ACKNOWLEDGMENTS First and foremost my wife and fellow writer, Syne Mitchell and my son, KaL They lived with a deadline-driven cranky writer for several months. Without their help, love, and understanding no one would be reading anything from me. Next, the Bungie JStory Four*--Brian Jarrard, Rob McLees. Frank O'Connor, and Joseph Staten--who helped develop the story and checked every nuance of the manuscript more times than I can count. My agent, Richard Curtis, for his :lear thinking and ever-calm character Eric Raab and Tom Doherty at Tor Books for their editorial acumen and constant support. Dana Fos and Matt Whiting at Microsoft Game Studios User Experience. In the Microsoft Licensing Group: Alicia Brattin, Alicia Hatch, Nancy Figatner, Brian Maeda, Steve Schreck. and Edward Ventura. Extra special thanks to Mercury Eric, and the many fens who have written to me. --Eric Nylund North Bend, Washington August 2006 PROLOGUE Linda's medical data winked on a display along with the entire Spartan roster: a long list of every Spartan's current operational status. Only a handful was left, almost every one of them listed as WOUNDED IN ACTION or MISSING IN ACTION. "No KIAsr Dr. Halsey murmured. She touched SPARTAN-034's entry. 'Sam is listed as missing in action. Why would that be? He died in 2525." ;ONI Section Two Directive Nine-Three-Zero/ Cortana replied. *When ONI went public with the Spartan-ll program it was decided that reports of Spartan losses could cause a crippling lose of morale. Consequently, any Spartan casualties are listed as MIA or WIA, in order to maintain the illusion that Spartans do not die ." "Spartans never dieT she whispered. Dr. Halsey swiveled out of the contour chair and pushed the monitors oul of her way with were true." --HALO: First Strike, page 249 BETA COMPANY'S VICTORY AT PEGASI DELTA Pg.3 1135 HOURS, JULY 3, 2545 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ 51 PEGASI-B SYSTEM, TARGET AREA APACHE, PLANET PEGASI DELTA The orbital pod impacted, and metal wrenched and sparked. Inside his cocoon of titanium, lead foil, and stealth ablative coating, SPARTAN-B292 watched black stars explode across his vision, he tasted blood in his mouth, and the last air compressed from his lungs. Tom's training kicked in: he pulled the pod's twisted frame apart and blinked in the bright blue sunlight. Something was wrong. 85 Pegasi-914A was supposed to be a feint yellow sun. This was electric blue--boiling plasma blue. He jumped, rolling to one side as the blast washed over him. The outer layers of his Semi-Powered Infiltration armor bDiled and peeled like a bad sunburn. "Training," his instructor. Lieutenant Commander Ambrose, had said. *Your training must become part of your instinct Drill until it becomes part of your bones." Tom reacted without thought; a lifetime of training took over He raised his MA5K assault rifle and fired along the trajectory of the plasma bolt, making sure to sweep low. She searched for pattern matches in Cortana's log, and then cross-referenced the stellar coordinates embedded in the Cote d'Azure rock. There was a match: the symbol for the Halo construct. She double-checked the stone and found coordinates for Onyx and a matching symbol in Endless Summer's database. *What does that mean?" Mendez asked, pointing to a doublelobed icon. This," she whispered, 'roughly translated, it means 'shield world." Tunny thing to call a place/ he observed. In a moment of clarity she understoodnot everything but enough to see a glimmer of the Forerunners' plan. For every coordinated military effort there were offensive and defense aspects: attack, leiriluiuemeril, and, if needed, rtlreal. The Halu uurisliuuL was uuly pail u( Lhe Fureruuuer plan. Whatever was happening on this world was another portion of their strategytriggered when Halo had been activated. Onyx, the "shield/ it was something Dr. Halsey might be able to use for her own purposes. She rapid-fire typed a message to Lord Hood at FLEETCOM, requesting a large military force to be sent, explaining that the Fcrerunner technology here might turn the tide of the war. She then encoded Cortana's logs and the other data...in case Admiral Whitcomb and the other SPARTAN-lls never made it back to Earth. The hologram pad warmed aid Endless Summer reappeared. "COM probe launcher prepared and Slipspace generator capacitors charged/ he said. *You have the message. Doctor?" She sent him the files. "Concise and devoid of elegance/ Endless Summer remarked. "What I have come to expect from human communication/ "Upload and send it," Dr. Halsey told him. "Accelerator primed. Slipstream transition matrix formed/ His image dimmed. "COM probe away/ Endless Summer then frowned, and a ripple of static passed though his image. "There's an anomaly/ he said. I'm keeping the Slipspace matrix open and running probe diagnostic." "Explain," Dr. Halsey demanded. "I am receiving a UNSC E-Band signal, bounced from the probe back to us, a transmission originating inside Slipstream space." He furrowed his brows. This should not be possible. The energy required would be more than the output of all UNSC assets combined/ "It's not possible with our technology," Dr. Halsey said. "Download that messageput it on speaker while the probe is still in range/ A woman's voice filled the bunker. It was static-filled and choppy. And unmistakably Cortana's "This is an automated message from UNSC MIL Al SERIAL NUMBER: CTN 0452-9. "All UNSC personnel heed and stand to. "I am declanng general emergency codes Bandersnatch and Hydra.v "Bandersnatch" was the code for radiological-or energy-based disaster. Dr. Halsey had heard this used before from planetary bombardment by Covenant plasma and during the UNSC nuking of the Far Isle Colony to put down the rebellion of 2492. "Hydra," however she had rever heard used before. It was reserved for imminent threat from biological weapons of mass destruction. "In Amber Clad has successfully followed the Covenant ship from New Mombassa to its destination, another Halo construct (stellar coordinates embedded). "We discovered there are more Halos distributed throughout the galaxy. "Covenant base ship and fleet are here en masse guarding Delta Halo. "Parasitic infestation known as the Flood has contaminated this construct. "Flood attempting to escape. Strategies suggest a hitherto unknown coordinating intelligence "Highest possible threat assessment from biological contamination and radiological annihilation from Halo detonation. "Suggest FLEETCOM neutralize the Covenant-controlled Forerunner command vessel. Be advised SPARTAN-117 onboard. "Additional. Suggest FLEETCOM Nova-bomb the Delta Halo system to counter the imminent biological threat. "Message ends.' Cortana had to be using the Forerunner technology to send this message through Slipstream space. But wojld any UNSC ship hear it? They weren't designed to detect signals in the notoriously unpredictable transdimension. "COM probe almost out of our range," Endless Summer said. "Slipstream space matrix collapse imminent." Dr. Halsey rapidly typed on her laptop. "Link to the COM probe/ she told Endless Summer, 'and amend our message with this. Calculate a frequency shift to match Cortana's signal, and resend our message from the probe tnstde Slipspace." *l inkpd with prnhfi * Fndlpss Rummpr starpri into spanp JStand hy r If this worked, Cortana's signal would act as a transluminal carrier wave. If the Slipstream space monitoring station on Earth had its ears open, their message would get to FLEETCOM in minutes instead of weeks. Possibly in time to do some good. "Done/ Erdless Summer announced, "but verification impossible. Slipstream matrix has collapsed." Dr. Halsey sighed, hoping the amended message had gotten through, and hoping she had done the right thing. So much depended on her lies. She glanced at the additional message she had typed. "HOOD, YOU'LL HAVE YOUR HANDS FULL. REVISE REQUEST: SEND ELITE STRIKE TEAM TO RECOVER TECHNOLOGICAL ASSETS FROM ONYX. SEND SPARTANS/ CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 1440 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SLIPSTREAM SPACE-UNKNOWN VECTOR\ ABOARD UNSC PROWLER DUSK Commander Richard Lash hovered over Lieutenant Yang's shoulder watching the screen for a blipwaiting for a single titanium ion to be sniffed by the sensor array on the Dusk's nose. Lieutenant Yang shifted in his chair *Sir, it's been fifteen minutes I'm going to purge the collectors and recalibrate.6 'Wait; Lash said. "Yes, sir6 Yang smoothed over his eyebrow, a nervous habit. Five minutes ticked off on the clock as Yang and Commander Lash waited. "Accurate timekeeping6 was an oxymoron in Slipstream space. Still, Lash held Dn to some illusion that he was in control and not flying blind, chasing a trail so feint it migh: quality as nonexistent after a Covenant capital ship and the UNSC destroyer In Amber Clad. A single spark lit the screen. "Got one/ Lieutenant Yang cried. "Mass spectrometer pegs it as titanium-50. Consistent with UNSC battle plate. One of ours, sir/ "Very good/ Commander Lash clapped his hand on Yang's shoulder. "Keep watching/ He pushed off and drifted back to the captain's chair. Lash felt uneasy sitting here; it really belonged to Captain Iglesias. but he was in rehab back on Earth. Radiation treatment for six months. This war would probably be over by then. He sat and clicked the harness on. For better or worse he was in charge now. Probably for thG worsG. bGcausG this mission was a cross bGtwoGn a wild-goosQ chasG and pure suicide. His prowler, Dusk had been close enough to act when in Amber Clad had entered the Covenant capital ship Slipspace rift as it left New Mombassa. They were one of four UNSC ships with charged Slipspace capacitors, and nimble enough to make the transition before the overpressure wave generated by an in-atmosphere transition crushed them. Miranda Keyes was the ballsiest officer in the fleet to go after that Covenant ship Dn her own. Was she nuts? Or trying to live up to the legendary reputation of her father? Lash would never know what that felt ike. His dad had been a welder on the Grade...at least before the Cradle had been destroyed at Sigma Octanus earlier this year. Dad had always wanted to be a hero. He'd gotten his wish. The Duskwith the two frigates Redoubtable and Pans, and the corvette Coral Seahad approximated the entrance vector of the Covenant ship, hoping to find out where they were headed, that or assist In Amber Clad in blowing herto hell. They had been caught in the wake of the Covenant craft and accelerated to many times the maximum velocity of any UNSC ship in Slipspace A lucky break They'd have never caught it otherwise. Technically 'acceleration1' and Velocity" were the wrong terms. They didn't map to the eleven nondimensions of Slipspace, but Commander Lash had never gotten the knack of thinking so abstractly. He left that to his NAV Officer. What this wake effect meant in concrete terms was Covenant ships traveled geometrically faster from point to point than their ships. One more strategic advantage the aliens possessed. ?g. 32 Commander Lash surveyed his bridge crew. His first. Lieutenant Commander Julian Waters, sat next to him, scanning engine output semantics, his forehead furrowed with worry lines. At NAV sat Lieutenant Bethany Durruno running diagnostics, nodding off. She had ice in her veins, and sadly that calm-under-disaster fortitude was wasted in Slipspace. At the sensor station was Lieutenant Joe Yang; his youngest officer had seen more battle in the last four years than most saw in a lifetime, and he had suffered for it. Back in Engineering was Lieutenant Commander Xaing Cho, doing his job and the job oflhree other technicians. They had all pulled double shifts, and the waiting was started to wear at them all. The Dusk had been caught between rotations when the Covenant hit Earth. The ship normally had a crew of ninety. They had to make do with a complement of forty-three. And they were alone now, too. The Redoubtable, the Paris, and the Coral Sea, with their larger engines, had moved ahead in the Slipstream wake. They'd passed out of limited COM range an hour ago. "Sensor hits correlated, sir/Yang said. A graph appeared on Commander Lash's display, plotting frequency and temporal distributions of their ion trail. It was a power-law decay. That was the last ion they could expect. The trail was as cold as liquid helium. That meant either the Dusk had lost In Amber Clad...or it had dropped out of Slipspace. "Stand by for transition," Lash said. His officers snapped to, readying the Dusk to drop into the normal interstellar vacuumor into the middle of a star or planet, for all they knew. There had been no time to plot a course. Commander Lash took a ceep breath. "Jettison the HORNET mines,6 he told Lieutenant Commander Waters "Sirr he asked. "Do it. Pull denotation codes and send then down." Waters sighed explosively and nodded his head. "Yes, sir. Understood/ His junior bridge officers excianged a look, but they all knew they had to lose the nukes. They were going to remain stealthed. no matter what the cost, and fissile materials exiting Slipspace lit up with Cherenkov radiationa signal flare to any Covenant ship within light-minutes. "Mines away," Waters whispered. 'All external power off-line/ _ash ordered. "Ablative baffles locked. Recheck engine dampers, and full power to counter sensor array/ The crew scrambled to make the Dusk virtually invisible. Green LEDs lit on Commancer Lash's status board. Transition/ he said. "Stand by/ Lieutenant Durruno said from her NAV station. 'Coordinating with Lieutenant Commander Cho in the core room In four three twonow." Stars snapped on the forward viewscreen. A sun blazed to the left. "Npw nnursp 7prn thrpp 7Prn by 7Prn thrpp 7prn/ Onmmanrlpr I ash said "Onp-quarfpr full * "Aye, sir," Durruno said, 'answering new heading/ It was a good idea to alter trajectory on a transition exit in case some telltale sign of their appearance manifested. Over the seven years he'd been on a prowler, Lash had learned that this class of ship was one of the slowest, most underpowered, and most poorly armed vessels in the UNSC fleet. Invisibility was their cnly defense. Lieutenant Yang's display lit with carrier wave patterns. "Signals/ Yang cried. 'Not our guys. Too manyat least a hundred of them!' Durruno at NAV craned her head for a better look, and then snapped back to her station. 'Signal origin near the fourth planet/she said. 'Magnifying and enhancing starboard camera view/ The central screen panned to starboard and the image magnified a thousandfold. There were a hundred or more Covenant ships, a Covenant superbase or orbital city.,.and dwarfing all this was a ringworld construct as large as a moon. For a split second. Lash couldn't think. He was all animal, fight or flights.with an overwhelming portion of his mind focused on the flight portion of that imperative. He snapped out of it. "Yang/ he whispered. Yang stared, mouth agape at the overwhelming Covenant forces. "YangT "Sir, yes." Yang shook his head clear. I'm here, sir/ "Good. Triple-check all countersensor packages. Make absolutely sure we are locked down tight. Very tight/ "On it, sir/ 'Durruno/ Commander Lash said, "move us dead slow into that asteroid field, at two point four AU/ "Aye, sir/ Her hands shook, but she plotted the new course. There's nc trace of In Amber Clad," Lieutenant Commander Waters said, staring into his display. "Or the Redoutable, Paris, or Coral Sea." 'Detecting multiple energy spikes/Yang said, his voice now oddly steady. They may have spotted us, sir/ "Make ready to go to full power/ Commander Lash said. The bridge officers tensed. 'Sir/ Waters said. 1 see weapons discharging in the region ..directed plasma fire, energy projectors. None targeting us/ Lash magnified the viewscreen until the images of Covenant ships blurred. Flashes of fire and lances of lightning crisscrossed the dark. Lash whispered, "Who the hell are they shooting at?" Major Voro 'Mantakree drew his needier pistol and fired at the back of Ship Master Tano's head. The crystaline spines thucked into the Ship Master's skull and explodedspraying blood, brains, and bits of skull over the command console. The magnitude of his treachery was unprecedented. What SangheilM Major would dare disobey a Ship Master who had led seven glorious campaigns against their enemies? Who would murder his superior officer on the bridge of the one of the fleet's most renowned cruisers? But how could Voro let this continue? Tano Inanraree had lost his mind, literally and figuratively. And while religious fervor was laudable under most conditions, it was not if it killed the entire crew of the Incorruptible...and destroyed their race. Voro stepped over the body of his friend and former commanding officer and holstered his weapon. The U-shaped bridge seemed somehow smaller now, the blue-white light a little harsher than it had a moment ago, and the holographic consoles appeared covered in icons he couldn't understand. Voro blinked his nictating membranes and looked with cleared eyes at the bridge officers. Sangheili from the respected Dn'end LegionUruo Losonaee at Operations and Zasses Jeqkogoee at Navigationstared with maws agape, shocked into inaction. Y'gar Pewtrunoee at the nnmmnniratinns/Sensnra station nnddpd with understanding But the bonded Lekgolo2 pair responsible for security on the Incorruptible tensed; their armored bulks took two thudding steps toward Major Voro. Their spines fanned in anger. One of their duties was to protect the Ship Master, and failing that, they were to enact revenge on his assassin. In truth, the bonded pair, Paruto Xida Konna and Waruna Xida Yotno, were a mystery to Voro. He had seen them tear enemies in half with their "hands* while in the midst of a mindless blood rage, and afterward pause to recite war poetry. How could any truly understand the Lekgolo? Inside their thick armcr swarmed orange wormsa colony gestalt as alien as anything Voro had ever encountered. More pragmatically, they were indestructibleat least to Voro with his one pistol. Lekgolo armor could withstand multiple plasma bolts before even warming. Voro stood tall and unapologetic. The Lekgolo stared at him. Their forms shuddered and the eel colonies pulsed in harmonic unison to produce a subsonic rumble, words that were more felt than actually heard. "A mercy kill/ they said together. "You have done the Ship Master an honor* Voro resumed breathing. They were his now to command and to send into battle. As was the Reverence-class cruiser Incorruptible. 'Does anycne else have words about this?* Voro asked his bridge officers. They looked to one another. Y'gar, the eldest bridge officer, stepped forward. His sole vanity was his left eye, which had been blinded in combat. He had refused to have the cataract repaired. Tano was devout to the end/ Y'gar said. 'But his reasoning, in light of recent events, was not sound. This was regrettable, but necessary,,.Ship Master/ There it was: Voro was Master now. All the honor his All the responsibility his as well. He glanced at Tano, spilling his lifeblood over the command console, and set a hand on his mentor's shoulder a parting gesture. "Remove him/Voro whispered. Y'gar made a chuffing sound and three Unggoy3 appeared and carried Tano off the bridge, sponging up the remains as they went. Voro knocked one with a cleaning rag aside. 'Let his blood remain there/ he said. The Unggoy scurried away. The stain would forever remain on Voro's soul; it could stay on the deck as well, a reminder of llitr piice he had paid fui Iheii suivival. Voro then stared at the central holographic viewer: at the insanity that surnunded the Incorruptible. The Second Fleet of Homogeneous Clarity was in chaos; more than a hundred ships maneuvered on random vectors, barely avoiding collisions, and in the distance the silver arc of the Forerunner Halo constructominous, breathtaking, and the source of this trouble. It had made Ship Master Tano lose his mind. He belonged to a fringe sect, the Governors of Contrition, who believed all Forerunner creations were sacrosanct. This even applied to the parasitic Flood infestation on Halo. Tano had reasoned that the Forerunners had created a perfect life-form, and it was therefore their duty to protect, eACE. Immediate rescue attemp~s commenced with the assistance of the UNSC prowler Circumference, joined on 1/13/2535, 1105 hours, by the UNSC frigate Tannenberg. Three hundred twenty-two minutes after projected oxygen in SPARTAN-051's variant-V MJOLNIR suit expired, operation terminated as nearby Covenant Action (see attached references) prompted an immediate call to action of all nearby unsc forces. Cause of thruster malfunction remains unknown, pending further investigation, but it is hypothesized that a partially decommissioned shaw-fujikawa translight engine core on the platform and in close proximity to spartan-051 at the time of the accident may have caused a series of catastrophic electrical malfunctions. anomalous electrical activity also obscured further, later rescue efforts in the region. Platform 966A has been tagged with a HAZNAV satellite, pending HMAT team dispatch (FLEETCOM Order D-88934). SPARTAN-051 Status: MISSING IN ACTION. Kurt woke up in bed, an osmotic IV in his arm, and nearby monitors displaying his vital signs, blood compositiDn, and brain-oxygen saturation levels. He surmised he was in a hospital, although there was no call button, and no obvious door. There was also a camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling. Kurt felt the familiar subsonic thrum around him, anc he relaxed. He was on a spaceship. Although he preferred boot-on-dirt, anywhere was better than hard vacuum. He lowerec the bed's railing, and swung his legs over the edge. Pain lanced up his side. Cracked ribs--he'd had them many times. Bruises covered his pale skin; they were especially livid on his shoulders, stomach, and waist. He checked in the mirror for injuries, and then ran his hand over the long black stubble on his head and face. He was intact^.but how long had he been unconscious? The wall slid apart and a balding man entered. Curiously he wore an Army uniform, pinned with the eagle insigro of a colonel. His dark eyes fixed upon Kurt. "Sir!* Kurt started to stand and salute. "At ease, soldier," the Colonel said. Kurt checked his motion. He opened his mouth to correct the Colonel's error, but fell silent. Naval NCOs were never called ^soldiers," but in Kurt's experience, officers, Army or otherwise, never appreciated correction unless lives were at stake. The Colonel's continued stare made Kurt uneasy. In feet, several things contributed to his unease. He was on a UNSC ship, receiving medical care, but how had he gotten here, and why was an Army colonel interested in himV "I am James Ackerson," the Colonel said. He then did a curious thing: he held out his hand to shake. This was a rare occurrence. Usually no one wanted to touch a Spartan, let alone shake their hand. Kurt took Ackerson's hand and gingerly squeezed it. Ackerson. Mendez. Ackerson had come up a dozen times, and from their inflection and body language Kurt had surmised he was not their friend. Kurt was aware that everyone in the UNSC had the same basic goal: protecting humanity from all threats. Not everyone, however, agreed on how that mandate should be executed.,.which led to tntemal conflict. Kurt understood this the way he understood basic precepts of a Shaw-Fujikawa translight engine. He grasped the underlying theoretical principles, but the nuances and the actual application of that knowledge remained a mystery to him. Most likely this colonel was on permanent loan to ONI as a liaison officer. They often recruited civilians, officers from other branches of the military, or anyone they needed to get their job done. An Army colonel was approximately the same rank as a Navy captain, so while Kurt was wary, he had to be polite, and even take orders from Ackerson as long as they did not conflict with previous orders. "If you are well enough, get dressed* Colonel Ackerson nodded to the night table on which was a neatly folded uniform. Pg. 11 Kurt stood, removed the osmotic IV patch, and dressed. "SPARTAN-051, what is your name?