1827 hours, September 22,2552 (Military Calendar) \ Aboard unidentified Covenant flagship, uncharted system, Halo debris field.
The flagship plunged through Threshold's churning atmo.sphere. Cortana could not holdthe ship's attitude. It wobbled and blasted a fiery scar through the clouds, slowly rollingto port on its central axis.
Without shields, the flagship's hull continued to heat to seven.teen hundred degreesCelsius. The nose glowed a dark red, which spread into an amber smear along themidsection and be.came a white-hot plume at the ship's tail. Conduits and featheryantenna arrays melted, separated, and left a trail of molten metal in an explosive wake.Shocks rippled along the frame as the overpressure shed off the bow in waves. Thefriction from the planet's dense atmosphere would shred the ship in a matter of seconds.
"Cortana," the Master Chief said. "I've gotten to the coupling. The Engineer appears toknow what it's doing. You should have power for the Slipspace generator in a moment.""It's too late," Cortana told him. "We are now too low to escape Threshold's gravitationalpull. Even at full power we can't break our degrading orbit. And we can't tunnel into Slip-space, either."The incoming Covenant fire had forced them deeper into the atmosphere. She had pushedtheir trajectory to the edge of what had been safe—it was that, or be engulfed in plasma.But she had saved them from one death ... only to delay that fate by a scant minute.
ERIC NYLUND 85She recomputed the numbers, thrust and velocity and gravita.tional attractions. Even ifshe overloaded the reactors to critical-meltdown levels, they were still stuck in an ever-descending spiral. The numbers didn't lie.
The Master Chief's Engineer must have repaired the power coupling, because theSlipspace generator was functional again— for all the good it did them.
To enter Slipspace a shi had to be well away from strong gravitational fields. Gravitydistorted the superfine pppattern of quantum filaments through which Cortana had tocompute a path. Covenant Slipspace technology was demonstrably superior, but shedoubted that the enemy had ever attempted a Slipspace entry this close to a planet.
Cortana toyed with the idea of trying anyway—pulse the Slip-space generators andmaybe she'd get a lucky quadrillion-to-one shot and locate the correct vector through thetangle of gravity-warped filaments. She rejected the possibility; at their current velocity,any attempt to maneuver the ship would send it into a chaotic tumble from which they'dnever recover.
"Try something," the Chief said to her with amazing calm. "Try anything."Cortana sighed. "Roger, Chief."She booted the Covenant Slipspace generators; the software streamed through herconsciousness.
The UNSC Shaw-Fujikawa Slipspace generators ripped a hole in normal space by bruteforce. But the Covenant tech.nology used a different approach. Sensors came online, andCor.tana could actually "see" the interlacing webs of quantum filaments surround theflagship.
"Amazing," she whispered.
The Covenant could pick a path through the subatomic di.mensions; a gentle push fromtheir generators enlarged the fields just enough to allow their ships to pass seamlesslyinto the alter.nate space with minimal energy. Their resolution of the reality of spacetimewas infinitely more powerful than human tech.nology. It was as if she had beenblind before, had never seen the universe around her. It was beautiful.
This explained how the Covenant could make jumps with86 HALO: FIRST STRIKEsuch accuracy. They could literally plot a course with an error no larger than an atom'sdiameter.
"Status, Cortana?" the Master Chief asked.
"Stand by," she said, annoyed at the distraction.
At this resolution Cortana could discern every ripple in space caused by Threshold'sgravity, the other planets in this solar sys.tem, the sun, and even the warping of spacecaused by the mass of this ship. Could she compensate for those distortions?
Pressure sensors detected hull breaches on seventeen outer decks. Cortana ignored them.She shut down all peripheral s s.tems and concentrated on the task at hand. It was theironly way out of this mess: Theyyy'd get out by going through.
She concentrated on interpolating the fluctuating space. She generated mathematicalalgorithms to anticipate and smooth the gravitational distortions.
Energy surged from the reactors into the Slipspace generator matrices. A path parteddirectly before them—a pinhole that be.came a gyrating wormhole, fluxing and spinning.
Threshold's atmosphere throbbed and jumped through the hole—sucked into thevacuum of the alternate dimension.
Cortana dedicated all her runtime to monitoring the space around the ship, and riskedmaking microscopic course correc.tions to maneuver them into the fluctuating path.S arks danced along the length of the hull as the nose of the flagship departed normalspppace.
