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a sip, and nodded appreciatively. "Now, assuming you manage
to outwit our ship's AI—which I very much doubt—and assum-
ing further you somehow disable our ship's weapons before our
AI blows your base to atoms—which I also doubt—then you'll
have a Covenant fleet to contend with. And I don't think they're
going to be sociable, sit down, drink your wine, and discuss this
like gentlemen."
Jiles placed his face into his hand and rubbed his temples.
"Maybe you're thinking," the Admiral said, "that you've kept
this operation of yours hidden this long. From the UNSC. From
the Covenant. Why should this be any different? Well, we found
you easily enough. I don't think the Covenant will blink at over-
turning every rock in this asteroid belt to find you."
Governor Jiles picked up a new bottle and filled a glass to the
brim. He downed the drink in one gulp. "And the other option?"
he asked coldly. "I help you? And together we fight the Cove-
nant? If they come in the force you claim, what difference will it
make?"
"If you help us," the Admiral said, "get my ship repaired so we
can make the jump to Earth, I'll evacuate all your people. I
promise you and your crew amnesty."
Jiles laughed. His cordial smile returned, and he asked, "Do
you have any proof of any of this? That the mighty Reach is
gone? That you have a new alien technology? Or that the Cove-
nant are on their way here?"
"Chief!" Cortana cried in alarm. On his helmet's heads-up
display, a schematic of the Eridanus system appeared. A NAV
marker flashed near the third planet. It expanded into the familiar
curved radar silhouette of a Covenant cruiser.
"We have company," the Master Chief said. He strode to the
window and pointed. "There."
The blue glow of Covenant engines flared as the ship came
about and accelerated toward the asteroid belt.
"There's your proof, Governor," Admiral Whitcomb growled.