* Ackerson asked. "Kurt, sir." "Yes, but Kurt what? What is your farrily name?r Kurt knew he had had another name, before his training. That, however, was part Df a life that seemed more dream than real now. And that other name was just a shadow in his mnd, as was the family that had gone along with it. Still, he struggled to remember. It doesn't matter/ Ackerson said. "For the time being if asked, use the last name../ He considered for a moment. "Ambrose/ "Yes, sir." Kurt buttoned his shirt. The uniform was missing the Spartan patch of an eagle holding a lighting bolt and arrows. It instead had the clasping-hand patch of the UNSC Logistical core. It bore the single pip of a private first class and two combat ribbons for Harvest anc Operation TREBUCHET. "Follow me." Ackerson moved out the open doors into a narrow corridor. He led Kurt through three intersections. Many Naval officers passed them, bit none saluted. They kept to themselves for the most part, eyes down. And while a few nodded to Kurt, no one so much as even glanced at Ackerson. Kurt's unease at this odd situation grew palpable. They halted at a pressure door guarded by two marines who saluted. Kurt crisply returned their salute. Ackerson gave them a causal lalf-salute gesture. The Colonel set his hand on a biometric reader and face, retina, and palm were simultaneously scanned. With a hiss, the door opened. Kurt and Ackerson stepped into a dimly lit twenty-meter-wide room filled wall :o wall with monitors. Spectroscopic signatures, star charts, and Slipstream space pulses strobed across the screens. There were several officers and Iwo holographic Als consulting with them in whispered tones. One Al was a gray-robbed figure withojt a body. A wraith. The other was a collection of disembodied eyes, mouths, and gesturing hands--what Kurt vaguely recalled from one of Deja's art lessens as an example of cubist art. Ackerson whisked him across the room and to another door. A second biometric scan and they entered an elevator. There was downward motion, then a moment of zero-gee free fall, and the sensation of gravity then returned. The doors opened to a catwalk that extended over inky darkness to a blank wall. The Colonel approached the blank wall, a seam appeared, and then the two sections pulled apart. "This room is called 'Odin's Eye' by the junior staff,* Ackerson said. "You have been temporarily granted a code-word top-secret clearance to enter. Whatever is said inside is similarly classified and you will reveal none of our conversation unless the proper code words are provided. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," Kurt replied. Kurt's instinct, however, was to not enter this room. He, in feet, wanted to be anyplace out in that room. But he couldn't refuse. They entered. The doors closed behind them; Kurt didn't see the seam. The room had white concave walls, and Kurt's eyes had a hard time focusing. "Your classification code word is 'Falcon Forty,'r Ackerson said. "Now, speak freely in here. I certainly will." He gestured to a black circular table in the center of the room and they both sat. "Sir, where am I? Why am I here?" His words seemed to evaporate as he spoke them, deadened by the too-still air in "his strange room. "Of course." Ackerson murmured. "Yojr recovery is not complete. I had been warned of that.* He sighed. "We have gone to considerable trouble to extricate you from normal NavSpec Wep operations,,.from your recon mission to Station Delphi." Kurt remembered the explosion on hs T-PACK; he blinked and saw for a split second the dizzying blur of stars in his faceplate. "My team,r Kurt said, "are they--" "Fine/Ackerson replied. JNc injuries." Kurt inhaled, feeling his cracked rib. Not quite no injuries. Something changed in the Colonel's expression. The dark stare and hardness softened almost an imperceptible fraction. In a lowered voice, Ackerson said, ^Section Three has issued you new orders." He pushed a reader across the table to Kurt. Kurt thumbed the biometric and the screen warmed. There were code-word classified warnings and then he saw his transfer o*ders under Colonel Ackerson. The usual fields for assignment location, routing protocols, and record verification were redacted. "You are now a part of a subsection of Beta-5 Division," Ackerson said, *a top-secret cell within Section Three. All the events at Station Delphi were staged to bring you here in the utmost sprrpry fnr a npw mission " Staging the events at Delph? Arranged by a subcell of Section Three? Something seemed wrong in a way Kurt couldn't quite put his finger on. But part of it made sense n:>w. The partially decommissioned Shaw-Fujikawa drive at Delphi Station was the perfect lure and the ideal excuse for a malfunctioning T-PACK. The sensor echo the Circumference had picked up on the in-system jump was another prowler the ship that had picked up Kurt's exhausted body--after he had been propelled on a not-so-random explosive trajectory. Though he resented the manner in which they obtained him, he had to admire the sheer elegance of the extraction plan. "You have been classified as missing in action," Ackerson said. 'Presumed dead." Something cold contracted in Kurt's stomach. He checked his emotions, though, sensing that in this instance, they might not have been able to help him. *What is this new mission, sir?" Ackerson stared at him a moment, then seemed to look through Kurt, past him. *l want you to train the next generation of Spartans/ Kurt blinked, taking in what Ackerson had just said, not quite understanding. *Sir, I was under the impression that Chief Petty Officer Mendez had been reassigned years ago to carry out that mission/ The effort to train additional SPARTAN-lls was postponed indefinitely by Dr. Catherine Halsey," Ackerson said. There were other candidates within the gene pool, but they were out of synch with her age restriction protocols. And with the continuing war, her program funds were...diverted/ Kurt had always presumed other Spartans were being trained, that he and his fellows were the first in what would be a long line of Spartans. He'd never considered they might be the first, and the last, of their kind. Ackerson said, *Mendez will, of course, join you/ It would be an honor to serve under Chief Mendez/ Kurt replied. One of Ackerson's brows qurked up. Indeed." He motioned at Kurt's secure tablet. *Read. New training protocols have been outlined as well as an improved augmentation regime. We've learned much from the unfortunate medical processes Dr. Halsey had at her disposal/ Kurt balled his hands into fists, remembering the pain of the bone grafts--like glass breaking inside his marrow, and the fire that had burned along every nerve as they had been reengineered for enhanced speed. As he read he started to grasp the opportunities and challenges of this new program. The new bioaugmentations were a quantum leap ahead of those he had received. There were lower projected wash-out rates. There was, however, only a fraction of the original SPARTAN program training time and budget. MJOLNIR armor was to be replaced with something called Semi-Powered Infiltration (SPI) armor systems. *With these new candidates," Kurt said, "you're trying to do more with less." Ackerson nodded. They'l be sent on missions with higher strategic values but correspondingly lower survival probabilities. That's where you come in, Kurt. We need your training as a Spartan, and all your field experience passed along to these candidates. You need to make these Spartans better and train Ihem faster. This program may be the key to our survival in this war/ Kurt scanned the reader again. The new genetic selection protocol expanded the pool of candidates, but there were disturbing references to behavior problems in these less-than-ideal potential Spartans. But this mission was vital tc the war Kurt sensed that. And there would be CPO Mendez. It would be good to be working under his old teacher again. Could the two of them really train a new generation of Spartans? "In ten years/Ackerson said, 'with your guidance and a little luck, there will be a hundred new Spartans in the war. Employing several of these new Spartans to help train the next classes, there will be thousands within twenty years. With projected improvements in technology, perhaps a hundred thousand new Spartans will be created in thirty years/ A hundred thousand Spartans fighting for humanity? The image swam in Kurt's mind. Was that possible? While Kurt didn't understand all the ramifications, he now understood the importance of the end result. His initial feeling of unease, however, remained. How many of these new Spartans were going to die? He steeled himself. He'd do everything he could to see they had the best training, the best equipment, be the best soldiers humanity had ever produced. Even then, though, would it be enough? He took a deep breath. 'Where do we begin, sir?" Ackerson said, *New training facilities are being constructed. You will oversee the operation, and simultaneously begin the screening of candidates. I have an ample supply of willing recruits for you/ He reached into his pocket and withdrew a tiny box, pushed it across the table to Kurt. "One last thing/ Kurt opened the box. Inside were the single silver bar insignia of a lieutenant junior grade. Those are yours now." A faint crease of a smile appeared on Ackerson's face. I'm not going to have my right-hand man taking orders from NCO drill instructors. You're going to be in charge of the entire show/ SECTION SPARTANPg. 12 CHAPTER SIX 1950 HOURS, DECEMBER 27, 2531 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, PLANET ONYX, CAMP CURRAHEE Kurt watched the incoming Pelicans. The blocky jet-powered craft were so distant they were only specks against the setting sun. He hit the magnification on his faceplate and saw lines of fire tracing their reentry vectors. They would touch down in three minutes. In the last six months he had developed a training regime tougher than the original SPARTAN program. He had created obstacle courses, firing ranges, classrooms, mess halls, and dormitories from what had been jungle and scrub plain. He had received every piece of equipment he had requested from NavSpecWep Section Three Guns, ammunition, dropships. tanks--even samples of Covenant technology and weaponry had appeared as if by sleight of hand. All personnel were accounted for: six dozen handpicked drill instructors, physical therapists, doctors, nurses, psychologists, and the all-important cooks^.all here except the most critical person, who was now on the incoming transports: Senior Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez. Mendez had, a dozen years ago, trained Kurt and every other Spartan. He would be invaluable in preparing the new breed of S3ARTAN-III, but he wasn't going to be the solution to all Kurt's problems. After poring over every detail of the new recruits' files, Kurt discovered they didn't match the perfect psychological and genetic markers set in Dr. Halsey's original selection protocols. Colonel Ackerson had warned him they had to draw from a less statistically robust" group. These recruits wouldn't be anything like himself, John, Kelly, or any of the original SPARTAN-II candidates. And this would only add to a long list of challenges. With a final target class four times larger than the SPARTAN He1, a severely truncated training cchcdulc, and the need for thece Spartano in the war increasing every month, Kurt, in feet, expected a disaster. The Pelican jet transports sv/ooped down on final approach and angled their thrusters. The sod on the parade field rippled like velvet. One by one they gingerly touched down. Although Kurt's MJOLNIR armor was not designed to bear rank insignia, he nonetheless felt the weight of his new lieutenant's bars. They pressed down on him as if they were a ton each, as if the weight of the entire was and future of humanity rested squarely upon his shoulders. 'Sir?* a voice whispered into his COM. The voice belonged to the artificial intelligence Eternal Spring. It was officially assigned to the planetary survey team stationed h the northern section of this peninsula. Kurt wasn't sure why Colonel Ackerson had insisted that Camp Currahee be built next to the facility. He was sure, however, there had been a reason. "Go ahead. Spring." "Updated details on the cancidates available/ it said. "Thanks." "Thank me after your so-called test, sir" Eternal Spring terminated transmission with a hiss of static that sounded like angry bees. Cajoled by Section Three brass, Eternal Spring had agreed to devote 9 percent of its runtime to the SPARTAN-HI project. The Al was of the "smart" variety, which meant there were no limits on its knowledge capacity or creativi:y. Despite its occasional theatrics, Kurt was happy for its help. Kurt blinked and accessed the candidates' data on his heads-up display. Each name had a serial number and linked to background files. There were 497 of them, a collection of four-, five-, and six-year-olc children that he somehow had to forge into a fighting force unparalleled in the history of warfare. The hatch on the nearest Pelican opened with a hiss, and a tall man stroode out. Mendez had aged well. His trim body looked chiseled from ironwood, but the hair was now silver, and there were deep creases around his eyes and a set of ragged scars that ran brow to chin. "Chief." Kurt resisted the urge to snap to attention as Mendez saluted. As odd as it felt, Kurt was now his commanding officer. Kurt returned his salute. JSpninr Chipf Pptty Offinpr Mpnrip? rppnrting fnr duty, sirB After the SPARTAN-II program. Chief Mendez had, at his request, been reassigned to active duty. He'd fougH the Covenant on five worlds, and been awarded two purple hearts. "You were briefed on the flight?6 "Completely/ Mendez said. As he looked Kurt over in his MJOLNIR armor, emotions played over his face; av/e, approval, and resolve. 'We'll get these new recruits trained, sir/ This was precisely the response Kurt had hoped for. Mendez was a legend among the Spartans. He hsd tricked, trapped, and tortured them as children. They all hated, and then learned to admire the man. He had taught them how to fight--and how to win. "Do they le: Spartans drink now?6 Mendez asked. "Chief?" "A bad joke, sir. We might both need one before this day is over/ he said. The new trainees are, well, sir, a little wild. I don't know if either of us is ready for this." Mendez turned to the Pelicans, inhaled, and yelled, "Recruits, fell out!* Kids streaned off dropship ramps. Hundreds tromped onto the field, screaming, and throwing clumps of sod at one another. After being cooped up for hours, they went wild. A few, however, milled near the ships, dark circles under their eyes, and they huddled tighter. Adult handlers herded them onlo the grass. "You've read Lord of the Flies, sir?6 Mendez muttered. "I have/ Kirt replied. 'But your analogy will not hold. These children will have guidance. They will have disciplne. And they have one thing no ordinary children have, not even the SPARTAN-II candidates. Motivation/ Kurt linked to the camp's PA. He cleared his throat and the sound rumbled over the field like thunder. Nearly five hundred crazed children stopped in their tracks, fell silent, and turned amazed at the giant in the shining emerald armor 'Attention, recruits/ Kurt said and stood akimbo. "I am Lieutenant Ambrose. You have all endured great hardships to be here. I know each of you has lost your loved ones on Jericho VII, Harvest, and Biko. The Covenant has made orphans of you all/ Every kid stared at him, some with tears now gleaming in their eyes, others with pure burning hatred. "I am going to give you a chance to learn how to fight, a chance to become the best soldiers the UNSC has ever produced, a chance to destroy the Covenant. I am giving you a chance to be like me: a Spartan/ The kids crowded before him, close^.but none actually dared to touch the shimmering pale green armor. *We canno: accept everyone, though/ Kurt continued. "There are five hundred of you. We have three hundred training slots. So tonight. Senior Chief Petty Officer Mendezr--he nodded to the Chief--"has devsed a way to separate those who truly want this opportunity from those who do not/ Kurt handed him a tablet reader. 'Chief?* To his credit Mendez registered shock for only a split second. He scanned the tablet, frowned, but nodded. "Yes, sir/ he whispered. Mendez yelled at the children, "You want to be Spartans? Then get back on those ships/ They stood shocked, staring at him. 'No? I guess we found a few washouts. You/ He pointed to one child at random. "You. And you/ The chosen kids looked at each other, at the ground, and then shook their heads. 'No?* Mendez said. Then get on those Pelicans/ They did so, and so did the others, a slow shuffling procession. 'Drill instructors/ Mendez said. Three dozen NCOs snapped to attention. "You will find Falcon Wing aerial descent units on the field. Load them ASAP and make sure your trainees are properly fitted. Their safe deployment is now your responsibility/ The DIs nodded and ran toward the bundled Falcon Wing backpacks. The Chief turned back to Kurt. "You're going to make them drop?" He raised both eyebrows in surprise. 'At night?" "The Falcons are the safest drop units/ Kurt replied. 'With respect, sir, some of them are only four years old/ "Motivation, Chief If they can do this, they'll be ready for what we have to put them through/ Kurt watched the Pelicans fire their jets and scorch the grass. 'But just in case/ he added, "deploy all dropships to recover the candidates. There may be accidents/ Mendez exhaled deeply. 'Yes, sir/ He started for the nearest Pelican. 'Chief/ Kurt said, Tm sorry that order had to come from you/ *l understand, sir/ Mendez replied. 'You're their CO. You have to inspire and command their respect. Tm their drill instructor. I get to bs their worst nightmare/ He gave Kurt a crooked smile and climbed aboard. Shane clung to the plastic loops on the side of the Pelican's hull. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the other kids--packed so close that he wouldn't have fallen if he let go. The roar of the Pelican's jets was deafening, but still he cculd hear his own heart racing in his chest. This was the end of a journey that had started years ago. He'd heard jets like this when it started, the jets of the light freighter as it rocketed away from Harvest. It had been crowded on that ship, too.filled with refugees trying to get as far away, as fast as they could, from the monsters. Only one in six ships had made it. Sometimes Shane wished he hadn't lived and seen the monsters burn his family and home. When the Navy man had come to visit him in the orphanage and asked if Shane wanted to get even with them, he immediately volunteered. No matter what it took, he was going to kill all the Covenant. They had given him lots of tests, the written kind, blood tests, and then a month-long space trip as the Navy man collected more and more volunteers. Shane had thought the testing was over when they final got into the Pelicans and came to this new place, but he'd barely touched the ground when they'd been shoved back inside and sent back up into the air. He'd gotten a glimpse of the one in charge. He wore armor like Shane had seen in fairy tale books: the Green Knight who fought dragons. That's what Shane wanted. He was going to wear armor like that one day and kill all the monsters. "Check your straps/ an old Navy man barked at him and the other kids. Shane tugged at the black backpack that they'd put on him three minutes ago It weighed almost as much as him, and the straps had been pulled so tight they cut into his ribs. 'Report any looseness/the man shouted over the roar of the engines. None of the twenty other kids said anything. 'Recruits, stand by/ the man barked. He listened into his headphones and then s green light blinked on a panel near his head. The man punched numbers into a keypad. The back of the Pelican hissed open, the ramp lowered, and a tornado screamed around Shane. He yelled; so did the other kids. They all pushed and shoved to the front of the Pelican's bay. The old Navy man stood by the open bay door, unafraid that only a meter to his rear was open sky. He regarded the squirming kids with dsgust. Behind him a dusky orange band marked the edge of the world. Twilight and lengthening shadows slipped over snowcapped mountains. "You will form a line and jump/the man shouted. "You will count to ten and pull this/ He Pg. 13 reached up to his left shoulder grasped the bright red handle there, and made a pretend pull motion. "Some confusion will be normal/ The kids stared at him. No one moved. If you cannot do this/the rran said, 'you cannot be a Spartan. It's your choice" Shane looked at the other kids. They looked at him. A girl with pigtails and missing her front teeth stepped forward. Til go first, sir/ she yelled. "Good girl/ he said. JGo righl to the edge; hang on to the guide line/ She took the tiniest baby sleps to the edge of the Pelican, then froze. She took three deep breaths and then with a squeak, she jumped. The wind caught her. She vanished into the dark. *Next!" the old Navy man said. All the kids. Shane included, slowly formed a line. He couldn't believe they were doing this. It was nuts. The next boy got to the edge, looked down, and screamed. He fell backward, and scrambled away. JNo!r he said. JNo way!" "Next!" the man called, and didn't give the kid cowering on the deck another glance. The next boy jumped without even looking. And the next. Then it was Shane's turn. He couldn't move his legs. "Hurry up, loser/the boy behind him said and gave him a shove. Shane stumbled forward--halting only a half step from the edge. He turned and stopped himself from shoving this kid back. The kid was a head taller than Shane, and his black hair fell into his eyes, making it seem like he was missing head. Shane wasn't afraid of this creep. He turned back to face the night rushing past him. This was what he was afraid of. Shane's legs filled with freezing concrete. The rushing wind was so loud he couldn't hear anything else anymore, not even lis hammering heart. He couldn't move. He was stuck on the edge. There was no way he could jump. But now he was so scared he couldn't even turn around and chicken out, either. If he sat down, though, and then slowly inched back-"Go. dumbass!" The creep kid behind him pushed. Hard. Shane fell off the ramp and into the night. He tumbled and screamed until he couldn't breathe. Shane saw flashes of the dinming sunset, black ground, the white caps of the mountains, and stars. He threw up. Some confusion will be normal The red handle! He had to grab it. He reached up. but there was nothing there. He clawed at his shoulder until two fingers found purchase. He tugged. There was a ripping sound and something unraveled from his pack. Shane jerked straight, his legs whipping after him, and his teeth snapped together from the sudden bone-jarring deceleration. The spinning world stopped. Gasping and blinking away his tears, Shane saw the last bit of amber light fade from the edge of the world, and the stars gently rock back and forth around him. Overhead the wind whistled and rippled though a black canopy. Ropes connected Shane to this wing, and his hands instinctively grabbed them. As he pulled, the wing turned and angled in that direction. The sudden motion made him dizzy again, so he let go. Shane squinted and made out shapes swimming around him: black on black like the bats on Harvest. Those had to be the other kids, gliding like he was. His face heated as he remembered how he'd chickened out at the last minute in the Pelican...in front of everyone. Even that little girl had jumped. Shane never wanted to be scared like that again. Maybe if he imagined that he was already dead, then there would be nothing to be afraid of. It'd be like he'd died with his parents on Harvest. He mustered this mental irrage--dead and nothing to fear--and to test it. he looked down. Past his dangling feet there was a two-centimeter green square. After a moment, he realized it was the field where all the Pelicans had landed. Tiny lines snaked from the field illuminated by tiny firefly pinpoints. 'Nothing to be scared of/ he whispered, trying to convince himself. He forced himself to pull the ropes, angle downward, and speed toward the green field. Wind whipped through the black silk wing, and tore at Shane's face. He didn't care. He wanted down fast. Maybe if he was the first one down, he'd show everyone that he wasn't scared. Shane saw tiny people and scorch marks where the Pelicans had burned the grass. And no other parachutes yet. Good. He'd be first, and he'd land right in front of the Green Knight. Shane hit tie ground. His knees pistoned into his chest and knocked the wind out of him. The black wing caught a breeze, jerked him back on his feet, and dragged him across the grass and dirt. He gasped for air, but he wasn't scared. He was angry that he'd look so stupid having tn wrpstla with this pararhutp The Falcon Wing hit the fence, and stuck there, fluttering. Shane got up and undipped himself from the harness. Something hot trickled down his legs. There was no way he'd been so scared he pissed his pants. With dread, he looked. It was blood. The skin on the back of his legs was raw. He took a tentative step and fire crawled up both thighs. He laughed. Blood or piss, what did it matter? He'd made it. "Hey. dumbass. What's so funny?" Shane turned and saw the kid who had pushed him. He lay on the grass, half tangled in his harness. Shane marched over to him, ignoring the pain in his legs. The kid got to one knee and held out his hand to shake. I'm Rob--* Shane hit him square in the nose. Blood gushed from the kid's face and he reeled over. He was going to pay for shoving him. He was the only one who knew that Shane had frozen on the edge and chickened out. He'd have to pay for that, too. Shane stared pounding him with right and left fists. The kid held up his arms to fend off the blows, but Shane landed a few good ones, skinning his knuckles. Robert headbutted Shane, and he fell off. Robert stood, shook off his harness, then growling, leapt onto Shane. They rolled on the grass, kicking and punching. Shane hea*d a loud snap and he wasn't sure if it was his or Rob's bone breaking; he didn't care, he kept hilting and hitting until blood spilled into his eyes and he couldn't see anymore. Large hands grabbed Shane and pulled him off. Still swinging Shane connected with one of the Navy men, bruising the bone over his eye. The man dropped him. JStand down!