She eased the rest of the ship through, surrounded by whirling storms and jagged spears of lightning.
She pinged her sensors: The hull temperature dropped rapidly and she registered a series of explosive decompressions on the breached decks.
Cortana emerged from her cocoon of concentration and im.mediately sensed theelectronic presence of the other near her, monitoring her Slipspace calculations. It was practically on top ofher.
"Heresy!" it hissed and then withdrew... and vanished.
Cortana pulsed a systems check along every circuit in the ship, hoping to track theCovenant AI. No luck.
"Sneaky little bastard," she broadcast throughout the system. "Come back here."ERIC NYLUND 87Had it seen what she had done? Had it understood what she'd just accomplished? And ifso, why declare it a "heresy"?
True, manipulating eighty-eight stochastic variables in eleven-dimensional space-time was not child's play... but it was possi.ble that the other AI would be able to follow her calculations.
Perhaps not. The Covenant were imitative, not innovative; at least, that's what all the ONIintelligence gathered on the col.lection of alien races had reported. She had thought thiswas exaggeration, propaganda to bolster human morale.
Now she wasn't so certain. Because if the Covenant had truly understood the extent oftheir own magnificent technology, they could have not only jumped into Slipspaceyrow a planet's atmosphere—but jumped into a planet's atmosphere, too.
They could have simply bypassed Reach's orbital defenses.
The Covenant AI had called this heresy? Ludicrous.
Maybe the humans could eventually outthink the Covenant, given enough access to theenemy's technologies. Cortana real.ized the humans actually had a chance to win thiswar. All they needed was time.
"Cortana? Status please," the Master Chief said.
"Stand by," Cortana reported.
The Chief felt decompressive explosions reverberate through the deck, thunder thatsuddenly silenced itself as the atmosphere vented.
He waited for an explosion to tear through the engine room, or for plasma to envelop him.He scanned the engine room for any signs of Grunts or Elites, and then exhaled, and stared into the face of death for the countless time.
He had always been a hairsbreadth from death. John wasn't a fatalist, merely a realist. Hedidn't welcome the end; he knew, though, that he had done his best, fought and won somany times for his team, the Navy, and the human race ... it made moments like thistolerable. They were, ironically, the most peaceful times in his life.
"Cortana, status please," he asked again.
There was a pause over the COM, then Cortana spoke. "We're safe. In Slipspace. Headingunknown." She sighed, and her voice sounded tinged with weariness. "We're long gone88 HALO: FIRST STRIKEfrom Halo, Threshold, and that Covenant fleet. If this tin can holds together a bit longer, Iwant to put some distance between us and them."The Chief replied, "Good work, Cortana. Very good." He moved toward the elevator. "Nowwe have a hard decision to make."He paused and turned back toward the Covenant Engineer. The creature moved awayfrom the repaired power coupling and drifted to a scarred, half-melted panel that hadbeen hit with stray plasma fire. It huffed, removed the cover, and delved into the tangle ofoptical cables.
The Chief left it alone. It wasn't a threat to him or his team. In fact, it and the others like itmight be key to repairing this ship, and their continued survival.
He continued to the elevator shaft, stepping over the bodies of the Grunts in the hallway.He nudged them with his foot to make certain they were dead, and then retrieved twoplasma pistols and one of the needle launchers.
He entered the elevator shaft, pushed off the deck, and floated upward in the null gravity.The Chief kept his eyes and ears sharp for any hint of a threat as he moved through thecorridors to the bridge. Everything was quiet and still.
At the open bridge door, he paused and watched as Warrant Officer Polaski supervised aCovenant Engineer while it re.moved the blasted door control panels. The Engineerturned a melted piece of olarizing crystal before its six eyes, and then picked up anunblemished crystalline pppanel off the floor and in.serted it into the wall.
Polaski wiped her hands on her greasy coveralls and waved him in.
Thin, blue smoke still filled the brid e, but the Chief noted that most of the display panelswere once again active. Nearby, Sergggeant Johnson tended Haverson's wounds andLocklear stood guard. The young Marine's eyes never left the Engineer, and his fingerhovered close to, though not quite on, his MA5B's trigger.
The Engineer floated back, spun on its long axis, and looked first at Polaski, then the Chief.
