. After so little insurgent activity for so long . . . I thought they’d given up.
I’ve gotten the okay from CENTCOM on Reach for a month of leave for me and the crew. What could they say? The Gorgon is going to be laid up that long in space dock getting patched up.
I’ll be on Roost. No pressures. Some fishing. Some time with Lyra.
A little slice of paradise in all this purgatory.
Personal letter from Captain Preston Cole to his brother,
Michael James Cole, November 9, 2502 (Military Calendar)
We got married, Michael. Pictures and video attached.
I’m sorry for the surprise. (Or maybe you’ve known this was coming for a long time, huh?) It was nothing fancy, just a ceremony on the beach performed by the local pastor.
Lyra is happy. She’s pregnant, too.
God, I’m happy for the first time since I can remember. I feel like I’ve finally gotten a real second chance out here.
Even the insurgency seems to have finally calmed down. There’ve been just a few policing actions near Theta Ursae Majoris. Maybe this thing is finally coming to an end.
Classified communiqué from Admiral Harold Stanforth to
Captain Preston Cole \ June 13, 2503 (Military Calendar)
UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND TRANSMISSION 08871D-00
ENCRYPTION CODE: RED
PUBLIC KEY: FILE / ALBATROSS-SEVEN-LUCIFER-ZENO /
FROM: ADMIRAL HAROLD STANFORTH, COMMANDING OFFICER,
UNSC LEVIATHAN / USNC SECTOR THREE COMMANDER/
(UNSC SERVICE NUMBER: 00834-19223-HS)
TO: CAPTAIN PRESTON COLE, COMMANDING OFFICER, UNSC
GORGON (UNSC SERVICE NUMBER: 00814-13094-BQ)
SUBJECT: TROUBLE
CLASSIFICATION: EYES-ONLY (BGA DIRECTIVE)
This is bad, Preston. Sit down if you’re standing.
There are new orders coming down from CENTCOM, and you’re not going to like them: You’re going to Reach.
Let me start with the hardest thing.
The woman you’ve been having a relationship with for the last seventeen months, one Lyrenne Castilla, is part of the insurgency. Hell, she’s not a part of it; she’s a high-ranking member—we think commanding one of their ships.
ONI has all the details. I’ve seen their intelligence reports, and I believe those usually-lying-through-their-teeth SOBs. They’ve been tracking her insurgent alter ego for a long time and just discovered her civilian identity.
It’s simple: She’s been playing you, Preston.
ONI is going to come after you, too, claiming that she’s been pumping you for classified ship patrol routes and technical information.
So here’s how it’s going to play out:
1. New orders are being transmitted in three hours from Reach CENTCOM.
2. You will be confined to quarters