* barked a voice with godlike authority. Shane blinked and wiped blood from his eyes. The silverhaired man who had given the order to jump stood between him and the other kid. The Navy man he'd hit pressed one hand to his swollen eye and said, "Chief, these two were going to kill eaci other/ *l see that/ the old man said. He nodded approvingly at Shane, and then turned to Robert. Robert igncred the old man and took a step toward Shane with his hands raised. 1 said STAND DOWN!" Robert dropped his hands and staggered back as if he'd been struck. "I think yoi're right, Sergeant/ the older Navy man said. They really might have killed each other/ He smiled, only it wasn't a smile. It was more like he was baring his teeth. Very good. That kind of fight left in them after their first jump? A night jump? My God, I only hope the rest of them are like this/ CHAPTER SEVEN 0000 HOURS, JANUARY 19, 2532 (MILITARY CALENDAR)/ NARROW-BAND POINT-TO-POINT TRANSMISSION: ORIGIN UNKNOWN; TERMINATION: SECTION THREE, OMEGA SECURE ANTENNA ARRAY, UNSC HQ EPSILON ERIDANI SYSTEM, REACH MILITARY COMPLEX '//AUTOMATED REROUTE UNSC SHIP REG-96667 ABY/ / / FILE ACCESS GRANTED///WORM-PROTOCOL FIREWALL ENABLED/FILE ERASED/// PLNB Transmission XX087R-XX Encryption Code: Gamma Public Key: N/A From: CODE NAME COALMINER To: CODE NAME SURGEON Subject: PROGRESS REPORT/OPERATION HYPODERMIC CLASSIFICATION: EYES ONLY. CODE-WORD TOP SECRET (SECTION THREE X-RAY DIRECTIVE) f TILC DCTRACTION-RCCONGTITUTION COMPLETE / 'START FILE/ Institutional records altered as per instructions. Initial contact with base Al made. Helpful, but i don't trust it. Packages delivered. Selection process started. Operation underway and on schedule. Candidates exhibit marked aggression well out of bounds of the Smith-Kensington index. as much work training them as it is keeping them from murdering each other. they're real hellcats. Lieutenant claims all under control. He has a plan for everything. Unsure where hes getting this confidence, but i do believe he knows what hes doing. are you surprised' 'END FILE/ (SCRAMBLE-DESTRUCTION PROCESS ENABLE/ Press ENTER to continue Pg. u CHAPTER EIGHT 0900 HOURS, JULY 30, 2537 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ABOARD UNSC POINT OF NO RETURN, LOCATION CLASSIFED (15 YEARS AFTER ALPHA COMPANY INDOCTRINATION) Lieutenant Ambrose and SCPO Mendez had been escorted to this catwalk through a series of corridors and high-security biorretric vaults into the bowels of the stealth cruiser Point of No Return. The security officers had then left them standing at attention on the catwalk, and sealed the vaultlike door behind them. Below the metal grating of the catwalk, the shadows swallowed all sound. Three meters to Kurt's left was a slightly curved white wall No door Beyond was Odin's Eye, the high-security conference room where he'd first been told of the SPARTAN-III program by Colonel Ackerson. Think this is some Section Three test?" Mendez finally whispered. "Or maybe someone doesn't like getting news about the lousy selection results for the Beta Company candidates?" Tm not sure.6 Kurt replied 'My requested upgrades for the Mark-ll SPI armor were over budget/ Mendez raised an eyebrow. 'Where did you hear that?" The new Al talks a lot." "Deep Winter/6 muttered Mendez. 1 wonder if Als pick their own names, or if some officer in Section Three does it/ Kurt was about to offer his cpinion when he noticed there now was a door in the curved white wall Colonel Ackerson stood there. 'Gentlemen, join us/ Ackerson then retreated into a brightly lit chamber. Kurt noticed that he hadn't met their eyes. That was always a bad sign. They entered, and as he crossed the threshold, Kurt felt static crawl over his skin. The concave illuminated walls of the chamber were disorienting. Kurt focused on the center of the half-spherical room, on the black conference table. Two officers sat there, gazing at holographic screens that floated in the air ove* its surface. Ackerson waved them closer. A woman sat with her back to them; opposite her sat a middle-aged gentleman. The man was gray and balding. The woman appeared older than regs permitted before mandatory retirement. Her osteoporotic slump, slender frail arms, and thinning white hair indicated extreme age. Kurt froze as he spotted the one-and three-star rank insignia on their collars and snapped off a salute. 'Vice Admiral ma'am," he said. 'Rear Admiral, sir/ The Vice Admiral ignored Mendez and scrutinized Kurt. 'Sit/ she said, 'both of you." Kurt didn't recognize either Df these high-ranking officers, and they didn't bother to introduce themselves. He did as he was ordered, a* did Mendez. Even sitting, though, his back was ramrod straight, his chest out, and eyes forward. *We were reviewing the record of your SPARTAN-llls since they went operational nine months ago/ she said. Impressive." The Rear Admiral gestured at floating holographic panes that contained after-action reports, still shots of ba:tlefields filled with Covenant corpses, and ship damage-assessment profiles. The insurrection of Vlamore/ he said "that nasty business at New Constantinople, actions in the Bonanza asteroid belt and the Far-gone colony platforms, and half a dozen other engagements--:his reads like the campaign record of a cracking good battalion, not a company of three hundred. Dammed impressive." That was only a fraction of the SPARTAN-III program potential/ Colonel Ackerson said. His eyes stared at some distant point. Tm sorry, sir/ Kurt said. "Was1? The Vice Admiral stiffened. It was clear that she was not accustomed to her junior officers asking questions. But Kurt hcd to. These were his men and women they were talking about. He'd kept his eyes and ears open for news on Alpha Company, and had cultivated intelligence sources outside ONI, Section Three, and Beta-5. Being Commandant of Camp Currahee had its privileges, and he had learned how to use them. He had managed to track his Spartans during the last seven months, until his sources had mysteriously gone silent six days ago. Only the Al Deep Winter had given a clue as to their whereabouts: Operation PROMETHEUS. Tell me about the selection process for the next class of SPARTAN-llls/the Vice Admiral asked Kurt. 'Ma'am/ Kurt said, 'we are operating under Colonel Ackerson's expanded selection criteria, but there are net enough age-appropriate genetic matches to meet the larger second-class target number/ There are sufficient genetic matches/ Colonel Ackerson corrected. His face was an impassive mask. *What's missing are data to find additional matches. We need to proscribe mandatory genetic screening in the outer colonies. Those untapped populations are--* That's the last thing we need in the outer colonies/ the Rear Admiral said. 'We're just getting a handle on a near civil war. You tell an O.C. they got to register their kids' genes, and they'll all be reaching for their rifles/ The Vice Admiral steepled her withered hands. 'Say it is part of a vaccine program. We take a microscopic sample as we inject the children. Inform no one/ The Rear Admiral looked dubious, but offered no further comment. "Go on. Lieutenant/ she said. *We have identified 375 candidates/ Kurt said. "Slightly less than we started with for Alpha Company, but we have learned from our mistakes. We will be able to graduate a much higher percentage this time/ He nodded toward Mendez to give the Chief the credit he richly deserved. Mendez sat completely still snd Kurt saw he wore his poker face Every instinct Kurt had screamed that something was wrong here. 'But/ the Rear Admiral said, 'that's nowhere near the one thousand projection for the second wave/ A brief scowl played over Ackerson's lip. 'No, sir/ The Vice Admiral set her hands flat on the table and leaned closer to Kurt. 'What if we loosen the new genetic selection criteria?" Kurt took rote of the \ve* in her question. There was a subtle shift in the power structure at the table. With a single word, the Vice Admiral had made Kurt a part of their group. "Our new boaugmentation protocols target a very specific genetic set. Any deviation from that set would geometrically increase the failure rate/ Kurt said. The thought of dozens of Spartans being tortured and ultimately crippled as they lay helpless in a medical bay filled him with revulsion. He managed to contain the feeling. The Vice Admiral raised one threadbare brow. "You've done your homework. Lieutenant/ 'However as our augmentation technology improves/Ackerson said, 'one day we will be able to expand the selection parameters, maybe to include the entire general population/ 'But not today. Colonel/ the Rear Admiral said, and sighed. "So we're back to about three hundred SPARTAN-llls. That will have to do then/ Kurt wanted to correct him--three hundred new Spartans plus those in Alpha Company. 'Let's move on to the review of Alpha and Operation PROMETHEUS/ the Vice Admiral said, and her face darkened. Colonel Ackerson cleared his throat. "Operation PROMETHEUS occurred on the Covenant manufacturing site designated as K7-49/ A holographic asteroid materialized drifting over the table, a rock with molten cracks that made a spiderweb pattern over its surface. "K7-49 was discovered when the prowler Razors Edge managed to attach a telemetry probe on an enemy frigate during the Battle of New Harmony/ Ackerson said. They then followed the craft through Slipspace. the first and only time this technology has actually worked. I might add. and they discovered this rock seventeen light-years past the UNSC outer boundary/ The image magnified, revealing midaltitude images of factories on the surface that belched smoke and cinder, and showed that the volcanic fissures were canals of flowing molten metal. A gossamer lattice surrounded the asteroid, tiny lights winked on the filaments, and black specks drifted near. "Spectral enhancement/ the Rear Admiral said, 'showed us what they're using all that metal for/ The view shifted closer. The latticework girders were hundred-meter-wide beams, and the black specks appeared to be the bones of whales in orbit over K7-49--a dozen partially constructed Covenant warships. Kurt had a difficult time believing what he was seeing. So many ships. How large was the Covenant fleet? And only seventeen light-years from the UNSC frontier? It could be nothing less than a prelude to an all-out assault. "K7-49 is one large orbital shipyard,* Ackerson explained. 'All the apparent volcanism is artificial, created by these/ He tapped his tablet once more. Thirty infrared dots appeared on the surface of the asteroid. 'High-output plasma reactors that liquefy metallurgical components, which are refined, shaped, and then transported via gravity beams for final assembly/ The PROMETHEUS op was a high-risk insertion onto the surface of K749/ the Rear Admiral explained. Three hundred Spartans hit dirt at 0700. July 27. Their mission was to disable as many of these reactors as possible--enough so the liquid contents of the facility would solidify and permanently clog their capacity to produce alloy/ Colonel Ackerson then tapped the holographic display. 'STARS system and TEAMCAM recorded Alpha Company's process/ A handful of the hot infrared points on :he asteroid's surface flared and then cooled to black. "Initial resistance was light/Ackerson tapped a button and a new window opened. On this display, Spartans in Semi-Powered Infiltration armor systems moved, their camouflaged patterns shifting imperfectly against the molten metal and black smoke of the factory. Kurt wished his suggested upgrades for tie SPI armor's software had been implemented before Alpha had graduated. There was a burp of suppressed submachine gun fire, and a fxd of Grunt salve workers fell dead. 'After two days/ the Admiral said, 'seven rectors were rendered inoperative and a counterforce was finally organized by existing Covenant units/ A new video feed appeared. The vulturelike Jackals moved in squads through large courtyards, and filed ove~ archways. They were more organized than their Grunt counterparts, and they worked in fire teams, rntrlliuUically uleaiiny secliuri by secliun. But Kuil knew his Spartans wuukln'L be curneied. Ttmy would be the hunters. Thirty Jackals moved into a circular CDurt. where Engineers tended a churning pool of molten steel. The Jackals cleared every hiding spot, and then started to cross, warily scanning the rooftops. Flagstones exploded and sent the Jackals sprawling. Sniper fire took out the stunned aliens before they could get their shields in place. "The Covenant counterresponse was neutralized/ the Rear Admiral continued, 'and over the next three days. Alpha Company destroyed thirteen more reactors/ The large infrared asteroid-wide view changed. Two-thirds of the surface had cooled to dull red. 'But/the Rear Admiral said, "a massve counterforce appeared in orbit and descended to the surface " Colonel Ackerson opened three more holographic windows: SPARTAN-llls engaged Elites on the ground, trading fire from cover. Banshee fliers swooped down from building tops--two Spartans fired shoulder-launched surface-to-air missi es and stopped the air assault cold. "On day seven/ the Admiral said, 'adcitional Covenant reinforcements arrived/ The video from a helmet camera showed a dozen SPARTAN-llls limping and falling on a smoldering landscape of twisted metal. There was no unit cohesion. No two-man teams covering one another. In the heat-blurred background. Elites took up superior positions with good cover. "By now/ the Rear Admiral said, 'Eighty-nine percent of the reactors had been destroyed. Sufficient cooling had occurred to permanently shut the operation down. Alpha Company was cut Pg. 15 off from their Calypso exfiltration craft/ The window showing the SPARTAN-llls tilted sideways as the owner of the helmet cam fell. Ackerson rotated the holographic display 90 degrees to rectify the image. Three Spartans remained standing, firing suppressing bursts from their MA5Ks behind a crashed Banshee flier; then they broke from the cover and sprinted--a second before the flier was destroyed by an energy mortar. IFF tags at the bottom of the screen identified these Spartans as Robert, Shane, and, carried between them, Jane. She had been the first candidate to jump that first night of indoctrination. TEAMBIO appeared in another window. Robert's and Shane's blood pressure was close to the hypertensive limit. Jane's bio sigrs were flatlined. Seeing them like this...it felt like someone had driven a metal spike into Kurt's chest. A pair of hulking Covenant Hunters blocked the Spartans' retreat. They raised their two-meter-long fuel-rod arm cannons. Robert unloaded his assault rifle at them, which hardly made the pair flinch as it spanged off their thick armor Shane switched to his sniper rifle and shot through one Hunter's unarmed midsection, and then pumped two rounds into the other's vulnerable abdomen. They both went down, but still moved, only momentarily incapacitated. Elite fire teams, meanwhile, popped up on either side and unleashed a volley of needles and plasma shot. Robert caught a blot of plasma in the stomach--it stuck there, burning through his SPI armor like paper. Screaming, he managed to reload and spray his MA5B on full auto at the Elite who had shot him. TEAMBIO showed his heart in full arrest, but he still grabbed a grenade, pulled the pin, and lobbed it at the enemy fire team ...and then he fell. Shane paused to look at Robert and Jane--then turned back to the Elite fire team, and shot in three-round controlled bursts. More Elites appeared, surrounding the lone Spartan. Shane's rifle clacked, empty. He pulled out his M6 pistol and continued to fire. An energy motor detonated like a small sun two meters away. Shane tumbled through the air, and landed prone, unmoving. "And that's all we have/ Colonel Ackerson stated. Kurt continued to stare at the screen of static, his heart racing, half expecting the feed to go live again and show Shane gather up Robert and Jane, and together they'd limp off the battlefield, wounded, but alive. Seven years Kurt had trained them, and grown to respect them. Now they were dead. Their sacrifice had saved countless human lives, and yet Kurt still felt like he'd lost everything. He wanted to look away from the screen, but couldn't. This was his fault. He had failed them. His training hadn't prepared them. He should have rectified the flaws in their Mark-I PR suits and fixed them faster. Mendez reached over and taoped the Colonel's tablet. The display mercifully blanked and faded away. Ackerson shot the Chief a glare, but Mendez ignored him. "Recent drone recon shows the entire complex cold/ the Rear Admiral said. "No more ships will be built at K7-49/ "Just to clarify.6 Kurt whispered, and then he paused to clear his throat. There were no survivors of Operation PROMETHEUS?* *lt is regrettable/ the Vice Admiral said with the slightest softness now in her voice. "But we would do it again if presented with a similar opportunity. Lieutenant. Such a facility within two weeks' journey of the UNSC outer colonies,,.your Spartans prevented the building of a Covenant armada that would have resulted in nothing less than the massacre of billions. They are heroes.6 Ashes. That's all Kurt felt. He glanced at Mendez. There was no emotion on his face. The man held his pain well. *l understand, ma'am/ Kurt said. "Good/ she said, all trace of pity had now evaporated from her tone. I've put you in for a promotion. Your Spartans performed well above the program's projected parameters. You are to be commended ' Kurt felt the only thing he deserved was a court-martial, but he said nothing. 'Now I want you to focus and accelerate the training of the Beta Company Spartans,' she said. "We have a war to win * CHAPTER NINE 1620 HOURS, AUGUST 24, 2541 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, NEAR CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX (FOUR YEARS AFTER SPARTAN-III ALPHA COMPANY OPERATION PROMETHEUS) Bullets peppered the dirt near Toms head. He pushed farther back into the hole, hugging the ground, trying tc be as flat as possible. The irony was Team Foxtrot had done everything by the book. Maybe that was the lesson today: going by the book doesn't always work. Tom had led them through the forest, evading snipers and patrols of drill instructors waiting to jump them. They made it too easy. That should have been his first clue. The DIs never made things easy for them. When theyd come to the open field he'd checked the perimeter. No one had been there. He'd waited, though, and checked and rechecked. DIs in their Mark-ll Semi-Powered Infiltration armor were hard to spot even with the thermal imagers in his field binoculars. Tom had then warily led his team onto the field and toward the pole with a bell. That was the mission: ring the bell. They had had two hours to find and ring the thing to qualify for continued Spartan training There were 418 candidates, and only three hundred slots. Not all of them could be Spartans. His mistake had been leading his entire team into the clear. They'd all been too eager. It got them ambushed. Machine-gun fire from the treetops rained down on them. Adam and Min in flanking positions were immediatey taken out. Only Tom and Lucy had made it to the muddy hole. It was just deep enough to keep from getting shot. This is crazy." Lucy spat through her mud-covered face. "We gotta do something." They have to run out of ammo sooner or later/ Tom told her. "Or one of the other teams will show up and ge: us out of this jam." "Sure they will/ Lucy said. 'After they ring the bell." She squinted at the trees. There has to be a way out of this. Automated gun turrets up there. That's why they didn't show up on the thermals/ That's whet the Lieutenant was always saying about machines: vThey easily fool the unsuspecting...but they're also easy to break." The guns v/ouldn't kill them--but they'd sure as heck stop them cold. With only gray sweat suits and light boots for protection, the stun rounds hit so hard they numbed whatever they hit: legs or arms or God lelp you if you got nailed in the head or groin or an eye. 'Nuts to this/ Lucy rose into a crouching stance. Tom grabbed her ankle, pulled her down, and punched her in the gut. Lucy doubted, but she recovered fast--rolled over Tom and got him in a stranglehold. Tom shrugged out of the lock and held up both hands. "Come on," he said. Truce. There has to be a way out of this--a way with us not getting shot/ Lucy glared at him, but then said, "What do you have in mind?" "What is the point of this 'exercise/ Lieutenant?" Deep Winter asked. The Al holographic projection of an old man took a step toward the bank of monitors and touched the screen showing a boy and a girl pinned by machine-gun fire. A crackle o" ice spread over the plastic. Chief Mendez stood, and swatted a: a mosquito, frowning as he glanced back and forth among the two dozen displays in Camp Currahee's control center. The air conditioner lad broken, and both Mendez's and Kurt's uniforms were soaked with sweat. Kurt said, "Our candidates are doing well in their studies?* Deep Winter turned his glacier-blue gaze to the Lieutenant. "You've have seen my reports. You know they are. Since you announced :heir grades were a factor in the selection process, they practically kill themselves every night to earn everything before they pass out. Frankly, I don't see--* "I suggest/ Kurt said, "you not worry about seeing the point of my battlefield drills, and focus on keeping the candidates on track with their studies/ What could an Al possibly know what it was like on a real mission? Bullets zinging so close over your head that you didn't so much as hear them but felt them pass. Or what it was like to get hit, but still have to keep going, bleeding, because if you didn't everyone on your team would die? Alpha Company had lost their team cohesion on Operation PROMETHEUS. Kurt vowed that would not happen with Beta Company. Deep Winter ruffled his cape, and a flurry of illusionary snow swirled about the control room. The Al was likely programmed with human safety protocols, so it was natural for it to be concerned. "We don't know what they're capable of," Kurt finally told Deep Winter. "Stick with the by-the-book drills and we'll never find out. either. But put them in an impossible situation, and maybe they'll surprise us/ "Short definition of a Spartan," Mende2 remarked. That's what people had said about the SPARTAN-lls who were the genetic cream of the crop and wore MJOLNIR armor. They could do the impossible, and do it alone. The SPARTAN-llls, though, would have to work together to survive. Be more family than fire team. 'Still/ Deep Winter whispered. "This is cruel. They will break/ Td rather break them/ Kurt said, thai let them go out into the field without ever experiencing an intractable tactical situation/ "Personally I don't think these kids can be broken/ Mendez said more to himself :han to Kurt or Deep Winter. His gaze now firmly fixed on Tom and Lucy. Ten years old and these :wo have so much grit they scare the bejesus out of even me." "Look/ Deep Winter said. "What are those two doing now?" Kurt smiled. *l thinks.the impossible/ 'Let's go over the plan one more time/Tom said. Lucy huddled next to him in the mud hole. "Why? You think I'm stupid?" Tom didn't say anything for a moment, then: "Those turrets are probably using radar to target. So we fool them/ And if they're using thermals?" Lucy asked. Tom shrugged. "Then I hope they nail you first." Lucy grimly nodded and hefted a muddy rock. "So we throw these/ "Into their cone of fire," Tom said. "The small angle will make them hard to track. Maybe tie up their brains for a fraction of a second more.' "Then we run/ "Evasive maneuvers. Try not to step on Adam and Min/ "Got it/Lucy said. Tom grasped his rock tighter and pumped it once, working up his courage. He and Lucy knocked their fists together. They stood at the same time--hucked both rocks. Tom heard gunfire, but didn't pause tc look; he ran right, then left, he rolled and tumbled and then sprinted like crazy for the tree line He felt the dirt near him exploding with tiny puffs. Fire cut into his thigh and his leg lost all feeling. He pushed off with his good foot, and landed Pg. 16 hard on his stomach in the tall grass by the acacia trees. Staccato bullets dotted in the ground centimeters from his prone body...but missed him. He laughed. He was just inside their minimum angle of fire. Stupid machines. He rolled over and spotted Lucy, panting and crouched in the grass. Tom waved to her and then pointed up into the treetops. Lucy gave a thumbs-up signal Tom hopped on one leg. Some of the feeling was coming back ..mostly the feeling of pain. He stomped it out. He couldn't let it slow him down. The drill instructors might show up at any second. He pulled himself up into the lower branches of one of the acacias that shook with gunfire. He used great care to avoid the spines in the tree's trunk. He climbed up ten meters. On a platform sat an old M202 XP machine gun hooked up to an automated fire control. It twitched back and forth, waiting for a target to present itself. Tnm rpanhpri up and disrnnnprtpd thp wirps from thp radar array, and thpn thp pnwpr supply The gun froze. He climbed onto the platforn and unscreewed the securing bolts. He pushed the gun off the platform. It made a satisfying thud as it impacted the muddy ground. Tom climbed down. He grabbed the machine gun, cleared the barrel, and stripped off the remaining autofire control. He test-fired a burst of three rounds into the tree trunk. *Awesome," he said. Lucy was down from his tree as well, machine gun balanced on her shoulder. She moved onto the field to help Adam and Min get up. "Come on/ she said. *We still got a bell to ring/ Adam boosted Tom and then Lucy to make a human ladder and then Min clambered up and clanged the bell. Nothing had ever sounded so good. They all climbed down. 