A burst of static issued from the bridge speakers, and the Covenant Engineer looked tothem and then to Polaski. It tapped the control, and the massive bridge doors slid shut.
ERIC NYLUND89The Engineer passed a tentacle over the controls. They flashed blue, then dimmed.
"It locks now," Polaski told them. "Ugly here knows his stuff."Three ultrasonic whistles filled the air. The Covenant Engi.neer who had just repairedthe bridge door snapped to attention, and its eyes peered intently forward. It chirped aresponse and then floated toward the Master Chief, trying to maneuver be.hind him.
"What's it doing?" the Master Chief asked, turning to face the creature.
The Engineer huffed in annoyance and tried again to move around him.
The Master Chief didn't let it. While John had seen no hostil.ity from the creatures, they were still part of the Covenant. Hav.ing one at his back grated against every instinct.
"I've told it to repair your armor's shields," Cortana said. "Let it."The Master Chief allowed the small alien to pass. He felt the access panel removed from the shield generator housing on his back. Normally it took a team of three technicians toremove the safety catches and get to the radioactive power source. The Chief shifteduneasily. He didn't like this one bit, but Cortana had al.ways known what she was doing.
Locklear watched this and ran a hand over his shaved head. He stood on the raised center platform and turned to the other Covenant Engineer as it repaired the burned-outdisplays on the port side of the room. He held his MA5B loosely, but it was still aimed inthe alien's general direction. "I don't care what Cortana says," he told the Chief, "I don'ttrust them."The Engineer near Locklear floated to the bridge's holographic controls and passed atentacle over a series of raised dots.
The screens snapped on and showed three Covenant cruisers closing fast.
Adrenaline spiked through the Master Chief's blood. "Cor.tana, quick—take evasiveaction.""Relax, Chief," Locklear said. He waved his hand over a holo.graphic control; the images on screen froze. "It's just a replay." He turned and examined the suspended plasma boltsjust as they90 HALO: FIRST STRIKEimpacted on the flagship's shields. "Man," he whispered. "I wish our boats had weapons like those.""We might soon have exactly that, Marine," Lieutenant Haver-son said. He winced and stood, then moved to a screen that showed the storms in the upper atmosphere ofThreshold. "Play this one, Corporal."Locklear tapped one of the controls.
A line of sparkling blue lights appeared on screen, and the nose of the flagship edged into view. The blue line ripped a hole in space, and the ship jumped forward. The clouds ofThreshold vanished; there was only blackness on the screen.
Haverson slicked back the strands of his red hair that had fallen into his face. "Cortana," he asked, "has anyone, human or Covenant, ever performed a Slipspace jump from withinan atmosphere?""No, Lieutenant. Normally such strong gravitational fields would distort and collapse theShaw-Fujikawa event horizon. With the Covenant's Slipspace matrices, however, I hadgreatly increased resolution. I was able to compensate.""Amazing," he whispered.
"Goddamned lucky," Polaski muttered. She tugged on the rim of her cap.
"It worked," the Master Chief told them. "For now, that's all that matters." He faced histeam, trying to ignore the motions of the Covenant Engineer attached to his back. "We have to plan our next move.""I'm sorry to disagree, Chief," Lieutenant Haverson said. "The mere fact that Cortana'smaneuver worked is the only thing that matters now."The Chief squared himself to the Lieutenant and said nothing.
Haverson held up his hands. "I acknowledge that you have tactical command, Chief. Iknow your authority has the backing of the brass and ONI Section Three. You'll get noargument from me on that point, but I put it to you that your original mission has justbeen superseded by the discovery of the technology on this ship. We should scrub your mission and head straight back to Earth.""What's this other mission?" Locklear asked, his voice suspicious.
ERIC NYLUND 91Haverson shrugged. "I see no reason to keep this information classified at this point. Tellhim, Chief."The Master Chief didn't like how Haverson "acceded" to his tactical command yet readilyordered him to reveal highly clas.sified material.
"Cortana," the Chief said. "Is the bridge secure from eaves.droppers?""A moment," Cortana said. Red lights pulsed around the room's perimeter. "It is now. Goahead, Chief.""My team and I—" the Master Chief started.
He hesitated—the thought of his fellow Spartans stopped him cold. For all he knew theywere all dead. He pushed that to the back of his mind, however, and continued.