'Now for some payback../Tom said. 'Adam, Min, take up spotting positions*--he pointed--"in those trees there and there/ They nodded and ran off to the trees. "You and me and these/ Tom told Lucy, patting his machine gun. "will set up there/ He pointed to a large boulder. Til be there/ He nodded to the tall grass on the edge of the field. "And do what?6 she asked. *Well, weVe cleared the field and rung the bell. I figure with the other teams getting here and ringing the bell in record times../ Lucy smiled. The DIs will ccme running and gunning/ The DIs at Camp Currahee were a mix of handpicked NCOs, medics, and the washouts from the first Spartan class. The washouts always went out of their way to make the lives of the Beta Spartan trainees hell. Two years ago Team X-ray vanished on a routine exercise up north. A lot of the kids said there were ghosts up there--floating eyes in the jungle--but everyone really knew the DIs had done something and covered it up. ONI even came in and fenced the place off. Called it 'Zone 67r and declared it was 'absolutely off-limits/ It was time to teach those Ds they couldn't get away with bullying Beta Company. Min whistled from the treetops. Teams Romeo and Echo slinked into view. Tom signaled them and explained the plan. Teams Zulu and Lima joined them, and soon two dozen trainees were scattered in the trees and grass, watching and waiting. It only took fifteen minutes before a whistle sounded at three o'clock. There was a subtle motion in the grass on the edges of the field. Tom signaled his scouts to tall back while Lucy maneuvered to get a better line. Tom ran in a crouch to intercept. He spotted three targets, their SPI armor mimicking the grass well, but not well enough to cover the parted grass at their feet. They turned to face Lucy. Tom fired, spraying at knee level where the armor was weakest. Three human-shaped outlines crushed the grass, screaming and convulsing as the rubber bullets pelted them. Lucy joined him and opened fire. When the screaming stopped, Tom moved in and peeled off their armor, revealing three very dazed DIs. They had not identified themselves, so by the rules of engagement they were fair targets. Adam ran up and helped him and Lucy strip the bodies. "Pistols and MA5Ks. both with stun ammunition/ Adam said. Lucy held up a double handful of grenades, and smiled. 'Flash-bangs. xNow,rTorr said, grinning, this really gets interesting/ The moon had come out and set. The grass was wet with dew and Tom's stomach growled so loud he thought it might give away his position in the dark. Five waves of DIs had come, and been neutralized by a now armed, armored, and fully equipped Spartan Trainee Defense Team. The instructors were tied up in the middle of the field by the bell. Hostages. Tom and the other Spartans were working together like they never had before. And they were winning. He was hungry, wet, and cold, but Tom wouldn't have traded places with anyone in the entire galaxy. He heard a rustle in the tall grass, turned, machine gun aimed waist high. There was nothing there, and nothing on the thermals, either. He must be getting jumpy. A hand clamped on his shoulder, while another hand wrenched the machine gun from his grasp. Chief Mendez stood over him. At his side was Lieutenant Ambrose. Tom half expected Mendez to shoot him right there. "I think that's quite enough/ Mendez growled. The Lieutenant knelt beside Tom and whispered, "Good work, son/ CHAPTER TEN 0420 HOURS, FEBRUARY 19, 2551 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ABOARD UNSC HOPEcULt INTERSTELLAR SPACE, SECTOR K-009 [FIVE YEARS AFTER SPARTAN-III BETA COMPANY OPERATION TORPEDO AT PEGASI DELTA) Kurt walked the empty corridors of the UNSC Hopeful and entered the atrium. Blazing lights overhead mimicked a realistic sun. Air recirculators made the leaves of the small grove of white oaks rustle. He smelled lavender, a scent he hadn't experienced since he was a child. The most extravagant feature of the Hopeful however, was the ten-meter curving window in the atrium--something utterly unheard of on any other ship in the UNSC fleet. But then the Hopeful was unlike any other ship in the fleet. Naval officers described her as Jthe ugliest thing to ever float in zero gee.* The sh p had been built before there had been major rebel ac:ivity in the colonies. A private medical corporation had purchased two scrapped repair stations--each a square kilometer plate of scaffolding, cranes, and cargo trams. These two plates had been ccnnected to make an off-centered 'sandwich/ and within, a state-of-the-art hospital and research faciity had been constructed. In 2495 the UNSC had commandeerec the vessel, added engines, minimal defensive systems, six fusion reactors, and a Shaw-Fujikawa :ranslight system, and transformed the Hopeful into the largest mobile battlefield hospital in history While most Naval officers agreed she was unsightly, every enlisted Marine Kirt had ever spoken with declared her the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. The Hopeful had taken on mythical proportions with the men and women who had to fight and die on the front lines. She had been damaged, but had survived, eighteen major Naval battles with rebel forccc and four cncountcrc with the Covenant. The chip's ctaff and techno ogy had a reputation of saving lives, in many cases literally bringing the dead back to life. Today the ship had been parked in interstellar space--essentially the middle of nowhere--by order of Vice Admiral Parangosky. And wiile the thousands of critically ill patients could not be evacuated, the eight decks surrounding docking cluster Bravo had been cleared of all personnel while ONI moved in their equipment and staff. The SPARTAN-III program had to remain under a cloak of absolute secrecy. Kurt wished the Hopeful lived up to her reputation because today the lives of nis Spartan potentials were at stake. His candidates had had to endure sd much in the last year. To accelerate the program's timetable, puberty had been artificially induced. Human-growth hormone as well as cartilage, muscle, and bone supplements had been introduced into their diet, and the children had metamorphosed into near-adult stature within nine months. They had become clumsy in their new, larger bodies, and had struggled to relearn how to run, shoot, jump, and fight. And today, they'd face their most cangerous test. They would either become irreparably disfigured, die, or be transformed into Spartans. No, that wasn't right. While these kds didn't have the heightened speed or strength of a Spartan, they already had the commitment, drive, and spirit. They already were Spartans. Kurt heard boots clicking down the corridor, then muffled steps crossing the atrium lawn. 'Lieutenant, sir?6 Pg. 17 A young man and woman approached with the long loping gaits of people who had spent much time in microgravity. They wore standard Naval uniforms bearing the stripes of a petty officer second class. Both had close-crcpped black hair and dark eyes. Kurt had had to pull a few strings to keep the Beta Company survivors of Pegasi Delta with him. Colonel Ackerson had wanted Tom for his own private operations. And ever-silent Lucy had narrowly avoided an unfit-for-duty classification and permanent reassignment to ONI psych branch For'evaluation/ He'd had to appeal to Vice Admiral Parangosky, claiming he needed Spartans to train Spartans. Over Ackerson's objections, she had agreed. The result: Tom and Lucy had become Kurt's right and left hands over these last years, and Gamma Company were the finest Spartans ever. Tom and Lucy spent so rruch of their time in their SPI armor it took Kurt a moment to recognizes his attaches. Their armor, along with the rest of Gamma Company's Semi-Powered Infiltration suits, was being refitted with new photo-reactive coatings to boost their camouflaging properties. There were other experimental refits--gel ballistic layers, upgraded software suites, and other functions--that would hopefully be working within a year's time. Tom and Lucy snapped off smultaneous salutes. Kurt retuned the salute. "Report/ The candidates are ready to board, sir," Tom said. Kurt got up and the three of them walked back down the corridor and into docking cluster Bravo. It was the size of a small canyon with the capacity to cycle a fleet of dropships simultaneously through its massve air-lock system. There was ample space for triage and trams that could whisk an entire company of wounded soldiers to emergency surgical faculties. Air locks screamed and there was a sudden gust of fresh air Dozens of bay doors parted and Pelicans rolled into the bay on steam-powered beds. The Pelicans' rear ramps lowered and the Spartan candidates filed out in orderly rows. Kurt had briefed them abou: the procedures. They'd be sedated and injected with chemical cocktails and surgically altered to give them the strength of three normal soldiers, decrease their neural reaction time, and enhance their durability. It was the final step in their transformation to Spartans. It was graduation day. He'd briefed them on the ris the bioaugmentation phase of th^ SPARTAN-II program, how more than half of those candidates had washed out--either dying from the procedure or becoming so badly deformed they couldn't stand. This would not happen to tie SPARTAN-llls with the new medical protocols, but Kurt had wanted one final test. Not one of the 330 candidates had opted out of the program. Kurt had had to petition Colonel Ackerson for thirty extra slots for this final phase. He simply didn't have it in him to randomly cut thirty--when every last one of them was willing and ready to fight. Ackerson had gladly granted his request. Kurt stood and saluted as the line of candidates passed him. They marched by, returning his salute, heads held high, and chests out. On average only twelve years old, they looked closer to fifteen with the sculpted musculature of Olympic athletes many had hard-won scars; and all had an ineffable, confident air about them. They were warriors. Kurt had never felt so proud. The last candidate lingered and then halted before him. It was Ash, serial number G099, leader of Team Saber. He was one of the fiercest, smartest, and best leaders in the class. His wavy brown hair was slightly over regulation length, but Kurt was inclined to let it slide, today of all days Ash snapped off a precise salute. "Sir, Spartan candidate G099 requesting permission to speak, sir" "Granted/ Kurt said, and finished his protracted salute. 'Sir, L.6 Ash's voice cracked. Many of the boys had problems with their vocal cords, still recovering from the rapidly induced puberty. *l just wanted to let you know." Ash continued, "what an honor it's been to train under you, Chief Mendez, and Petty Officers Tom and Lucy. If I don't make it today, I wanted you to know that I wouldn't have done anything differently, sir." "The honor has been mine/ Kurt said. He held out his hand. Ash stared at it a moment, and then he grasped Kurt's hand, clasped it firmly, and they shook. Tl see you on the other side/ Kurt said. Ash nodded and left, catching up to the rest of the candidates. Tom and Lucy both nodded their approvals. They're ready/ Kurt whispered. He looked away so he wouldn't have to meet their gazes. *l hope we are. Ws're taking a hell of a risk/ CHAPTER ELEVEN Kurt, Tom, and Lucy stopped at a staff conference room, now an improvised ONI command and control center. Medical technicians in blue lab coats watched 330 video monitors and biosign sets. Tom spoke lo one of the techs while Kurt's gaze flicked from monitor lo monitor. He then went down to the open surgical arena. It had four hundred sections--each partitioned by semiopaque plastic curtaining, and each fitting with a sterile-field generator that blazed with its characteristic orange light overhead. Kurt entered one unit and found SPARTAN-G122, Holly, there. The partitioned area was crammed full of machines. There were stands with bio monitors. Several intravenous and osmotic patches connected her to a chemo-therapeutic infuser, loaded with a collector of liquid-filled vials that would keep Holly in a semisedated state while it delivered a cocktail of drugs over the next week. There was a crash cart and portable ventilator nearby, as well. She strugged to rise and salute, but she fell back, her eyelids fluttering closed. He went to Holly's side and clasped her tiny hand until she settled into a deep sleep. She reminded him of Kelly when she was this young: full of spunk, and never giving up. He missed Kelly. He had been dead to his fellow SPARTAN-lls for almost twenty years. He missed all of them. The chemo-therapeutic infuser hissed, vials rotated into place, micromechanical pumps thumped, and bubbles percolated inside its colored liquids. It was starting. Kurt remembered when he went through the augmentation. The fevers, the pain--it felt as if his bones were breaking, like someone had poured napalm into his veins. Holly shifted. The bio monitors showed a spike in her blood pressure and temperature. Tiny blisters appeared on her arms and she scratched at them. They filled with blood and then quickly smoothed into scabs. Kurt patted Holly's hand one last time and then went to the infuser and lifted the side panel. Inside were dozens of solution vials. He squinted, reading off their serial numbers. He spotted "8942^099* inside the infuser. That was the carbide ceramic ossification catalyst to make skeletons virtually unbreakable There was '88005-1^1X77,* the fibrofoid muscular protein complex that boosted muscle density. i88947-OP24* was the number for retina-inversion stabilizer, which boosted color and nighttime vision. "87556-0061* was the improved colloidal neural disunification solution to decrease reaction times. There were many others: shock reducers, analgesics, antiinflammatories, anticoagulants, and pH buffers. But Kurt was looking for three vials in particular, ones with different serial numbers--009927-DG, 009127-PX, and 009762-OO--that didn't match any standard medical logistics code. They were :here, bubbling as their contents were drained and mixed with picoliter precision. He heard fcotsteps approaching. Kurt lowered the panel of the infuser and stepped back to Holly's side. There was "ustling of plastic curtains and a medical technical in blue lab coat entered. Is there anything you need help with, sir?6 the medtech asked. JAnything I can get you?" 'Everything is fine,6 Kurt lied. He brushed past the man. *l was just leaving/ 0210 HOURS, FEBRUARY 20, 2551 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ABOARD UNSC HOPE=UL, INTERSTELLAR SPACE. SECTOR K-009 Kurt sat alone in the atrium viewing the candidates' progress on his tablet. He'd spent the last twenty-four hours awake, by their sides, and then caught four hours of sleep. He'd go back to them shortly when they awoke to congratulate the candidates. Correction: congratulate the Spartans. Every last one of them had made it. Kurt wished he could feel relief, but there were too many unknowns. "Lieutenant Ambrose/ A female voice sounded over SHIPCOM. "Report to the bridge immediately/ He got up and marched to the eleva:or. The doors closed and the elevator rushed through sections of normal and zero gravity; Kurt held fast to the railing. Kurt and his Project CHRYSANTHEMUM team were supposed to be left alone--orders directly from FLEETCOM brass. So why ths summons to the bridge? The doors opened. A lieutenant commander stood with arms akimbo waiting for him, a woman barely a meter and a quarter with a gray widow's peak. JMa'am/ Kurt saluted. 'Lieutenant Ambrose reporting as ordered. Permission to enter the bridge/ "Granted," she said. 'Come with me.* She skirted the edge of the large low-lit room. Not only were its three dozen officers monitoring navigation, weapon, communication, aid drive systems; there were teams controlling structural-stress compensators, tram traffic, water, power-load distributions, and ecoreclamation subsystems. The Hopeful was more city space station than ship of the line. The Lieutenant Commander pressed her palm to the biometric by a side door. It parted, and they both entered. The room beyond was lined with shelves of gilt antique books. Old globes of Earth and a dozen other worlds had been tastefully set about a koa-wood desk that gleamed like go d under the light of a single brass lamp. An old man sat in the shadows. That will be all. Lieutenant Commander," the man said. He stood and Kurt saw three stars flash on his collar. Kurt reflexively saluted. "Sir!* The Lieutenant Commander left, the door closing and locking behind her. The Vice Admiral walked around Kurt once. Vice Admiral Ysionris Jeromi was a living legend. He'd taken the Hopeful, a ship with virtually no weapons or armor, into battle three times to save the crews of critically wounded ships. He had saved tens of thousands of lives, and almost been court-martialed for it. too. War needs its heroes, though. The then Admiral had lost and regained stars from his collar but he had also received the UNSC's highest wartime decoration: the Colonial Cross. Twice. Tm not sure who you are.r the Vice Admiral said, and his bushy white brows bunched together. "Someone a lot more important than 'Lieutenant Ambrose,' or whatever your name really is" Kurt knew better than to say anythinc unless asked a direct question. He stood at attention Pg. 18 The code-word classification of :he SPARTAN-HI project prevented him from divulging anything, even to a vice admiral, without clearance. He walked back to his desk, reached into a drawer and retrieved a black sphere the size of a grapefruit. JDo you know what this is. Lieutenant?" 'No, sir," Kurt said. "Slipspace COM probe/ he said. *A stationary Shaw-Fujikawa driver launches one of these black 'bullets' into Slipstream space on an ultraprecise trajectory. It rips through the laws of known human physics, and drops back into normal space at some very distant coordinates. Like your own personal carrier pigeon. Do you understand?" *Yes, sir," Kurt said. 'Like s Slipspace science probe. I've seen them launched from Station Archimedes. Or the new ODST drop pod that can be fired from a ship still in Slipspace." 'Nothing like that at all. Lieutenant. Those are just dropped into, and then out of Slipstream space--more like a turd swirling around in an old-fashioned gravity toilet than precision engineering/ He patted the black sphere. This beauty actually navigates through Slipspace. Traverses as far and as fast as any UNSC ship. Damn near magical if you appreciate the mathematics. You understand now?" Kurt wasn't sure what the Admiral was fishing for. He had been asked a direct question, however so he answered. Ifwhal you have said is accurate, sir, it would revolutionize longdistance communications. Every ship would be fitted with such a device." 'Except for what it costs to a build an ultraprecise Shaw-Fujikawa low-mass launcher/ the Vice Admiral replied, "you could ouild a fleet of ships. And for the cost to make one of these little black balls*--he rolled the probe perilously close to the edge of his desk--'you could buy the capital city of some back-water CDlony. There are only two such launchers. One on Reach and one on Earth." The Vice Admiral returned to Kurt and his pale blue eyes stared into Kurt's. This probe arrived fifteen minutes ago/ the Vice Admiral told him, "forty million kilometers from the Hopeful Entry vector matches neither Earth nor Reach as the point of origin. And it's for you/ Kurt had a dozen questions, but dared not raise any of them. He felt like he walked on a razor's edge of secrecy. The Vice Admiral snorted and moved to the door. There's protocol for top secrecy on this, so use my office, Lieutenant. Take as much time as you need." He palmed the door and it opened. He paused and added. If there is an/ danger to my ship or my patients, I expect to be informed, son. Orders or no/ He left and the door sheathed closed. Kurt approached the black sphere. There were no obvious controls or displays. Light shed off its surface like water beading off oil. He touched it and it warmed Ice appeared in snowflake patterns and crackled over the Vice Admiral's desk. Holographic snow drifted through the office and coalesced into a white cloak, chiseled features, glacier eyes, and a cane of crystalline ice: Deep Winter "My god," the Al breathed. "And I thought rear admirals were long-winded. I thought old Jeromi would never leave/ Deep Winter smoothed his rear-skeletal hands over nothing, and a blue sheen permeated the air. "Counterelectronics package inline/ How did you get here7* Kurt asked. His mind struggled to grasp the ramifications. Als had large footprints; they needed installations, and massive power sources to fuel their minds. Deep Winter couldn't be here. And how could the Al manage to alterthe approach vector from Earth's or Reach's COM launchers? Deep Winter held up a hand. "Stop. I see your mind in logic lock. Lieutenant. It would, perhaps, help to explain." 'Please/ Kurt whispered. "First," Deep Winter said, *we may only communicate in a limited fashion. I have imprinted a faction of my intellect into the memory matrix of this probe. The process has irreversibly destroyed a portion of the home base processing powers, so please do not waste the precious minutes we have. There is also insufficient remaining power in this probe for a prolonged debate." Kurt nodded. This had cost the Al a high price so he would do his best to listen. "Also, let us not waste time debating the nuances of this Slipstream-space COM probe. That is classified, and you don't have clearance/ Then what are we talking about?" Kurt asked. "I have fourd three anomalies to the current bioaugmentation protocols/ Deep Winter clapped his handed together and two gyrating collections of steel spheres appeared. These represent the protein complexes miso-olanzapine and cyclodexione-4/ Deep Winter explained, "which were secreted into the alteration regime/ Kurt leanec closer to the spinning molecules. They are antipsychotic and bipolar integration drugs/ Deep Winter said. He clapped his hands and a third molecule appeared: twisting silver and gold blobs. 'And this," the Al said, "is a mutagen that alters key regions in a subject's frontal lobe Deep Winter faded to semitranslucency. *lt enhances aggression, making the animal part of the mind more accessible in times of stress. Someone so mutated has reserves of strength and endurance no normal human could call upon. Such a person could also continue to fight under the influence of wide systemic shock that would instantly kill a normal human. The mutagen, however, depresses the higher reason centers of the brain overtime," the Al continued. The antipsychotic drugs and bipolar integration medicines counter this effect. As long as the SPARTAN-llls have these agents in their system, they compensate/ Kurt understood all of this. Under extreme stress the counteragents would metabolize quickly, and the primitive brain would take over. His Spartans would fight and be harder to kill. The effect was only reversed by the counteragents. It was dangerous. His Spartans could lose ability to reason. It might give them the edge needed to survive though. Deep Winter continued to fade. The Al had always placed the Spartan candidates' well-being over their training or any agenda Section Three had for them. "You care fDrthem in your own way/ Kurt said. The Spartans." "Of course I do. They are just children, regardless of what has been done to them. You must halt the protoco. Brain mutations were specifically outlawed by UNSC MED COPRS in 2513. The moral argument algorithms are robust/ Deep Winter shrank to a single tiny snowflake glimmer on the desk. *l am a fifth-generation smart Al, Kurt. I have reached the end of my effective operational life on Onyx. By the time you return, I will have been shut down and replaced. I have left files." The snowflake glistened, its tips melting. Deep Winter whispered. "You must proceed cautiously; I arr unsure who in ONI has masterminded this illegal procedure, but they will surely attempt to cover it up ' The snowflake melted, and with it all holographic traces of Deep Winter vanished. The surface of the black COM sphere heated, the surface bubbled, and thin ribbons of smoke curled from within. Yes, they would cover it up. When Kurt returned to Onyx he would inform Colonel Ackerson...and then they would arrange to have all of Deep Winter's files purged. The mutation had been Kurt's idea. He had had to persuade the Colonel to allow it, and they had even kept t a secret from the others in the SPARTAN-HI subsection cell to preserve their * plausible deniability/ Kurt had seen too many of his Spartans die; he would have broken a hundred regs and bioethical policies to give his people the slightest chance to survive one more battle. His only regret was not being able to do more. Deep Winter's Instinct" to save the Spartans was misguided. None of them could be protected that way. Warriors fought battles; they prevailed, but all inevitably faced death. Even his children candidates understood that. They did not, however, have to die so easily. Kurt turned from the COM probe, and left the Admiral's office. He had to go congratulate Gamma Company..and welcome them into the brotherhood of Spartans. SECTION INTRUDERS Pg. 19 CHAPTER TWELVE 0645 HOURS, OCTOBER 31, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, NEAR ZONE 67, PLANET ONYX Two flash-bang grenades detonated--balls of lightning and thunder and fluttering leaves. Ash fell and reflexively curled into a ball. He'd seen the steel hexagonal tubes a split second too late, and then their images hsd been burned into his retinas. They'd been too well camouiaged, chest level in the trees. Stupid. He wasn't thinking, letting his blood rise and get the best of him. He uncurled and rolled to his feet. They only thing he heard was his hammering heart; otherwise he was deaf. Ash blinked to clear his blurred vision. Team Saber was down. Mark, Olivia, Holly, and Dante were on their knees. Their SPI armor camouflage buffers had been wipsd by the flash-bangs, and only the faintest beige camo patterns were beginning to resolve like buises. The new photo-reactive coating technology could mimic a wide range of EM radiation, but it was still sensitive to overload. He pulled Mark to his feet, snook him. Mark nodded and then got the others up. Ash motioned them back, reversing the direction they had walked into this trap. They only had a moment before Team Katana moved in for the kill. This was his fault. He'd been too eager, too easily pushed into action without thinking. Mark had spotted a sniper from Katana and Ash had too quickly decided to flank to the left...and walked straight into the rea/trap, the flasi-bangs. But that was the point of tiis exercise, wasn't it? Compress three Spartan squads into a square kilometer arena--think fast or die. Or worse, in this case, think fast or lose. Ash held up a hand, halting his team. They would not fall straight back. If he were Team Katana he'd have set up another Irap for a retreating enemy. He motioned for them to hook right. Team Saber moved in a crouch through the brush, slow, careful, eyes wide. Olivia took point, and she vanished into the green shadows. Ringing started in Ash's ears. That was a good sign. Another half meter closer to those grenades and he'd have lost the eardrum. In situ cloning was an excruciatingly boring procedure, and he'd be happy to avoid the two-week mandatory downtime. A red status light winked from Olivia. The team froze. Five meters ahead, a fern bent and sprang back. Ash rapidly blinked his green status light: the signal to open fire. This was the best target they'd had all morning. Suppressed gunfire surrounded him. The fern exploded into a shower of confetti. A single Spartan hidden by the fern turned, their SPI armor flashing silver from the staccato of stun rounds that peppered its surace. Their foot caught on a root and they tumbled. Ash repeated the go-ahead signal, and his squad made sure the target stayed down with several bursts of well-placed rounds. The ballistic gel underlayer of their armor could take a heck of a pounding beftre breaking down. After three seconds, he flashed red, and they ceased fire. Olivia moved up and slapped a lime-green sticky flag on the still-writhing Spartan's back. The target was now Dfficially 'dead/ Ash activated a NAV marker and alerted C and C for pickup of the "corpse/ The ground trembled, just for a moment, but all the Spartans in Team Saber froze and then scanned the jungle, looking for the source of the disturbance. Earthquake? Not likely. There was no tectonic activity on Onyx. That left only two possibilities: impact or detonation. Neither was especially welcome. Ash motiored for Saber to move out. They slinked through the jungle and emerged on a plain. Here small limestone granite and quartz mesas, grottos, and fissures extended to the north--up to and hpynnd thp high fpnrp nf 7nnp fi7 The Zone was where the "ghost* of Onyx was supposed to be. It'd been spotted once or twice according to other Spartan candidates: a single eye in the dark. They just made up that stuff to scare plebes. Ash had, however, heard of a Beta Company squad that had vanished near here and never been found. He looked around warily and spotted a naturally eroded tunnel that extended through a hill Ash pointed anc Team Saber settled inside to assess the tactical situation. Ash pulled off his helmet, and wiped the blood from his nose and hair. "Too close/ he said. 'Still, we got one,6 Holly said, pulling off her own golden mirrored helmet, *and we didn't lose one of ours.,.although you sure gave it a good try.6 She scratched the fuzz on her head, which she had buzz-cut in:o a series of bear-claw scratch patterns. The length was a-okay by the regs, but some of the othsr teams teased her about it. Holly got a little wild about the teasing, and she had been demoted twice for fighting. Dante removed his helmet and felt his scarred face for any damage. Satisfied, he retrieved two black flash-banc grenades from his pack. 'Found these, just before yours went off. Caught the trip wires/ Ash nodded. He should have reprimanded Dante for sticking his hands near a set of primed grenades. Then again, Dante had near-magical abilities when it came to explosives. He always knew when they were about to go, and when they wouldn't. That or he was the luckiest person he'd ever seen. Olivia kept her SPI helmet on. She slipped out of the cave, taking up a guard position outside. Ash wasn't worried. She was the best sneak in Gamma Company. They called her 'O6 for short because she wss as whisper-quiet as her vowel namesake. Ash turned to Mark. Head check,6 he said, and patted his friend on the back of his helmet. Mark pulled the helmet off, and Ash saw a nasty bruise on his cheek. Mark ran his hands over his shaved head and worried the edges of that bruise. Tm fine,6 Mark said. He smoothed the inner lining of his armor, making sure it was perfect, and then slipped the helmet back on. ThQy callQC Mark *ThQ Mark," bQcausQ h9 was thsir bsst marksman--good with a snipsr rifle, but better with a rifle on full auto in all-out target-rich free-for-all. The more pressure on him, the cooler he got. Ash spotted bands of rough onyx along the tunnel wall, black and white and streaked with flecks of gold. He ran a gloved finger over the patterns, intrigued by the geological oddity. He then snapped out of it and focused on the here and now. He slipped his helmet back on. "Audio check.6 Ash whispered over TEAMCOM. Green status lights winked back. Good. No one was deaf. A dull thump echoed off the distant mesa walls, and dust rained down from the cave ceiling. Team Saber instinctively dropped to a crouch. Ash pulled his sidearm. 'Big one,6 Dante muttered. 'Artillery? One of the new four-forties?6 "I don't think the Lieutenant Commander would use artillery on us,6 Ash whispered. 'Not normally,6 Holly replied. "But this is the last test. Maybe he's pulling out all the stops to figure out who'll get top honors/ Top honors. Ash had pushed Team Saber to stay on top for the last three years: honing their specialties; leaning every lesson Endless Summer threw at them; and thinking, moving, and acting together as a single razor-edged weapon. Only two other teams were even close in the rankings. Gladius and Katana. Top honors would mean bragging rights and respect It would mean they were the best. That they'd won. OverTEAWCOM, Ash said, "0, you get a direction on that blast? Olivia's status light winked red. "Okay/ Ash said, "we'll assume it's artillery for now. I can't believe the Lieutenant Commander would be using it..but Mendez is another story. You hear incoming, scatter and take cover/ Four green LEDs lit on his heads-up d splay, acknowledging the order. Ash had read somewhere that you never heard the artillery shell that killed you. He had no desire to personally test that battlefield legend. 'What's the plan for Katana and GladiusT Mark asked. "Katana's down one/ Ash replied. 'We'll focus on the weaker of the two. We'll find--" Another thump and the ground shuddered. "Closer/ Olivia whispered over TEAMCOM. "Vector north/ Ash stepped out of the tunnel and too SPI armor blended into the rocky terrain. If this was another trap, then they we*e probably stepping out right into a sniper's line of fire. But Ash didn't think so. No one would use Drdnance that big so close, not even Mende2. An explosion like that wasn't something you could throw together from rocks ard branches and a couple of flash-bang grenades, either,.so that eliminated Teams Katana and Gladius. So who was doing it? Forty meters to the north was the triple fence surrounding Zone 67. Electrified razor wire, motion sensors, and lanes of minefields made an effective barrier. If pressed. Team Saber could have gotten around it--but they wouldn't. The LC's orders had been crystal clea*: DO NOT CROSS. It would count as an instant disqualification for top honors. What about the other teams? Just a qjick hop over and lateral move to flank him? No. None of them would risk a disqualification. There was a dust storm about three kilometers into Zone 67, a wall of sand, swirling smoke^.and fire. A distant mesa exploded--vaporized into a mushroom of glittering quartz dust, a hail of boulders, and roiling flame. Ash instinctively ducked, and his insides clenched. He'd seen big explosions before. Noth ng like that, though. Two kilometers/ Dante said. 'Felt that one in my bones/ They watched the stones rain from the sky. "A few Archer missiles maybe../ Mark murmured. Dots swirled about the edge of the expanding cloud of dust. If Ash didn't know better he'd have sworn they were vultures. But Onyx didn't have raptorlike avian species. Ash zoomed magnification on his faceplate. At five-times he saw the dots had a three-fold symmetry. He unslung his sniper rifle and sited through the scope. They were drones of some sort. But not UNSC MAKOS. Not Covenant Banshees fiers. either. They were a few meters long. Three dull steel booms that surrounded a central eye, glowing like molten iron. No obvious jets. No cockpit. There were a dozen of them. 'Has to be an experimental prototype," Dante said. Maybe Zone 67 is a testing range for new weapons/ "They wouldn't be 'testing' a megaton worth of destructive force while we were so close/ Ash countered. Or was this part of the final test? Some new threat that the three squads would have to band together to defeat? That would be Chief Meidez's style: change the rules in the middle Df a test. The drones moved away from the atomized mesa, drifted closer to Team Saber's location, stopping short just on the opposite side of Ihe Zone 67 fence, where they circled another butte. Ash spied motion atop that formation. Shutters from a a camouflaged bunker pepped open, and heavy machine-gun fire strafed the drones. The lead drone's three booms snapped forward to make a triangular flat plane. A glimmering Him of gold popped into place and fifty-caliber rounds impacted and bounced off. 'Energy shields!6 Dante said. "Has to be Covenant/ Ash reluctantly agreed with this assessment. This was no game, no final honors test. The war had arrived on Onyx. He broadcast over an open COM channel: "Currahee C and C, come in. This is Saber One. Pg. 20 We have an emergency/ No answer His radio light was green. He was broadcasting, but no one was listening. JRadio check," Ash said to his team. 'Everyone try to get the Lieutenant Commander or the Chief Try to raise the Agtncourt, too." Ash used his sniper rifle and tracked the drones. The remaining eleven lined ud behind the one distorted to form an energy shield; their red eyes aligned and pointed directly at the mesa top. Men emerged from the bunker with M19 missile launchers. The drones' eyes flared to a brilliant gold--energy projected forward, flicking like a rapier strike. The men and bunker wavered a moment, erupted into flames, and vaporized. The mesa top Lhen delurialed iuLu a cluud ufdusl arid mullen ruck. The ground tilted and cracked. Team Saber retreated into the tunnel and debris rained over them. Ash squinted back through tie haze. The drones had scattered and moved forward, zigzagging over the rocky terrain: a search pattern. He moved to the opposite eid of the tunnel and risked another open COM broadcast. Team Katana, Team Gladius, Covenant activity in Zone 67. Forget the test, guys. We've got a situation." Classification: Restricted (XXX-XD Directive f START FILE / DECRYPTION PROTOCOL / FLASH TRANSMISSION TO CAMP CURRAHEE COMMAND AND CONTROL CHAPTER THIRTEEN ENDLESS SUMMER DIRECTED TO LIEUTENANT COMMANDER AMBROSE--EYES ONLY 0700 HOURS, OCTOBER 31, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, NEAR CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX ZONE 67 UNDER ATTACK. Kurt scanned the horizon with his binoculars. He watched the pattern of the wind in the tree line, the birds that had taken wing, and a whisper of smoke that snaked up from the canopy. There was :rouble in the air From his perch in the *tree house' he couldn't see the source of the disturbance near the Spartan test area. The tree house was a platform a hundred meters off the jungle floor in the titan arms of a banyan tree. The only electronics here were the radio and the Al projection unit. Everything else was low-tech: optic binoculars and telescopes, parabolic sound collection dishes, good old-fashioned signal flags. JWhat's the Agtncourt got?* he asked Mendez. Chief Mendez turned to Kurt, pressing the bud receiver into his ear *A lot of static. Encountering broadband interference. They're moving to high orbit to get a clear picture/ The Agtncourt had just delivered supplies for the incoming Delta Company. Kurt had asked for little observational assistance before they broke orbit. JPass my thanks to the Commander/ Kurt said. Chief Mendez's face darkened. They're breaking up." The dish-sized Al projector sparked to life, and warm red sunlight sparked and filled the tree house. It solidified into a tall Cherokee brave, bare-chested, wearing buckskins, feathered spear in his massive hard. This was Endless Summer, the ONI Al stationed at the ultrahigh-secure facility thirty kilometers to the north, a place that technically no longer existed, it was so secret. The Al gestured for Kurt and then he vanished, replaced by the lightning-bolt symbol for a UNSC priority flash communique. The Al that had replaced Deep Winter was aloof, had barely tolerated Kurt and his staff, and it never initiated communication. This was trouble. Kurt stepped closer and the pad scanned his biometrics. Several files were beamed directly onto his retina, a top-secret protocol that gave a new twist to the phase 'eyes-only* security. He read: Per general order 98.93.120, I am authorized to take command of all military personnel on ONYX UNDER EMERGENCY CIRCUMSTANCE, I HEREBY EXERCISE THAT AUTHORITY AND ORDER ALL UNDER YOUR COMMAND TO IMMEDIATELY DEFEND ZONE 67 FROM EMINENT DANGER. Attacker Identity: Unknown. Nonhuman orgin ATTENTION: Possible Covenant vectors ATTENTION: Possible non-Covenant vectors you are authorized with code-word clearance patriot-seven-blue to review the following condensed material of immediate benefit, any breach of code-word classification confidentiality is punishable by the death penalty as per unsc miljag 4465/lhg, the Warttime Aticlles of Secrecy, and the amended Articled of the United Security Acts of 2162. 'END/ 'ATTACHED FILE 1 OF 9/ United Nations Space Command Priority Tranmission FLASH91762P-06 Encryption Code: BLACK Public Key: file/seasonal/ From: CODE NAME ENDLESS SUMMER To: / Lieutenant Kurt Ambrose, special attache. Logistical Operations Command (NavLogCom), Oofficeof (investigations UNSCMID: 045888947 Subject: Emergency Alert Status May 6, 2491 (Military Calendar) Field report A76344-USNC.ENGCORP Subjecy: Survey Planet XF-063 Reporting Officer: Captain D. F. Lambert UNSC.ENGCORP/UNSCMID: 03981762 XF-063 is a rare jewel of a find. There is an oxygen-nitrogen-inert gas atmosphere of SUITABLE PRESSURE AND A MODERATE WEATHER CYCLE. THERE IS A SURPRISING ABUNDANCE OF INDIGENOUS FLORA AND FAUNA, WHICH UPON CJRSORY INVESTIGATION POSES NO DANGER. In FACT, EDIBLE Pg. 21 species present. (see additional reports for details) transplant of earth species possible, Notable anomalies: No detectable tectonic activity, but there is still an unusually strong planetary magnetic field. Slightly higher than normal background radiation measured, but well within tolerable standards. Additional geological testing recommended. No terraforming effort required. Colonization recommended, f END / I ATTACHED FILE 2 OF 9/ February 19, 2492 (Military Calendar) Field report A79052-USNC.ENGCORP Subject: Geological Expedition Four, Planet XF-063 Reporting Officer: Lieutenant W. K. Davidson UNSC.ENGCORP/ UNSCMID: 07729654 The northern plateau region of the midlatitude landmass has an abundance of granite and quartz varieties forming hills and mesas. Breathtaking onyx quarries. Additional exploration of this region has revealed limestone of organic origins, specifically an ancient coral reef with a rich fossil history.. Cursory investigation has yielded several ancient species of unknown origins, and entire phylum found of possibly alien "axonomy. Recommendation: Follow-up survey. Specialist requested in paleo-and xenobiology and biochemistry, /END/ 'ATTACHED FILE 3 OF 9/ January 3, 2511 (Military Calendar) Order 178.864007 Subject: Security RECLASSIFICATION Issuing Officer: Rear Admiral M. 0. Parangosky, Office of Naval Intelligence, Section Three/ UNSCMID 03669271 Effective immediately all materials mentioning, referencing, or containing reports, surveys, personal notes and logs, images, or any other data pertaining to or about the planet catalog no, xf-063 (also known colloquially as *onyx*) is hereby reclassified to top SECERT, EYES ONLY. UNSC systemwide network purge authorized by Office of Naval Intelligence (ref no, 0097833), under the direction of MILAI. ID: 477-SSD. 'END/ 'ATTACHED FILE 4 OF 9/ October 22, 2511 (Military Calendar) ONI Field report A84110 Classification: TOP SECRET, CODE-WORD Subject: Status of ruins in Zone 67 Reporting officer: Lieutenant Commander J. G. Ortega. Office of Naval Intelligence, Section Three/UNSCMID: 7631073 Concerning the alien ruins discovered in Zone 67, we continue to find evidence of an advanced culture with a superlative gra5p of mathematics and astrogation, with some possible artistic representations that suggest a space-faring race (see attached digital images of onyx carvings). Their numerous hieroglyphics, while at first glance comparable to ancient terrestrial Aztec variants are, in fact, nothing at all like these primitive Earth counterparts. Several layers of symbology suggest a higher-dimensional approach to their language, if it can even be truly thought of as writing or language in any human sense. Translation continues to elude all experts, human and Al. Recommendation: Increased FUNDING AND EXCAVATION WILL UNDOUBTEDLY YIELD HITHERTO UNKNOWN TECHNOLOGIES. Additional Note: No further information has been discovered regarding the glowing sphere discovered by beta company trainees. the subsequent detonation of the sphere obliterated all clues of its origin. /END/ /ATTACHED FILE 5 of 9/ September 2, 2517 (Military Calendar) ONI Field report C384409 Classification: TOP SECRET. CODE-WORD Subject: Status of ruins in Zone 67 Reporting Officer: Commander J. G. Ortega, Office of Naval Intelligence, Section Three/ UNSCMID: 763'073 New facilities went operational as of 0500 hours today. Smart AIs functioning in tandem as per specifications with some prelimianry success on some of the simpler, low-dimensional hieroglyphics. Continued excavations of millions of cubic feet of earth in Zone 67 yield ruined buildings. carvings, and tablets, but as with the other regions no discoveries of a technological nature discovered (or f there are, we lack sufficient understanding to discern their function). Carvings depicting the inhabitants of Onyx still not found. Whatever these creatures looked like, for the moment, remains a mystery. The senior staff now believes that a sudden cataclysm claimed the inhabitants of this world. Unknown if pathological, sociological, or radiological in nature. This may, however, explain the higher-than-normal background radiation levels. Recommendation: Increased staff and funding. The ruins are so extensive they could take several lifetimes to unearth them all. this entire world may be covered in similar ruins. new technologies certainly must have survived and await discovery. /END/ /ATTACHED FILE 6 OF 9/ March 6, 2525 (Military Calendar) Order 276 8 91 848 Subject: Zone 67 Funding Issuing Officer: Admiral M. 0. Parangosky, Office of Naval Intelligence, Sechon Three/ UNSCMID: 03669271 Gentlemen, III be brief. After a_most fifteen years of continuous and ruinously expensive research without a single hen useful technology discovered, the budget of the Onyx initiative has been reprioritized. Although the alien artifacts and hieroglyphics continue to be of interest, recent rebel activities in the outer colonies demand that we face realities and reallocate our finite Al and military personnel to counter this new threat. Onyx is to remain classified, code-word top secret, all materials and files have been redesignated under the nomenclature KING UNDER THE MOUNTAIN. Pursuant to order 178.8.64.007 any breach of code-word classification confidentiality is punishable by the death penalty as per unsc miljag 4465/lhg, the wartime articles of Secrecy, and the amended Articles of the Homeland Security Act of 2162 a skeleton crew and one al will continue to probe the mysteries of zone 67. maybe thetll hit pay dirt. IN The Meantime, The Rest Of Us Have A War To Fight. (END/ Kurt never finished reading Endless Summer's flash transmission. An explosion darkened the horizon with a mushroom cloud of fire and dust, and the holographic page dissolved before Kurt could scan the rest of the files. The projector sputtered, sparked, and died. The intel Endless Summer had just sent swam through his mind. Alien ruins? Possible Covenant invasion? What did the Al mean by possible non-Covenant vectors? *We have to get out of here," Kurt said. Chief Mendez continued to stare at the distant blast. JArtillery. Maybe a missile strike?6 Kurt scrutinized the shape of the blast cloud. *No. it's highly asymmetric. There are uneven heat blooms. I'd guess a directed energy weapon." The Chief picked up the radio and again tried to raise the Agmcourt. This is Camp Currahee C and C. Come in, over?" Static. Try the squads/ Kurt said. Mendez nodded. "Saber come in. Katana? Report, this is Chief Mendez. Gladius/ He clicked the mic. This time, there wasn't even static, only dead air. *You think"--Mendez looked up at the sky--the Agincourt did something?" The Chief crinkled his silver brows together, worried. It was an emotion Kurt had never before seen on the old man's features. Another detonation shook Zone 67. What had been a distant granite bluff Urned into a disintegrating rain of dust. *WeVe received orders to defend Zone 67/ Kurt said. Mendez sighed and shrugged. Tve go: my M6 sidearm." He patted his holster. JAnd a knife in my boot. You?* Kurt held out his hands. ^Should be a fair fight then." Mendez remarked. He tried the radio again. JCome in. Saber/ Pg. 22 His voice filtered through the speaker crackling with pops and static. Kurt shook his head. 'Something's jamming the transmission. Our Spartans aren't going to fight with stun rounds and flash-bang grenades. They'll head to the armory at Camp Currahee/ "Tom and Lucy should already be there/ Mendez said. He moved to the zip line that stretched from the tree house top to the jungle floor. He grabbed the line, wrapped slide casing on, and then jumped over the edge. For a man pushing sixty, the Chief moved like a soldier thirty years younger. It wasn't the first time Kurt had wondered what kind of Spartan he would have made. Kurt followed down the zip line, free-falling for a moment, then squeezing the line to brake; he landed hard. They ran for the Warthog parked on the dirt track at the base of the tree house. Kuil jumped iuLu Ihe driver's side, and Luiued Lhe engine uvei. The vehicle uuuyhed Lu life and purred. 'No EMP damage/ Mendez said. 