"Our mission was to capture a Covenant ship, infiltrate Covenant-controlled space, andcapture one of their leaders. Command hoped they could use this to force the Covenantinto a cease-fire and negotiations."No one said a word.
Finally, Locklear snorted and rolled his eyes. "Typical Navy suicide mission.""No," the Master Chief replied. "It was a long shot, but we had a chance. We have a betterchance now that we have this ship.""Excuse me, Master Chief," Polaski said. She removed her cap and wrung it in her hands.
"You're not suggesting that you're going to continue that half-assed op, are you? Webarely sur.vived four days of hell. It was a miracle we got away from Reach, survived theCovenant on Halo... not to mention the Flood.""I have a duty to complete my mission," the Master Chief told her. "I'll do it with orwithout your help. There's more at stake than our individual discomfort—even our lives.""We're not Spartans," Haverson said. "We're not trained for your kind of mission."That was certainly true. They weren't Spartans. John's team would never give up. But ashe scanned their weary faces, he had to acknowledge that they weren't ready for thismission.
The Sergeant stepped forward and said, "You still want to go, I got your back, Chief."John nodded, but he saw the exhaustion even in the Sergeant's dark eyes. There werelimits to what any soldier, even a hard92 HALO: FIRST STRIKEcore Marine like Johnson, could endure. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, hisoriginal orders, given only a week ago, felt as if they'd been issued a lifetime in the past.Even John felt the temptation to stop and regroup before continuing.
"What's on this ship," Haverson said, "can save the human race. And wasn't that the goalof your mission? Let's return to Earth and let the Admiralty decide. No one wouldquestion your decision to clarify your orders given the circumstances—" He paused, then added, "and the loss of your entire team."Haverson's expression was carefully neutral, but the Chief still bristled at the further mention of his team—and at the at.tempt to manipulate him. He remembered his order sending Fred, Kelly, and the others to the surface of Reach, thinking that he, Linda, andJames were going on the "hard" mission.
"Listen to the El-Tee," Locklear said. "We deliver a little something for the R-and-Deggheads and maybe buy some shore leave. I vote for that plan." He saluted Haverson. "Hell yeah!""This isn't a democracy," the Master Chief said, his voice both calm and dangerous.
Locklear twitched but didn't back down. "Yeah, maybe it isn't," he said, "but last time Ichecked, I take my orders from the Corps— not from some swabbie. Sir."The Sergeant scowled at the ODST and moved to his side. "You better get it together,Marine," he barked, "or the Chief'11 reach down and pull you inside out by your cornhole.And that'll be a sweet, sweet mercy ... compared to what I'm gonna do to you."Locklear contemplated the Sergeant's words and the Master Chief's silence. He looked toPolaski and then to Haverson.
Polaski stared at the Marine with wide eyes, then turned away. Haverson gave him a slight shake of his head.
Locklear sighed, eased his stance, and dropped his gaze. "Man, I really, really hate thisshit.""I hate to interrupt," Cortana said, "but I find myself agreeing with the Lieutenant."The Chief clicked on a private COM channel. "Explain, Cor.tana. I thought our mission was what you were built for. Why are you backing out now?""I'm not 'backing out,' " she shot back. "Our orders wereERIC NYLUND 93given when the UNSC had a fleet, and when Reach was still an intact military presence. Allthat has changed."The Master Chief couldn't disagree with what she was say.ing ... but there was somethingelse in her voice. And for the first time, John thought that Cortana might be hidingsomething from him.
"We have intact ship-scale plasma weapons and new reactor technologies," Cortana continued. "Imagine if every ship could maneuver with pinpoint precision in Slipspace." She paused. "The UNSC could be just as effective in space as you are in ground engagements. We could actually win this war."The Master Chief frowned. He didn't like the Lieutenant's or Cortana's arguments— because they made sense. Aborting his mission was unthinkable. He had always finishedwhat he started, and he'd always won.
As a professional soldier, John was ready to give up anything for victory—his personalcomfort, his friends, his own life if that's what it took—but he'd never considered thathe'd have to sacrifice his dignity and pride as well for the greater good.