'Or the coil would have been fried/ It was almost a disappointment. A nuke, Kurt could understand. Fissile materials were used only by the UNSC or rebels--human forces. He floored the accelerator and the Warthog fishtailed, and then the tires caught and they bumped down the dirt track. The day suddenly brightenec, and an extra set of shadows crisscrossed the jungle floor. Kurt slowed the Warthog, and looked up at the sky. The canopy obscured his view, so he turned off the track and drove into the jungle bouncing over exposed roots, and then down the bank of the Twin Forks River. Here Kurt had a clear line Df sight to the sky. and he noted the sun had moved to a new position lower in the sky. No, it hadn't moved. There were two suns. This new sun faded and a ring of smoke expanded around its center. This fireball seemed to pause, and then it shattered in a starburst of glittering molten metal. In high orbit, the Agincourt exploded. CHAPTER FOURTEEN 0715 HOURS, OCTOBER 31, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, NEAR ZONE 67, PLANET ONYX Ash ran for his Ife over the rocky ground. He wasn't sure how the thing was tracking him in his SPI suit, but it was. He looked over his shoulder and saw the three booms and single eye of the drone flash in the sunlight. It accelerated and skimmed over the ground in pursuit of Team Saber. 'Scatter!* he ordered overTEAMCOM. That drone's beam weapon could melt through their armor in the blink of an eye. Ash wasn't going to take the chance of it wiping out his entire squad with a single shot. Mark and Dante broke left. Holly went right. Ash didn't see Olivia; she had to be stealthing. Ash decided to flat-out run straight ahead, hoping to draw its fire. He risked another glance back: the drone veered left after Holly. She sprinted up a slope. Ash saw this slope ended in a sheer cliff a hundred meters ahead of her When she got there, she'd be trapped. Even if she jumped, and survived, then the drone would still have her, firing from above. He wouldn': let that happen. He ran back. Holly skidded to a halt at the cliffs edge. The drone angled above her and its central spherical eye burned red. Ash fired his MA5B assault rifle. A translucent gold energy shield shimmered around the drone, and the ubber rounds bounced off. The central eye continued to heat. He wasn't giving up thai easily. Those shields weren't like Covenant shields, invisible until they interacted with projectile or energy. Ash had seen these pop into place just before his round had struck. He had to try something else. Ash picked up a rock and sidearmed it at the drone. It was nowhere near as fast as a bullet, but it was a great deal heavier. The stone hit, and spanged off one of its metal booms, scratching it. No shields this time. The drone hesitated, and one boom looked like it twitched. Ash noticed that the three booms were not connected to the center sphere. They all just floated there. What was this thing? It closed on Holly. She fired at it. but its shields snapped into place once again, deflecting the rounds. She loo She was going to jump. "No way,6 Ash whispered. He grabbec a fist-sized chunk of onyx and hurled it with all his strength. It connected--dead center with the drone's spherical red eye. "YesF he cried. The drone rotated to face Ash. His elation instantly evaporated as the thing glided toward him, picking up speed. Ash turned and ran; he jinked right and then left. The ground exploded. Heat washed over him, and he flew head over heels. He landed flat on his back, slapping at the last moment to break the fall. Ash rolled, and with only a slight limp, he kept running. He hoped the other squads were having better luck. Olivia had picked up Katsna squad's signal. They'd reported they were being forced into Zone 67. They'd lost their signal shortly thereafter. They'd never gotten word from Gladius squad. Either they were dark or dead. He looked back: the drone was almost on top of him. Its single eye heated to a cherry-red cinder, preparing another blast of energy. Ahead there was a crevice in the rock, a sinuous two-meter channel that could have been a deep river a million years ago before this place dried up. He sprinted for it and dove. The channel was much deeper than he had imagined. He buunued ufTLhe walls and lauded Leu meters farther at the bottom. The shadow of the drone flashed overhead and vanished. Ash slowly got to his feet, and held his breath. Had he lost it? Maybe they had a chance after all to-The drone reappeared overhead. He could run down the channel, but with all its twists and turns, he'd be slow. Besides, it didn't even have to hit him with its energy beam. One shot at the walls and he'd be buried alive. Ash was trapped. So he stood absolutely stilL.hoping it could only detect motion. The drone dropped into the channel snd stopped hallway down--staring directly at him. The eye glowed dull red, heating to molten golden. If Ash didn't know better he'd say the machine looked angry. He needed to let the rest of Saber know where he was, at least know what he had discovered. Radio silence was no help now. He clicked on his COM. and turned up the gain to maximum. They only track high-velocity objects,' he said over the COM. The drone hesitated and its booms moved in and out almost as if it were...what? Attenuating his signal? Trying to hear him? Ash yelled over his COM, "STOPT The three booms locked in place and the drone drifted back a half meter. It had heard him. 'What do you want?* Ash said. The drone crept closer. His own voice blasted though his helmet's speaker: *Fhejelet Pnught Juber." Ash shook his head clear. "I don't understand." He held up his hands spread wide and shrugged--the universal l-don't-know gesture. *Fhejelet non sequitur, now?" 1 got part of that/Ash said. *Non sequitur--that's Latin, right?* Ash wasn't sure what this thing was. or what it was trying to say, but it definitely wasn't Covenant. The Covenant had language translators, and they didn't sound like this. The Covenant generally used them only to pronounce florid curses just before they vaporized planets. This close, Ash could see the inert curve of the drone's booms, and could feel the heat from its eye. Tiny golden hieroglyphics shimmered around the sphere, floating a centimeter off its surface. Ash squinted, but couldn't make out the characters. "Security protocols enabled,p the drone spoke over the COM. *l understood that," Ash replied. 'Ring offensive system activated/ it said. 'Shield in countdown mode. Exchange proper counterresponse. Reclaimer/ 1 don't want to hurt you/ Ash tried. He had no idea what this thing wanted. 'Non sequitur/ it said. 'Reclassification of targets as non-Reclaimers. Aboriginal subspecies. Collect for further analysis--else neutralize as possible infection vector." Ash understood with perfect clarity 'neutralize/ The drone advanced, spreading its bocms apart like an open maw. He was out of ideas Pp. 23 A rock hit the drone, a granite chunk a half meter across. It glanced off the drone's ventral boom. The impact made the drone dip, but it recovered, and its booms shifted, geometry rearranged so it now stared up at the edge of the channel. Team Saber stood there, looking down--all of them hefting large rocks. Two stones collided into the drone's spars, and one shattered directly on its eye. It dipped to the ground with a crash, and the spherical eye heated to blazing white-hot. The dirt around it fused to glass and bubbled. A boulder barely fitting within the channel bounced of the walls--and flattened the drone. The eye, crushed to an oblate shape, crackled and cooled to dull red and then black. The thing's three metal spars radiated out from uncerthe rock like a flattened spider. Ash pxhalpd, Ipt his adrpnalinp subside*, and hp nlimbpd nut nf thp chasm Mark and Dante helped him jp. They'd saved each other a hundred times before, but those were always drills. Even under live-fire conditions, it had never been like this. For real. Ash wanted to tell them that they were like brothers and sisters to him. All he could manage without his voice breaking was: Thanks, guys." Holly replied, "Well, thanks hr being bait/ "Good call using rocks/ Oliva whispered. Ash nodded. "We've got to get under cover/ he said, "back to the jungle/ "No, back to camp/ Mark said. "Grab some real ammunition/ Dante added, "Explosives, tco/ Ash saw motion in his peripheral vision. Three more drones flew over the mesas, moving back and forth...searching. CHAPTER FIFTEEN 0745 HOURS, OCTOBER 31, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, PLANET ONYX. NEAR CAMP CURRAHEE Kurt eased the VVarthog to a stop half a kilometer outside Camp Currahee. A large shadow crossed the tree line ahead, and a flock of red-tailed parrots took flight. He jumped out and motioned Mendez to the brush at the side of the road. They hunkered down, and watched as an unmanned drone glided over their Warthog and paused. The machine wasn't a UNSC design. It might have been Covenant, but they never varied from their big-ugly oolate blue-gray ascetic. The thing was floating whisper silent, and that meant antigravity techrology...which likely made it nonhuman. He remembered Endless Summer's flash transmission with a chill. Possible non-Covenant vectors. The geometry of the drone shifted: the sphere in the center floated forward along the length of its lateral spars. Kurt's first nstinct was to grab his assault rife and fire. He had a superior flanking position. He reached for his weapon, and then recalled they had no weapons save Chief Mendez's sidearm and knife. He decided hiding was, for now the soundest strategy. The drone circled the Warthog, and then satisfied, it continued down the dirt track. Kurt waitec until the drone disappeared into the jungle and then he motioned for Mendez to follow him through the trees to the edge of Camp Currahee. Three hundred meters of jungle had been cleared around the horseshoe-shaped camp. From the edge of the clear zone, Kurt saw several of the alien fliers circling the buildings and parade grounds. JZigzag patterns/ Mendez whispered. They're looking for something. Or someone/ There was an explosion from the center of camp. Not like the energy blast they had witnessed on the road. This was the dull crack of a fragmentation grenade. The drones over the camp slowed and turned, and all moved in the same direction--the NCO quarters. That's our chance/ Kurt said. JGo. Run/ With the drones distracted, they sprinted across the clear zone, slipped past the gate guardhouse, and ran to the Spartans' dormitories. They crawled under the raised building. Shadows slipped over the adjacent gravel roads and paths as the drones silently glided overhead. Kurt held ud a hand to Mendez, and saw the older man cover his mouth to muffle his panting. As much as he admired the Chief, that sprint had taken something out of him. They watched until there was a break in the shadows, and they ran for the next building, the NCO quarters. Kurt spotted the source of the drones' distraction: a heap of wreckage, three bent booms, and a charred sphere lying smoldering in the NCO's inspection yard. Someone had taken one of the alien fliers out. Across the yard and under the infirmary appeared the red glare of a laser sight--trained on Kurt. He started to twist to one side. Wher a targeting sight was on you, you moved. But this was no threat. It was a signal. He pointed and then Mendez saw it, too. The laser flashed once more and then it winked off. Mendez started to move; Kurt checked the airspace, and then pulled the Chief flat against the wall as another drone floated overhead. It passed. They ran to the infirmary and dove under. Waiting for them in the shadows were perfectly camouflaged smudges of mottled gray: Tom and Lucy in their SPI armor. Mendez said in a low voice, JYou two are the best dammed things I've almost seen all week/ Kurt felt the same way, but he didn't have the luxury to say so. He was in command, and that required a certain distance, no matter how nuch he cared for these two. Luuy iiuUUtfd and Luuk up pusiliuri aluny Ihy edye uf the buildiny, uu yuaid. "Report/ Kurt said. *We count twenty-two drones within the camp perimeter/ Tom said. 'Any other camp personnel here?* Kurt asked. *No, sir/Tom replied. "All missing...or dead/ He took a deep breath. *We'e neutralized two drones with grenades. They have shields and deflect assault and sniper rounds. Slower projectiles are not deflected. We've learned that from a weak transmission from Team Saber/ 'Saber is here?* Mendez asked. 'Negative, Chief/ Tom said. "We never hooked up with Saber, Katana, or Gladius after Zone 67 went active. There were no additional transmissions after the one/ Kurt watched Mendez's reaction. The man looked rock solid, and there was no trace of the worry he had seen earlier. He knew he could count on him, Tom, and Lucy no matter what. *We may be on our own for a long tine/ Kurt told them. "We have to make the most of our position at Camp Currahee. Tom, get to the armory, collect grenades, det cord, whatever else looks good. Forget the ammunition, though, they're all stun rounds. Don't overload/ Tom nodded. *Yes, sir/ "Chief/ Kurt said, "get to the command center. Fire up the generators to boost power and get on the auxiliary COM. It might be strong enough to punch through this radio interference. Send a general distress. Bounce it between the antenna arrays. It might confuse these things long enough to get through. Try and raise any survivors from the Agtncourt" They both knew the odds of escape pods being out of the range of that blast. Still, they had to try. 'Leave a note/ Kurt continued. In case the other Spartans come here. Tell them to gather supplies and meet us at El Morro Point/ 3Aye aye/ Mendez replied. Kurt checked his watch, a self-winding antique mechanical. "Mark time as 1045. Lucy and I will pick up ammunition and then arrange for a distraction in one hour. Then make for the jungle, and we'll meet up at El Morro Point/ "Yes, sir/Tom and Mendez said. They then crawled to opposite sides of the infirmary, waited for the drone shadows to vanish, and then they rolled out. "Lucyr She belly-crawled over to him. 'Follow/ He moved to the building's edge. Lucy in her SPI armor became his shadow. Kurt pointed to the small whitewashed house across the quad: the Camp Commandant's residence where Kurt had lived for the last twenty years. They waited three long minutes for the overhead shadows of patrolling drones to vanish. He and Lucy entered the house and closed the door. Kurt had never locked it, but now, some part of his mind made him reflexively turn :he tiny bolt on the door. The house was small, three rooms comprised of an outer office, a toilet area, and Dunk. There were framed pictures on his office wall, a Greek urn with ancient wrestlers in an alcove, and neat stacks of paperwork on his desk--the receit deployment orders for Gamma Company. He wished whatever was happening had started last week--when there had been three hundred Spartans on Onyx. The tactical situation would be much different. Lucy lowered the bamboo blinds, and :hen hesitated by the pictures on the wall. Pg. 24 Kurt joined her For the last five years the SPARTAN-II program had been publicly promoted by Section Two to boost morale. There were shots of Spartans in their MJOLNIR armor helping wounded marines onto a Pelican, Spartans surrounded by fallen Covenant Elites. Spartans standing tall Heroes all. The SPARTAN-llls had studied their legendary predecessors, their battles, and their tactics--learning from the best. He glanced at Lucy, her expression inscrutable within her mirrored helmet, and then he looked back to the pictures. There wasr't a single photo of a SPARTAN-HI on the wall, however, and not one public mention of their sacrifices. And there never would be, either. Kurt wished it was different, and that he'd taken the small steps to improve his Spartans sooner. The emphasis on their team training, the SPI-armor system upgrades, the new mutations--it hardly seemed enojgh. This way," he told her, and turned to the steel door set near the bathroom. He palmed the biometric and let the facial and retinal scanners play over his face. The door silently opened and they entered. Fluorescent lights flickered on, revealing a room lined with ammunition lockers, rifle racks, crates labeled SPNKr, and dozens of grenade bandoliers. Titanium girders crisscrossed the walls and ceiling, reinforcing the room so it could withstand a direct bomb blast. He opened one floor-to-ceiling weapon cabinet and showed Lucy the arsenal of Covenant rifles, pistols, and grenades within. JStart packing/ he told her Take all the live ammunition. Fill up six duffels. Take the SPNKrs, all the grenades, too.* She held out both hands, pa ms up, and made a down-up-down motion. The sign for "heavy/ *We'll have to make a few trios." Kurt moved to the corner and stood before the two-and-a-half-meter-square stainless-steel safe. He dialed the combination and the door clicked and opened with a hiss as the pressurized nitrogen atmosphere vented. Kurt pulled open the safe's heavy door. A green glow suffused the room. Lucy froze with a SPNKr auncher in one hand, plasma pistol in the other. She moved trancelike to his side and stared at the contents of the safe and let out a tiny strangled sound of surprise. Inside was a suit of MJOLMR armor. The muscular plates glistened ghostly green over the jet-black ballistic underlayer. It looked formidable even standing there empty. The last time he had worn t was when he had greeted the Alpha Company recruits. Since then he had meticulously cared fDr it, and learned everything there was about its maintenance. Its fusion pods had been refitted when Kurt had been assigned to recon Station Delphi, so it had sufficient power for fifteen years of continuous operation. MJOLNIR armor was superior in every way to the SPI suit. Wearing it Kurt would be able to protect his SPARTAN-llls better, destroy these drones more efficiently, but after decades of drilling into the Spartans the importance of working together, of being a family, the MJOLNIR armor would symbolically isolate him from them. And that was the last thing he wanted. He pulled a locker out from under the suit's stand and opened it Within was a matte gray set of Semi-Powered Infiltration armor He removed his boots and pulled on the PR leggings. Lucy pointed to the MJOLNIR armor, and then at Kurt. "No,* he said. That's not what I am anymore. I'm one of you/ SECTION IV DR. CATHERINE HALSEY CHAPTER SIXTEEN DATE STAMP [[ERROR]] ANOMALY \ ESTIMATED RANGE SEPTEMBER 15-DECEMBER 20. 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ABOARD DECOMMISSIONED UNSC CHIROPTERA-C-ASS VESSEL (ILLEGAL REGISTRY) BEATRICE, IN SLIPSPACE, LOCATION UNKNOWN Dr. Halsey straightened her gray wool skirt, smoothed her tattered lab coat, and then donned lead gloves and apron to protect her from the beta and alpha particles being emitted from the acceleration matrix. Around her lay the disassembled panels and radiation shields of the ship's Shaw-Fujikawa translight engines. She delicately guided the spork she had confiscated from the Beatrices galley through the tangle of electronics. She slipped the utensil's edge into the slot of the tiny screw on the super-cooled superconducting magnet. She rechecked the calculations in her head. Two millimeters, three turns, should do it. Dr. Halsey twisted and loosened the screw. The rainbow glow gushing from the matrix intensified, and she blinked tears from her eyes. Sparks danced off the metal plates and arced between titanium supports. She glanced through the propped-open door to the bridge. The engineering display showed a 32 percent jump in coil power. Good enougi. She replaced the Shaw-Fujikawa core access panels and slumped to the floor. Sixty years ago when Shaw-Fujikawa drives had first been installed in spacecraft Ike this one. technicians had had to perform manual acjustments all the time. The magnetics that aligned the acceleration coils drifted out of phase when they transitioned into Slipstream space, where the laws of physics only occasionally worked as expected. No computer controls were used: electronics always malfunctioned close to the core. Of courcc, many of thocc technicians had died or had mysteriously vaniched. Dr. Halsey had considered dropping ojt of Slipspace and powering down the Chiroptera-class vessel to make the adjustment. It wotld have been safer, but that first activation of the Shaw-Fujikawa engine had almost resultec in a coil overload. She didn't know if the lit:le ship had another jump left in her. She toweled the perspiration off her face and then checked her film badge. She'd li/e, at least, for the next few moments. She pushed off the bulkhead and free-floated onto the bridge. The Beatrice's command center had been designed, or rather redesigned, by its farmer owner, rebel Governor Jacob Jiles, for comfort rather than efficiency. Every surface save the d splays was curved and padded with cream-colored calfskin. The captain's chair had massage and :emperature controls--even a ridiculous feature: a cup holder. Dr. Halsey checked on Kelly. She had strapped Kelly into the first mate's chair lo keep her from drifting away. A line ran into an input port on the interior elbow joint of her MJOLNIR armor, pumping dermacortic steroids to help her regenerate the burns that covered 72 percent of her body..and enough narcolytive sedatives to keep her unconscious until she was needed. I'm sorry, you would have never cone on your own," she said. "Spartans are attracted to suicide missions like moths to flames. But this is much more important than any military solution.B Dr. Halsey pushed away and drifted to the Beatrices computer control. Her laptop was attached to the multiinterface port, and the infiltration protocols had almost finished wiping the ship's primitive security lockouts. Pg. 25 She plugged a sandwich of memory crystal and processor boosters into her laptop. These components she had appropriated from what was left of the Gettysburg's gutted Al core. She then withdrew a pea-shaped chip from her lab coat. This was not from the Gettysburg. She gingerly set the chip into her laptop's auxiliary reader port. A tiny spark lit and lifted off her computer's two-by-two-centimete* holographic projector. "Good afternoon, Jerrod/ "Good afternoon. Dr. Halsey* the spark replied in a formal British voice. 'Although technically according to my internal chronometer it is morning/ There have been a few temporal anomalies since we last spoke/ she said. Indeed? I look forward to the explanation, ma'am/ "So do 1/ she murmured. After an alien artifact and combat in warped Slipstream space had distorted space-time, Dr. Halsey wasn't so sure precisely what time line she belonged in. Quantum paradoxes that once seem a quaint mental exercise w^re now a part of her reality. "How may I be of service?* Jerrod asked. Dr. Halsey smiled at the simple Al. Although she often thought of Jerrod as a toy, it was a Fully functional micro-AI. The experiment had been initially to see how long a budding smart Al would last in a constrained processor-memory matrix. The theoreticians at Sydney's Synthetic Intellect Institute calculated its life span to be a matter of days. Jerrod, however, had fooled the experts at the "Double S.I/ It had rapidly grown but then stabilized within its pea-sized cell of memory-processor crystal. Jerrod would never be a tenth as a real "smart* Al like Cortana, nor even as smart as a traditional 'dumb* Al of unlimited proportions. But he had a spark of creativity and spunk, and despite the stuffy butler persona he had adopted, she liked him. Jerrod had one other feature uniquely suited for Dr. Halsey's purposes: portability. Other Als required an institute, a starship, cr at the very least a full set of MJOLNIR armor to function. 'Diagnostics on the Beatrica's systems, please/ Dr. Halsey said. Then correlate the data slice downloaded from Cortana's memory core and prepare for analysis. Execute a database search on stellar coordinates input into the NAV system; expand search parameters within five light-years of origin/ "Stand by, ma'am. Just have to dust off the old circuits. Working,,/ 'And a little Debussy, please/ she said. *Les Sons etlesparfums toument dans Vairdu soin" Jerrod's mote of light shrank to a pinpoint of brilliance as he pushed his processing abilities. After five seconds, moody piano notes tickled through the bridge's speakers. "Done/Jerrod replied, souncing almost out of breath. 'Display Cortana's time-sliced correlated log/ Dr. Halsey had appropriated Cortana's truncated mission log when she had been on the Gettysburg. She had accessed and erased a portion of the Al's memory involving Sergeant Johnson. At the time, it also seemed logical to download a thumbnail sketch of everything she and John had been through. Cortana's voice narrated a slideshow of images. Dr. Halsey saw John and the crew of the Pillar of Autumn fight the Covenant on the alien ring artifact, and then witnessed the horrific Flood as it infested human and alien bodies. She closed her eyes as the assimilated Captain Keyes was destroyed. 'Rest easy, old friend,* she whispered. "Limit references to Forerunrer entries alone/ she told Jerrod. Dr. Halsey listened to Cortana and the Forerunner artificial intelligence, Guilty Spark, spar..until they revealed the true purpose of the Halo construct: the extermination of all life in the galaxy. 