He sighed and nodded. "Very well, Lieutenant Haverson. We'll do it your way. I herebyrelinquish my tactical command.""Good," Haverson said. "Thank you." He faced the others and continued, "Sergeant? You,Polaski, and Locklear get back down to the Pelican and grab whatever gear wasn'tsmashed to bits. Look for a field medkit, too, and then get back up here, double time.""Yes, sir," Sergeant Johnson said. "We're on it." He and Po.laski headed for the door,tapped the control, and let the panels slide apart.
Polaski shot a stare at the Master Chief over her shoulder; then, shaking her head, shefollowed the Sergeant.
"Shit," Locklear said, checking his rifle as he loped after them. "Wait up! Man, I'm never going to get another hour's sleep.""Sleep when you're dead, Marine," the Sergeant said.
The bridge doors sealed.
Haverson said, "Plot a course back to Earth, Cortana, and then—""I'm sorry, Lieutenant Haverson," "Cortana said. I can't do that. A direct course to Earthwould be in violation of the Cole94 HALO: FIRST STRIKEProtocol. Furthermore, we are not allowed an indirect route, ei.ther. Subsection Seven ofthe Cole Protocol states that no Cove.nant craft may be taken to human-controlled space without an exhaustive search for tracking systems that could lead the enemy to our bases.""Subsection Seven?" Haverson said. "I haven't heard of it.""Very few have, sir," Cortana answered. "It was little more than a technicality. Before this,no one had actually ever cap.tured a Covenant vessel.""An exhaustive search of this vessel would be difficult under the circumstances," Haverson said and cupped his hand over his chin, thinking. "It must be more than three kilometers long.""I have a suggestion, sir," the Chief said. "An intermediate destination: Reach.""Reach?" Haverson quickly hid the shock on his face with a smile. "Chief, there's nothingin the Reach system except a Covenant armada.""No, sir," the Master Chief replied. "There are ... other possibilities."Haverson raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead, Chief. I'm intrigued.""The first possibility," John said, "is that the Covenant have glassed the planet and movedon. In which case there might be a derelict, but serviceable, UNSC craft that we couldrepair and take to Earth. We'd leave the Covenant flagship in low orbit and return withthe proper scientific staff and equipment to effect a salvage operation."Haverson nodded. "A long shot. Although the Euphrates did have a Prowler attached toher. They were supposed to launch a reconnaissance mission, before they got the signalto drop everything and help defend Reach. So maybe it's not such a long shot, after all.And the other possibility?""The Covenant are still there," the Master Chief said. "The likelihood that they wouldattack one of their own capital ships is low. In either event, there is no violation of theCole Protocol because the Covenant already know the location of Reach.""True," Haverson said. He paced to the center of the bridge. "Very well, Chief. Cortana, setcourse for Reach. We'll enter at the edge of the system and assess the situation. If it's too hot, we jump and find another route home."rERIC NYLUND95"Acknowledged, Lieutenant," Cortana replied. "Be advised that this ship traverses Slipspace much faster than our UNSC counterparts. ETA to Reach in thirteen hours."The Master Chief sighed and relaxed a little. There was an.other reason for choosingReach, one he didn't reveal to the Lieutenant. He knew the odds of anyone surviving on the sur.face were remote. Astronomical, in fact ... because once the Covenant decided toglass a planet, they did so with amazing thoroughness. But he had to see it. It was the onlyway he could accept that his teammates were dead.
A wash of static covered the Chief, first along his spine and then wrapping about his torso.There was an audible pop, and sparks crackled along the length of his MJOLNIR armor.
The Engineer released its grasp on him and cluttered with excitement.
Diagnostic routines scrolled upon the Chief's heads-up dis.play. In the upper right corner the shield recharge bar flickered red and slowly filled.
"They work," the Master Chief said. John was relieved to have his shields back. He wouldn't forget what it was like to fight without them, though. It had been a wake-up call:not to become dependent upon technology. It was also a reminder that most battles were won or lost in his head, before he engaged any enemy.
"Impressive little creatures," Haverson remarked. He scruti.nized the Covenant Engineer as it floated toward the wall of dis.plays and began tinkering with one. "I wonder how the Covenant caste system—""Sir!" Sergeant Johnson's voice blasted over the COM, break.ing with static. "You've got toget down to the Pelican ASAP. You and the Chief.""Are you under fire?" the Chief asked.
"Negative," he replied. "It's one of the cryotubes you recovered.""What about it, Sergeant?" Haverson snapped.
"Chief, there's a Spartan in it."