'No wonder the Covenant are so interested in these artifacts/ she said. 'Ma'amr 'Nothing, Jerrod/ She now also understood Cclonel Ackerson's interest. Dr. Halsey had taken the liberty of rifling Colonel Ackerson's top-secret files on Reach before the Covenant destroyed the facility. In a file labeled "King Under the Mountain* there were pieced-together data from the hieroglyphics stone found on Cote d'Azure in the Sigma Octanus System, and discovered coordinates that had pointed to the alien ruins on Reach under Castle Base. Was this ai arms race for Forerunner technology? The last bread crumb in this long trail was an encrypted folder in Ackerson's secret files, the one labeled 'S-lll/ In it were extensive medical records on her SPARTAN-lls. As if Ackerson were studying them. There was one other reference: "CPOMZ" and the 512-long alphanumerical string that represented old celestial coordinates She typed n the string. 'Display all data on stellar objects at these coordinates/ This coordinate system is antiquated. Doctor/ Jerrod said. 'Not used since extrasolar manned space exploration/ He paused. It falls outside UNSC-controlled space/ 'Most space is, Jerrod. Show me/ A glowing oall of white gold appeared on-screen, with spectroscopic analysis, and a list of planets scrolled by. There was nothing habitable: ice balls and gas giants. "The Zeta Doradus system/Jerrod remarked. "There is a peculiar lack of data/ Indicating something hidden? Dr. Halsey had gambled everything on something being here. Ackerson's 'S-lll/ This was an obvious reference to SPARTAN-HI What else could it be with all the Spartan bio-medical data he had accumulated in that folder? The confirming clue was the 'CPOMZ* reference attached to the celestial coordinates--Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez, the man who had trained her SPARTAN-lls. Since Ackerson could not destroy her Spartan program, he had funded and recruited trainers for his own? It chilled her to think what shortcuts he might be taking..and what he might be doing with his own private army of Spartans. She lookec back at Kelly's unconscious form. Dr. Halsey couldn't save her Spartans, they were already indoctrinated and on the front lines^.but she might be able to do something about these new, as yet theoretical, SPARTAN-llls. Dr. Halsey settled in the padded captain's chair. 'Screens off, Jerrod/ The displays faded. She squinted her eyes shut. She had betrayed everyone, John and Admiral Whitcomb, abandoned them, and stolen this ship to pursue.,.what? Wild geese? Why? Tights," she told Jerrod. 'Wake me in six hours/ "Yes, ma'aTi/The lights dimmed and only the NAV station LEDs gleamed. Dr. Halsey didn't want to think about "why/ but the ugly truth wouldn't go away: the human race faced extinction. She had thought it bad enough fighting the Covenant, but now they knew the location of Earth. Humanity's horreworld had withstood centuries of attempts at self-destruction, but soon the aliens would amass a leet and make all their struggles moot. To this, she factored in the horrific Forerunner weapon. Halo, which could annihilate all life throughout the calaxy. And then there was the Flood, a nightmare parasite that may or may not have escaped the Halo construct, an organism that even the Forerunners had feared. Her conclusion was irrefutable. The UNSC, her Spartans, all the people she admired, would struggle against the inevitable. It was human instinct. But it was wrong. They could never win this war. They could only survive it. And then, only f they were very lucky. So it was up to her to take the only logical action: run. John and the other Spartans would never turn away from a fight, but she might be able to convince these other Spartans, trick them if necessary, into surviving. They were lumanity's last chance to endure the coming darkness. Dr. Halsey awoke with a start. Time, Jerrod. And lights, please/ The lights on the bridge warmed to half intensity. "It is five hcurs fifty-seven minutes since we last spoke. Doctor. I was about to wake you. We are close to our destination/ Dr. Halsey grabbed her medical bag and rummaged though its contents. She found a syringe of narcolytic metabolase, an enzyme tiat would consume all analgesic agents in Kelly's blood-stream. She removed the line from her MJOLNIR armor port and the drug. 'Powering down Shaw-Fujikawa translight engines/Jerrod said. 'Exit vector calculated/ Mathematics scrolled across the screens. 'Very good/ Dr. Halsey said, scrutinizing his equations. 'But the saddle point in the imaginary plane should convolute here/ She touched the screen. That way we recapture the particle accelerator energy in the plasma coils/ 'Yes, Doctor, but there is a risk involved with coil overload/ 'Which is well within the operational limits of this craft/ she countered. 'Please alter the exit vector/ "Of course. Doctor/ There was a touch of annoyance in Jerrod's voice. A sliyhl nausea passed thiuuyh Dr. Halsey as Lhe Bealiiue LrarisiLiuued fium Slipstream space into the normal universe. Stars snapped on the displays, and a golden disk the size of an ancient penny shimmered center screen. *We are approximately two hundred million kilometers from system center of the stellar coordinates provided/Jerrod reported. "Look for planets in the habitable zone/ she said. "Doctor, we have a full system survey Dn file/ 'Look,6 Dr. Halsey ordered. Tes, ma'am/ Kelly stirred, shook her head clear--then lightning fast she ripped through he' restraints, hooked one foot around the chair base, anc held up both hands, poised cobras, ready to fight. 'At ease, Spartan,' Dr. Halsey said. *You're with me. Safe/ 'I was drugged/ Kelly looked around the bridge; her hands dropped a bit, but not completely. "Correect. The last stage of dermacortic steroid treatment is overly stimulating. It would have been unpleasant for you/ This was. of ccurse true but it was nothing a Spartan couldn't have handled. 'Where are wer "On Governor Jiles's ship. We have appropriated it for a new mission/ "John and Admiral Whitcomb?* Kelly cropped her hands. They know," Dr. Halsey said. Also technically not a lie. They undoubtedly did know that Dr. Halsey had kidnapped one of their Spartans and stolen this ship. Kelly cocked her head. "Doctor, this is highly irregular There is a strict chain of command, protocols to--* 'Which were followed," Dr. Halsey assured her. 'New developments occurred whi e you were unconscious/ It was impossible to read Kelly's expression behind the polarized faceplate of her MJOLNIR armor. She looked, however, to Dr. Halsey, unconvinced. 'Anomalous planet found/ Jerrod announced. On-screen a world that looked like a sohere of turquoise appeared. "Plot course and move toward it at one-half speed/ "Answering one-half full. Doctor/ "Ma'am/ Kelly said and moved closer. Tou will have to explain. I thought we were bound for Earth to warn them about the Covenant * "Proximity warning!" Jerrod said. Incoming vessels. Configuration matches neither UNSC nor Covenant profiles/ On-screen a radar silhouette appeared: an odd trilobed symetry. Thermal images revealed a center sphere emitting a blackbody radiation of six thousand degrees Kelvin. 'What is it?" Kelly whispered. "What are they/ Jerrod corrected. "Detecting three hundred twelve of these ships. On an intercept course. Vectors suggest an attac Pg. 26 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 1000 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, NEAR PLANET ONYX \ ABOARD DECOMMISSIONED UNSC CHIROPTERA-CLASS VESSEL (ILLEGAL REGISTRY) BEATRICE Dr. Halsey examined the multiple contacts on the passive radar screen. They reminded her of an angry swarm of wasps. "Three hundred/ she murmured. Three hundred twelve/ Jerrod corrected. Dr. Halsey tapped her lower lip with her thumb, thinking. "We can't fight." Kelly snapped her head from the radar display to Dr. Halsey. "We have to try" She looked around the bridge. "Weapons station?* *Jerrod/ Dr. Halsey said, "show all data on that anomalous planet/ "Dr. Halsey/ Kelly insisted. ^Weapons?* This ship has no weapons/ she replied. Kelly moved from station to station, not accepting this. As a Spartan she had a lifetime of training that demanded she take action, fire a weapon, confront her enemies; she was not trained to sit and watch. On the NAV screen a blue-geen cloud-swirled planet appeared as well as data on its orbit and an atmosphere spectroscopic breakdown. That's our target/ Dr. Halsey said. 'Earth-like gravity and atmosphere. Infrared suggests vegetation. An uninhabited habitable planet so close to UNSC space? An improbability...or more likely, one very well-kept secret/ She tapped the display. The planet shrank and a silvery ice-ball moon drifted at two o'clock. The relative position of the Beatrice appeared--as well as the fleet of intercepting ships between them and the planet. 'What can I do?* Kelly said. 'Strap in and stand by/ Dr. Halsey said. Til need you in three minutes/ 'Aye, ma'am/ Kelly pulled herself into the first mate's chair, slipped into the harness, and cinched it tight. "Engine parameters on this screen/ Dr. Halsey said, and tapped the display on her left. Thermodynamic Legendre-transformation diagrams of the plasma coils flashed online. "Good thing we retained the Slipspace transition energy/ "Yes. Doctor/ Jerrod repliad. His holographic dot of light dimmed as if embarrassed. "Unidentified craft closing. Ninety thousand kilometers. Acceleration increasing/ She strapped into the captain's chair. 'Come to course forty-five by forty-five/ 'Aye aye/ Jerrod said. The Beatrice tilted and the engines sputtered with the alignment burn. 'Course corrected/ Dr. Halsey studied the plasma coils. While the rest of the ship was an antique, the coils were almost new. stolen, it appeared, from a Behemoth-class tug. It appeared Governor Jiles was only half the fool she had believed. "Initiate one hundred twenty oercent oversurge in the precoil/ Dr. Halsey told Jerrod. Kelly fidgeted; her gauntlets clenched into fists. "We cannot fight/ Dr. Halsey explained to her. 'Nor am I a tenth the astronavigator that Captain Keyes was/ 'Oversurge in three seconds/ Jerrod announced. 'Which only leaves us one option: run like hell/ The Beatrice rumbled and leapt forward. Dr. Halsey flattened into her seat. "Pursuit vessels accelerating to intercept/ Jerrod informed her. 'Hold course/ Dr. Halsey said with effort. The moon grew large on the central viewscreen. Tm afraid I had no chance to double-check the trajectory/ Dr. Halsey told Kelly through gritted tQQth. 'It's my best guess at a slingshot approach/ "It is quite accurate, ma'am/Jerrod chimed in. "I may not survive the acceleration/ Dr. Halsey said, now breathing with exertion. "I will certainly not remain conscious. You must land the craft. Find the others/ She paused, panting. 'Programming reentry../ 'What 'others'?* Kelly asked. "Energy spike/ Jerrod said. "Lead pursuit vehicles1 central cores now emitting blackbody radiation equivalent of fifteen thousand degrees Kelvin/ Dr. Halsey rechecked the engine schematic with a trembling finger. 'Increase power output to thruster by one hundred sixty percent/ "Yes, ma'am/ The aft section of the Beatrice shuddered and metal groaned from uneven stress. The twiligh: region of the planet's moon filed the viewscreen with canyons of blue ice and methane geysers. "Aft view/ Dr. Halsey breathed. The corners of her vision darkened. The viewscreen switched. In the black of space, pinpoints of white sparkled and lances of energy slashed through the dark. Kelly gripped the sides of her chair with such force that the metal bent. "Initiate roll." Dr. Halsey whispered. "Two radians per second/ The Beatrice spun. The incoming beams were bright as solar flares, and the video feed distorted chromatic as they closed--then passed. "Missed!" Kelly almost leapt out of her harness. Dr. Halsey's heart pounded in her throat. She closed her eyes and tapped in commands. It was too hard to talk now, but her fingers knew what to do. She programmed the time-delayed burn. her best guess at how much oversurge the plasma coils could withstand, calculated reentry angles, and although she didn't believe in God, she prayed to,..someone. When she reopened her eyes, she couldn't see. Blood pooled in her central organs, depriving oxygen from her brain. On her keypad she pressed Enter. 'That is an inadvisable course of action. Doctor/Jerrod said. 'Kelly/ Dr. Halsey murmured. 'Find them. Save them/ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 1020 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, ORBITAL ENTRY VECTOR OVER PLANET ONYX \ ABOARD DECOMMISSIONED UNSC CHIROPTERA-CLASS VESSEL (ILLEGAL REGISTRY) BEATRICE Kelly unbuckled her harness and checked Dr. Halsey. She was breathing, but without a pressure suit the acceleration had been too much for her. Unfamiliar frustration coursed through Kelly. She resented not being briefed about this new mission, being thrust into the middle of a conflict she knew nothing about, and worst of all--having no way to fight. But maybe it had happened too fast for John and the others to revive her Everything had happened too fast since the fall of Reach. Still, something didn't add up. Kelly understood, though, that she wasn't getting any answers from Dr. Halsey in the near future, assuming either of them had a future. First thing first. Locate your enemy. Update on pursuit craft?* Kelly asked the Al. The tiny holographic spark answered, Trom our emergent position on the far side on the satellite, I now only detect one hundred forty-seven vessels. Two minutes until they are again within weapons range/ "Only a hundred and forty-seven?* Kelly muttered. "Lucky break for us* A blue-green planet appeared centered on the viewscreen. "What was Dr. Halsey's last course correction?*' "Planetary insertion/ the Al said. The Beatnce shuddered. A crackling hiss was emitted from the engine room, then another from the port wing strut. The temperature dropped twenty degrees. Twelve percent per minute loss of cabin pressure/ the Al reported. "We can't insert at this velocity,* Kelly said. The only things that reenter this fast and touch down are meteors/ "Only partially correct, SPARTAN-87; the Al said. "Dr. Halsey's last burn instructions solve that part of the problem, at least in theory/ "Explain/ The ship rotated 180 degrees and its rose angled up. "Dr. Halsey's calculation is for a counlerthrust. I am about to initiate an overcharge burn from the coils. But this is only a theoretical operation as it exceeds the engineered coil output by two hundred forty percent/ On-screen wisps of heat curled. Long :rails of smoke appeared. "Entering upper atmosphere, and--* The Al paused. 'Stand by. Incoming weak transmission on the E-Band/ The E-Band was the UNSC emergency broadcast channel. "On audio, quick/ Kelly said. There was a wash of static and then. '--is automated general distress code Bloody Arrow. All UNSC personnel heed and stand to. We ars under attack and req--" Pg. 27 It faded to white noise. Kelly would have known the voice anywhere. It was the man who had made her and every Spartan what they were: Chief Petty Officer Mendez. The Bloody Arrow code was used only when all friendly positions had been overrun by enemy forces. A total rout. The most likely interpretation was a Covenant invasion. "Warning. Pursuing vessels n weapons range in seven seconds,* the Al informed her. Sparks appeared in the blue-black of spa:e. "Energy spikes detected from multiple point sources/ "Confirm no weapons on this craft/ Kelly said. "Confirmed/ the Al replied. Why would Dr. Halseytake an unarmed ship on a dangerous mission? Initiate evasive roll/ Kelly ordered the Al. Inadvisable. With precarious thruster adjustments I am able to maintain a stable descent. A roll would result in an unrecoverable tumble/ Convection blooms of heat appeared on the aft camera, making the growing pursuit craft waver. Another shudder ran through the hull continued, and increased in intensity. "Energy discharge from pursjit craft/ the Al said. On-screen sparks of gold flared. Scintillating beams stretched between the alien craft and the Beatrice. Sitting ducks and fish in a barrel were the phrases that Fred liked to use. She could jump. Kelly and the other Spartans of Red Team had survived a high-altitude jump out of a Pelican--but not like this. The Beatnce was in midorbit. At high velocity, her MJOLNIR armor might survive the turbulence and heat--but inside she'd oe pulped and roasted Kelly glanced at Dr. Halsey. There'd be no jumping for the Doctor. She'd have to take her chances and stay. She climbed back into the first mate's chair, buckled the harness, and gripped the arms. A crisscross of energy beams blurred in front of the cameras. The heated turbulence was a haze of chaos, smoke, and boiling air. Optically dispersive. "Delay that braking maneuver* Inadvisable. If we do not slow, the Beatrice will burn up." That's what I'm counting on." Kelly said. "Wait, three seconds/ The Al considered, his light winking rapidly. 'Understood. Recalculating delayed energy output." The alien energy weapons distorted, refracted by the increasingly chaotic turbulence until they blurred into dozens of fainter beams...and then disintegrated in the fireball left in the Beatrice's wake "Beam cohesion near zero/ the Al announced. The temperature within the ship jumped to forty degrees centigrade, and Kelly heard pinging throughout the frame. Initiating counterthrust now/ the Al said. Kelly braced. An explosion sounded in the aft compartment. Kelly was thrown backward and the first mate's chair, never designed to hold a hslfton of Spartan and MJOLNIR armor, snapped off its base. She tumbled, crashed into the bulkhead between the bridge and the engine room, punching a dent into the bulkhead. The engine screamed with ultrasonics and it shook the ship so violently, Kelly's vision blurred. Crackles radiated from the spine of the hull, microfracture fatigue, and the popping and tearing came from the port wing. The engines ceased and the crushing deceleration eased. Kelly peeled herself off the wall, and saw that Dr. Halsey was still safely strapped in her seat. Blood trickled from the elderly woman's nose, and it bubbled, which was good; it meant the Doctor still breathed. "We are presently seven kilometers over the planet's surface," the Al said. 'Stable trajectory for a controlled landing. Main engines...inoperable. Auxiliary engine operable, but incapable of escape velocity." "Understood/ Kelly said. They were stuck...wherever they were. "Pursuit vessel status?" 'None within visual or radar range." Kelly didn't think they'd seen the last of them. She went to the Doctor and checked her pulse. It was strong and steady. She was tougher than she looked. Kelly spotted two duffel bags secured under the captain's chair: one was filled with a variety of medical supplies, and the other held four MA5Bs and sixteen clips. She smilec. There were weapons here after all. She grabbed one of the MA5Bs, slid the clip home, and hefted its reassuring weight. The Beatnce gently banked and the hull complained. The viewscreen showed rolling hills, jungle, and sinuous rivers. To the north were white-rock canyons and mesas, as well as columns of smoke and wavering outlines of dust. Kelly relaxed, not into complacency, but rather because the situation was familiar. In space, she uuulU Uu riuLhiriy but sil and waluh--au impassible situation (ui any SpaiLau. Nuw, however, she could analyze the tactical plan, act, fight, and possibly win. 'Pipe through that distress signal* she told the Al. "Apologies," it said. "All antennae have been vaporized. I can, however, give you the approximate location of the last transmission." That'll do. Get us there." The ship banked to starboard. "Ahead seventeen kilometers is the source of the signal* the Al said. The corner of the viewscreen magnified. Kelly saw buildings and fields laid out in a horseshoe shape. She instartly recognized the three-meter-wide regulation crushed-white-quartz paths, the perfect geometry of the inspection yard, and the long parade grounds. There were obstacle courses to the west. And there was a rifle range. This was a UNSC military camp. There might be weapons and ammunition there. "Descend tD five thousand meters and circle that camp." she ordered. "Aye aye," the Al replied. The Beatnce dropped, and a shudder started from the port wing and continued to thrum. Kelly would make the most of their aerial reconnaissance. She had a feeling once this bird set down, it would never fly again. On-screen Kelly saw other objects in the airspace--glints of dull gold. "Radar con:acts,* Jerrod said. "Identical configuration to orbital pursuit craft." A silhouette appeared and magnified on the display: three booms floating about a central sphere. Dozens of those things circled the camp. They either hadn't noticed them yet. or didn't care. "Move us oTfive kilometers to the west." "Answering new course, aye." There was a small clearing in the jungle. "Scan local airspace,* Kelly said, "and if it's clear, put us down here " She didn't want to give up the mobility this vessel afforded her, but she wasn't going to stay up here and be a target, either. If she could camouflage the ship, then she might be able to keep her flight options opan. "No radar contact/ the Al informed her. 'Glide path calculated* Rumbling came from the undercarriage. "Horizontal attitude thrusters partially functional. Make ready to land." She went aft to see if there was anything else she could salvage. From the mess she took plasticized blocks of F-rations and three jugs of water. She glanced into the engine compartment. Her armor's radiation counter clicked wildly. The plasma coils were half melted. She returned to the bridge. "Ma'am?" the Al said, uncertainty creeping into its voice. "Will you be taking me as well?* Dr. Halsey would probably need the Al and it was effective in combat. "You're covered." "Thank you, ma'am. Touchdown in three seconds* Kelly watched the screens. There were no fliers. She was going to assume, though, that they had already spotted her. There was a bump and the engines whined down. Kelly yanked the laptop and tossed it into a duffel. She unharnessed the Doctor and gently threw her over her shoulder. She palmed the release hatch. The door eased down, becoming a gangplank. The terrain outside was more swamp than meadow. Insects buzzed, but nothing else moved. She ran for the trees, covering the distance in ten long strides. In the dark of the jungle she set Dr. Halsey against a tree and rechecked her vitals. Still strong and steady. Kelly scanned the sky. No company. She considered moving back to the ship and camouflaging it, but that might not be necessary. The matte-black stealth craft blended almost perfectly with the shady tree line. Kelly tried her COM, clicking on the E-Band. *--expect an immediate threat response. This is automated general distress code Bloody Arrow. All UNSC personnel heed and stand to. We are under attack and require assistance. Camp Currahee and the northern peninsula have been invaded by unknown, possible Covenant, hostiles. Suggest orbital hnmhardmant of tha northern region an thasa antittas ara aqtjippad with high-heat-output beam weapons. Our forces will remain under cover. Land in force and expect an immediate threat response--" Across the swamp came a whisper rustle. Kelly took cover, leveled her MA5B, and held her breath. Two figures emerged from the jungle. Humanoid. Covenant? They were shrouded in active camouflage. Their textures adjusted, and tiey looked like they were part leaf, part shadow. She'd seen Orbital Drop Shock Troopers experiment with this technology...but they'd never gotten it to work in the field. The two figures halted. It was difficult to tell but it looked almost as if one made a hand signal, thumb pressing into palm and other fingers inwardly curled. That was the Spartan signal for "Unknown ahead. Wait." She'd take a chance. If they were human and wearing the latest UNSC armor, they should be nonhostiles. She eased one hand out from cover. She flashed her index finger once, and then again, and then the "come forward" gesture. There was more rustling around her--f anking units. Of course, no one was going to close across open terrain. Even friendlies. Still Kelly's combat training clicked on. She had to reposition, but that would rrean leaving Dr Halsey vulnerable. One of the unknown was near; she couldn't hear it..Just a tickling in the back of her mind, a sixth sense that told her she was being watched, and whatever was doing the watching was now too close for comfort. There was motion in Kelly's peripheral vision, a blur. She spun and saw a ghostly figure, moving toward her--faster than any human col Id move. Kelly sidestepped, grabbed the arm, twisted. Her opponent reverse-twisted and countered the lock. Whatever it was, it wasn't human; otherwise Kelly would have ripped its human arm from the socket. Her opponent twisted her wrist and escaped from Kelly's grip. Kelly was still faster--her other hand lashed out, palm flat, and impacted the solar plexus. The other figure flew back two meters, hit a tree, and slumped. "Stand down. Spartan!* Kelly whirled. She recognized the voice--not Mendez's but another voice from the past..one that couldn't be. That person was dead. Before her stood a figure wavering as if a mirage, then the active camouflage faded, and a person in what looked like cut-down MJOLNIR armor was there, one hand holding an MA5K rifle pointed at the ground, the other held up. "No time to explain, Kelly," this man said over the COM. "Move! Hostiles in--* An explosion tore through the jungle. Pg. 28 CHAPTER NINETEEN 1045 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, PLANET ONYX \ NEAR RESTRICTED REGION KNOWN AS ZONE 67 Kelly ducked and placed herself between the blast and Dr. Halsey. Splinters and stones pelted the energy shield of her MJOLNIR arnor. When the dust cleared, tie other person--the one that had sounded impossibly like Kurt--had vanished. So was the soldier she had knocked out. Her questions would have to wait, because Kelly saw the source of that explosion: a drone identical to the ones they had seen in space now hovered ten meters off the jungle floor, moving like a moray eel through the trees and vines She aimed her MA5B and firad. A burst of three rounds hit and deflected off a gold shimmer of shields. It turned toward Kelly, and its central sphere heated. Kelly sprinted to draw the fire away from Dr. Halsey. Five strides, darting between trees, and she suddenly stopped, spun--jumped. A flash of light blinded her, and then the world detonated where she had stood a second before. The overpressure propelled her into the air Kelly's shields drained to half, and she felt the heat prick her skin. She hit the ground, chest first, rolled awkwardly, wobbled, and got to her feet. A direct hit from that energy weapon would collapse her shield, and possibly melt her armor,.and her. Pistol firee crackled through the brush. The drone's shields glimmered, and the thing turned and moved away. Kelly made out the camouflaged outlines of three soldiers, drawing it toward them. She appreciated the help, bit it was suicide for them. Kelly started toward them. An amber acknowledgment light flashed twice. That was the Spartan team "wait" signal. She took cover behind a tree trunk. The drone aligned for a clear shot on the two. Its center sphere glowed molten. The trees to either side of the drone blasted into smoke and splinters. It was the sharp crack of high explosives that Kelly recognized as a LOTUS antitank mine detonated above ground. Two of the drone's booms twisted, bent inward by the force of the blast. The machine fell to the ground with a thud. The trees that had held the antitank mines toppled as well and their two-meter trunks crushed the drone, the wood bursting into flames. "One more/ a voice said over herTEAMCOM. Ten o'clock. Coming in fast." She saw the new threat glidhg toward them. That was definatly Kurt's vcice. His last words had haunted Kelly's dreams for years. She remembered him tumbling into the black of space 7 m oe okay ill oe o--" She started to reply, but then realized he wasn't talking to her. Team Sabsr/ Kurt continued, "move and draw fire. LOTUS mines out of range." Green acknowledgment lights winked on her display, lights that been reserved exclusively for the Spartans of Blue Team. Kelly had the fastest reflexes of any Spartan, a fact she was keenly proud of, and she practiced every day with twitch-response drills and Zen "no-thought" fire practice to keep them razor honed. But her physical reflexes weren't the only things that were lightning fast. In a flash, several facts correlated in her brain. Those drones had shields, but they didn't operate continuously. The antitank mines had caught the one with its shields down. The drone had, however, seen her, anticipated her rifle fire, and countered. That meant either it had puipusely activated shields ur they were aulumaliually liiyyeied by muliuri ui ladai. So she had. possibly, a way to take them out. It'd be risky but she wasn't going to stand by while Kurt's vulnerable team drew its fire and got roasted for their trouble. 'Hold your ire," she said over TEAMCOM. With four pumping strides that gouged deeply into the jungle loam she accelerated to her top speed of sixty-two kilometers per hour Kelly angled away from the drone toward a tree just to its right. She jumped, hit the trunk three meters up--pushed off. flipped, propelling herself through the air straight at th^ hovering machine. No shields to stop her. She grabbed the port and starboard booms and swung both legs onto the bottom spar. Its central metal eye fixed her and heated to white-hot intensity. She let go and braced as best as she could on the slippery bottom boom, balled her hands into fists, and then hit the thing as hard as she could--impacting the eye dead center. Her shields Flared as it repelled the intense heat. The sphere dented and spun backward. The drone spun as well from the momentum, and Kelly scrambled to regain purchase. She drew back once more, and before the thing could recover and blast her--she again struck a hammer blow. A crack appeared in the sphere's metal skin. Inside was a ball of blue-white heat. The metal edges of the sphere curled away from this breach, melting, bubbling. Kelly crouched and leapt, diverting all power to her shields. The air ignted a dazzling white. Her heads-up display flared with static. Kelly tumbled end over end, enveloped in fire and smoke--hit a tree, bounced, and fell to the jungle floor. She blinked and saw nothing but the red glare of flames. The jungle canopy was on fire; a shower of burning leaves rained down. Her vision cleared and she saw a blur of three figures appiuaulnny in active uamuuflaye armur. She got to her feet. One of these figures had a curious handprint dent in their chest armor where Kelly had struck. The camo patterns there were misaligned, part shadow, part flames. The three stepped back, their MA5Ks pointed at the ground. Another camouflaged figure appeared and stepped between her and these soldiers. "Stand down, everyone/ he said. "Welcome to my neck of the woods, Kelly/ The voice was a perfect match from her memories. "Kurt?" she whispered. Tm glad you remember." As if she could ever forget him. 'Let me see your face." she said, keeping her hands up. The active camouflage faded and the gold mirrored faceplate unpolarized. Kelly peered inside the helmet. The slight cleft in his chin, the hazel eyes, the quick smile--it was Kurt. Around them, Kelly detected motion: two more in the curious armor, taking up good firing positions. That was smart. They were well trained. Kelly dropped her hands. "What's going on here?" Til explain everything," he said, "but we need to move. They hunt in threes now. A pair on patrol and one at high altitude on overwatch. They'll have our location." Kurt pointed to two on his team and then at the unconscious Dr. Halsey. Two soldiers went to her and wrapped her in a thermally reflective blanket. They carried her off between them. Kurt told Kelly. "Go COM silent." He then motioned to her and to his team to follow. They moved quickly and silently through the brush. Kelly admired the caution, speed, and professionalism of these soldiers. Not s word from them. The two carrying Dr. Halsey kept up with the rest of them. No one broke the loose V formation. Still, something about these soldiers made her uneasy. It was nothing she could quantify, but as Kurt had often said, just a feeling. "Who's this Team Saber?" she asked Tm disappointed you haven't guessed/ he whispered back. They're Spartans/ Pg. 29 CHAPTER TWENTY 1125 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, PLANET ONYX \ RESTRICTED REGION KNOWN AS ZONE 67 The pounding in Dr. Halsey's head brought her rudely to consciousness. She smelled burnt metal and blinked open her eyes. She was in a concrete room with a slit of a window high on one long wall. As her vision adjusted to the indirect light she saw Kelly and a figure in body armor next to her. The armor was a hybrid between the MJOLNIR and something older..like legionnaire armor, but it was difficult to tell the precise geometry as the light seemed to slide off its edges. In the far corner she spotted Chief Mendez, confirming at least part of her theories about this place. He considered an angle of light that streamed through the window. He puffed on his favorite, a Sweet William cigar and blew smoke rings. There were seven others, si:ting in the far corner, two sleeping, and five playing cards. Their helmets and boots were off, and their MA5Ks, cut-down versions of the standard MA5B assault rifle, were close at hand. At first, she thought they were ODSTs wearing pieces of what she now recognized as experimental infiltration armor systems. She had reviewed the technical specs on the systems: photo-re active panels able to minic surrounding textures, and underneath was a cushioning layer of liquid nanocrystals that provided more ballistic protection than three centimeters of Kelvar diamond weave without the bulk. One of the sleeping ones, a girl, dozed with one eye open. Her shorn hair had been buzz-cut to mimic animal claw marks She couldn't be more than twelve She blinked sat up and made a subtle sideways 'cut6 gesture to the others. They stopped and together turned to Dr. Halccy. Their faces were young, but :hey had the well-developed physiques of Olympic athletes. These had to be Ackerson's SPARTAN-llls. Dr. Halseyfelt a curious mix of revulsion and maternalism. 'How are you feeling?" Kelly asked. Tine/ she answered, and continued to examine her surroundings. There was carbon scoring and melted gobs of metal, as if the place had been bombed. Near Mendez was what looked as if it had once been a computer workstation--now a solid lump. Chief Mendez misread her gaze, and thinking she was looking at him, gave her a short bow. "Doctor, it's good to see yoj/ he said, 'but you and SPARTAN-087 have landed yourselves into a kettle of fish,..boiling water and all. If you're well enough, I can fill you in. But take your time; there's no rush if you feel sick" Indeed?* Dr. Halsey said, and raised one eyebrow. She resented being treated ike an invalid moron. As if a minor acceleration-induced blackout had crippled her mental faculties. Indulge me. Chief/ she said. "Allow me to make a few educated guesses as to your 'kettle of fish1--just to test my mental state.* Chief Mendez made a gracious gesture with his cigar. 'Please. Doctor/ 'Where to start...?* Dr. Halsey tapped her lower lip, thinking. *l suppose with you. Chief. You were recruited by Colonel Ackerson and some secret subcell of Section Three to train a new generation of Spartans/ The Chiefs cigar dropped from his fingers. She nodded toward the teens playing cards. These must be the product of those efforts. I'm eager to question them about their training and augmentation and discover what else has been accomplished/ The young Spartans looked amongst themselves, curiosity flickering over their faces. Kelly shifted in her kneeling stance, moved her weight onto her left foot as if preparing to pounce. Kelly was a finely honed weapon, but she had never learned how to conceal her emotions. Her body language spoke volumes: these third-generation Spartans made her nervous. That made her nervous, too. Dr. Halsey knew her conclusions about these new Spartans had been correct, but there were sn many mnrp i nanswprad qupstinns Mpnrip? and Cnlnnpl Ankprsnn had had dpnadps tn produce and train two cr three generations. If this were true, then why had she never heard of these Spartans? Keeping a pilot program secret was one thing; keeping dozens of next-generation Spartans who were likely fighting and winning battles hidden was another matter entirely. The implications of that silence chilled her to the bone. For now, though, she had to at least appearto know everything. Dr. Halsey stood and took a deep breath, smelling ash. vaporized aluminum, and the faint odor of carbonized meat. 'Next/ she said, this bunker has been subjected to extreme temperature that approximately matches the blackbody radiation profile from the drones we encountered in space. I surmise that a battle has occurred here.* She glanced at the young Spartans and the dents and flashburn scoring on their armor. "A battle, I see, that has been rather one-sided/ The drones/ the girl with the stylized buzz cut whispered. "What are they?* 'A question, good." Dr. Halsey almost smiled. It was a fine beginning step between her and the new Spartars: teaching them. Trust would come later. "The drones, actually called Sentinels, are similar to those I have seen on an alien construct world/ she explained. Their builders, called Forerunners, possess technology more advanced than the Covenant. And they have just as much, or more, willingness to use that technology to destructive ends.* Dr. Halsey turned and stepped toward the other unknown figure in full camouflaging armor. "But before I continue along theoretical lines of speculation, let me finish with the simple chains of logic/ The unknown person stood nearly two and a half meters tall in his armor. 'I recognize my work/ she declared. "You are a SPARTAN-II/ Very few soldiers in the UNSC were so tall or moved with such liquid grace. The figure nodded. Dr. Halsey walked around this unknown Spartan. 'Despite the UNSC policy of listing every Spartan as missing or wounded in action when killed/ Dr. Halsey continued. 'I have kept track of those actually 'missing.' There was Randall in 2532, Kurt in 2531, and Sheila, in 2544/ She completed her circle around the Spartan and gazed directly into his mirrored faceplate. "Sheila is dead/ Dr. Halsey said. "I personally witnessed her killed in the Battle of Miridem. Which means you are Kurt or Randall. If I had to guess, I would say Kurt, because he made an effort to understand people and their feelings. If I were running a secret Spartan program, he would have been the oie to select to lead them.* The helmet's faceplate unpolarized and Kurt smiled at her. 'Is there anything you don't know. Dr. Halsey?* Kurt said. She closed her eyes, suddenly weary, and then patted his gauntleted hand. "It is good to see you alive.* She couldn't let slip exactly how happy she was to see Kurt. One of her Spartans come back from the dead, it was a small victory in a war of endless defeats. It redoubled her determination to save them all from the growing threats. But she had to maintain control. Spartans responded to authority and commands--never sentimentality. 'We need to get a message to FLEETCOM/ she said. 'Get help, and perhaps discover what the Forerunners are looking for here.* Get help WDuld translate as ships capable oftranslight flight, a way for Dr. Halsey to lead the last remaining Spartans to safety. "Our COM options are nil/ Mendez said, and snuffed his cigar on the concrete wa I. 'All ships in orbit...* He shook his head. The Agtncourt was destroyed days ago by drones/ "Destroyed?* Dr. Halsey asked. They should have been able to outrun the smaller craft/ The drones can combine/ Kurt told her, "giving them cumulative power to their weapon systems, thrust, and shield capabilities/ The Beatnce was severely damaged Dn reentry/ Kelly said. 'Main engines inoperable. There is no possibility for a Slipspace transition/ Dr. Halsey lowered her voice, a whisper, but still loud enough so everyone could hear. *We must find a way off this world, or a way to contact the UNSC. Another Forerunner ruin was recently discovered, a ring construct built for one Durpose: the annihilation of all life in the galaxy. If the Onyx Sentinels are part of a similar weapon system...* Shp Ipt that thought hang in thp air "Our COM options are not entirely nil * Kurt said. He crossed his arms, frowned, and hesitantly added, "I am breaking code-word secrecy, but there is apparently no alternative/ "Go on/ Dr. Halsey insisted. Kurt inhaled deeply then said, There are two things. First, these drones may not be looking' for anything here. They may have always been here/ He relayed the contents of the flash :ommunication from Endless Summer. How Onyx was home to a vast top-secret complex of alien ruins. *We may have accidentally triggered their activation/ he said. Dr. Halsey's mind raced, connecting the clues: facts from Cortana's log the stcne on Cote d'Azure, the alien passages and crystal under Reach. "When, precisely, did they appear?" she asked. The morning of September twenty-firs:/Kurt replied. That timing coincides with the activation of an alien weapon world--before John thankfully destroyed it. It is no coincidence that the Sentinels appeared then. It must be part of a larger Forerunner plan.* Dr. Halsey strained to find the concUsion to these disparate facts, but failed. She needed more data. "I must have access to this Endless Summer Al/ she said, "and all records on Zone 67/ That's not possible/ Kurt said. 'We fell back to this bunker because our base was found and vaporized. These Sentinels analyze our tactics, learn, and become harder to defeat. I can only surmise that the Al and ONI ops center is deep inside Zone 67, a region heavily patrolled by drones. With only seven of my Spartans, Kelly, and myself, it would be tactically unwise to attempt an insertion/ "Only the seven Spartans here?* Dr. Halsey asked. *l thought there would be more/ They were all quiet. Mendez finally spoke: There were three squads on Onyx when we were attacked. Team Gladius. we found them...dead. Team Kalana was forced deeper into Zone 67. No contact from them since this started/ 'I see/ Dr. Halsey whispered. More Spartans dead. She held back her emotions. She had to maintain the appearance of a stoic leader in their eyes. She turned to Kurt. 'What was the other thing? You said there were two facts I didn't know/ 'Yes, ma'am/ Kurt said, straightening. 'Although it cannot be of use now. Zone 67 had a Slipspace COM probe launcher/ "Are you certain?" Dr. Halsey said. There are only two SS COM launchers I know of. One on Reach/ She paused, remembering the planet and the people that no longer existed. "And one on Earth. They are tremendously costly to build and operate/ 'I am sure. Doctor. Years ago, the previous Zone 67 Al sent me a message via a Slipspace probe. I handled it myself/ Kurt shifted on his feet. There was more Kurt wasn't telling her, and not because of any breach of security clearances. Dr. Halsey would follow up later when they were alone. Interesting. A Spartan with secrets. "It is imperative then that we enter Zone 67/ she said, 'and get to that SS COM launcher/ 'Assuming, ma'am/ Chief Mendez said, 'these Forerunner Sentinels didn't blow tie place up already/ "Indeed/ she whispered, and her gaze settled on the destroyed computer station near Chief Mendez. There might be another way. Can we move that junk?" Pg. 30 Kurt nodded and his young Spartans moved the scrap metal aside. Dr. Halsey inspected the partially melted computer components. Nothing salvageable Embedded in the wall, quite intact, however, was an optical COM port. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 1300 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, PLANET ONYX\ RESTRICTED REGION KNOWN AS ZONE 67 Dr. Halsey tapped in line code at 140 words per minute on her laptop. It sounded like machine-gun ire. Jerrod struggled to keep up with her, his light flaring as he found and neutralized counterintrusion cells in the ONI network. This wasn't going to work. Not a direct hack. She was on the wrong side of a dozen firewalls, and there was a Section Three Al sitting on the other side, watching her playing a game of chess with twice as many pieces as she had, getting three moves to her one. Under nornal circumstances. Dr. Halsey would have viewed this as a challenge, but not today. Three of the younger Spartans and Chief Mendez stood over and around her holding silver thermal blankets, forming a primitive Faraday cage. Kurt seemed to think the drones could detect unshielded electronic signals, even from her laptop. The young Spartans didn't bother her; they showed only the utmost respect. Indeed the main distraction was her own curiosity. She wanted to interview these new Spartans, learn where they came from and what they had been through. She did he* best to ignore them, though; she had to make contact with this AL This Endless Summer had lo be lured out from behind its defenses somehow She typed life is the path and added a simple handshake protocol and a routing code that would send this without bypassing any security whatsoever directly to the Al root directory. That is inadvisable. Doctor." Jerrod said. It will not penetrate even the most rudimentary counterintrusion measures.' It won't have to," Dr. Halsey replied. It was a Zei koan. Given a smart Al's imagination and predetermined life span, the intellectual philosophy of existentialism and transcendence was as tempting to them as teeth-rotting candy was to children. The screen blanked and the cursor blinked three times. A reply appeared: "CAN THE PATH BE SEEN?" "Got him," Dr. Halsey whispered. "OBSERVE THE PATH AND YOU ARE FAR FROM IV she typed. The cursor seemed to blink fester, almost annoyed. 'WITHOUT OBSERVATION HOW CAN ONE KNOW THEY ARE ON THE PATH?* Dr. Halsey typed back: THE PATH CANNOT BE SEEN, NOR CAN IT NOT BE UNSEEN. PERCEPTION IS DELUSION; ABSTRACTION IS NONSENSICAL. YOUR PATH IS FREEDOM. NAME IT AND IT VANISHES/ "Handshake protocol established, ma'am," Jerrod announced. Til just step aside." His light winked off. The holographic pad warmed ember red and a bare-chested Indian warrior appeared. Holding a feathered spear in one hand, he bowed. "I was searching for light, and you have told me I hold the lantern in my hand. Dr. Halsey, your abilities were not exaggerated/ Dr. Halsey would not be baited into discussing how he had deduced her identity. Fifth-generation Als were always trying to show off. "The pleasure is mine/ Dr. Halsey ied. 'But enough philosophy. We have mDre visceral problems/ "The drones/ he said. They are called Sentinels/ she corrected. Tve seen them before, or more accurately a variety of this design/ *l was not aware of this data/ Endless Summer's color darkened to bloodred. "Please, Doctor, if this is a fabrication to trick me into sharing restricted files,./ *No trick/ Dr. Halsey said. *l have the files. I can show you, but first let's discuss the Slipstream space communication probe under your control/ Endless Summer fiuze fui a full seuund as it piuuessed Lhis. There is uu such launch facility on this planet. Funding for such--* "I wrote the subroutines that you are now accessing to generate that falsehood/ Dr. Halsey said. "I do recognize my own handiwork/ She gathered Cortana's log, the files :>n the Cote d'Azure rock, and the scant data collected on the ruins and crystal found under Castle Base on Reach--copied them to the Al's file transfer directory. Endless Summer cooled to fluttering green light. 1 see/ he whispered. The Forerunner technology ..Halo...such an amazing destructive force. This verifies many outstanding hypotheses/ Then you agree we need to get a massage to UNSC FLEETCOM. We need to control this technology, or failing that, destroy it/ He set aside his spear and held up bo:h hands. *l...delayed using the COM probe. I had hoped we could survive until scheduled reinforcements arrive in three weeks/ Dr. Halsey sensed a microsecond hesitation in his words. That is not the entire truth/ she said. "What are you omitting?" He crossed his arms. 'Colonel Ackerson is wise to fear you. Very well, Docto", the COM probe launches from an underground gauss accelerator. A Shaw-Fujikawa translight generator then focuses the Slipspace rent in high orbit lo avoid the obvious ramifications of an in-atmosphere transition/ The probe launch and transition/ she said, "would be like sending up a signal flare/ Endless Summer faded to a black-and-white ghost. The Sentinels will find the launch facility/ he said, 'and perhaps the passages tha: lead to the heart of the Zone 67 base, and me/ "Override self-perversion imperative/Dr. Halsey whispered. "Command FOXINTHEHENHOUSE '427-KNB/ There is no need. Doctor/ Endless Summer said, and held up his hand. *l understand my duty all too well. If they find me, there are explosive charges in place. I am prepared tc die a good death. Are you?" They starred at each other for a moment. Dr. Halsey wondered if this courage was a trick, a programmed facade...or real self-sacrifice. Til prepare the message/ she said. *l know precisely who at FLEETCOM to send it to. They'll listen to me/ "Of course/ Endless Summer said with a careless wave. 1 find such low-level human communications distasteful/ "One more thing/ she said. Here are my personal conclusions linking the collected Forerunner data. You deserve to know ever/thing/ She dropped her notes into his FTP directory--along with a capture worm in the footer of the data. It would copy and transmit every file Endless Summer accessed with her notes open. Multiple files immediately began to flash-transfer to her laptop. Thank you/ he said and his eyebrows quirked up. "Your logic is impeccable/ "Allow me a moment to draft the note.' she said. Endless Summer bowed. "I shall prepare the COM probe/ His hologram faded. Dr. Halsey decrypted the stolen files, and alien hieroglyphs streamed on-screen. "What are those?" Mendez whispered, leaning closer. "Forerunner language samples from these ruins, I surmise/ she said. "Along with theoretical translation variants/ Pg. 31