TIME:OATE ERROR \ Estimated 0530 hours, September 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)\Aboard captured Covenant dropship, Epsilon Eridani system, en route tosurface of Reach.
The Master Chief stood on the deck of the Covenant dropship. He stood because the crashseats had been designed for Elites and Jackals and none of the contours fit his human backbone. It didn't matter—he preferred to stand.
They drifted through the upper atmosphere of Reach, de.scending like a spider on a thousand-kilometer thread of silk. They passed close to a hundred other ships moving inorbital arcs—Seraph fighters, other dropships, scavenger craft with grappling tentacles that dragged sections of salvaged metal. Dominating the skies were a pair of threehundred-meter-long cruisers.
The cruisers accelerated toward them.
The Chief moved up to the cockpit where Polaski and Haver-son sat in the seats they hadremoved from the Pelican and welded in place.
"They're pinging us," Polaski whispered.
"Nice and easy, Warrant Officer," Lieutenant Haverson whis.pered. "Just use theprogrammed response Cortana gave us.""Aye aye, Lieutenant," Polaski replied and concentrated on the Covenant scripts thatscrolled across the display on her left. "Sending now." She tapped a holographic icon.
Sergeant Johnson and Corporal Locklear stood two meters behind the Chief, both of them nervous. Johnson chewed his stub of cigar and scowled at the incoming Covenant warships.
174HALO: FIRST STRIKELocklear's trigger finger twitched, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.
"Cortana has this stuff wired tight," Sergeant Johnson whis.pered. "No worries.""I got plenty of worries here," Locklear muttered. "Man, I'd rather be in a HEV pod on fire and out of control than up here. We're sitting ducks.""Quiet," Lieutenant Haverson hissed at Locklear. "Let the lady concentrate."Polaski kept one eye on the communications screen and one eye on the external displays as the twin cruisers grew larger, fill.ing the holographic space before her. Both her hands hovered over the flight yoke, not touching it, but twitching in anticipation.
Three Seraph fighters burned out of their orbits and took a closer pass.
"Is that an attack vector?" Lieutenant Haverson asked.
"I don't think so," Polaski saii"'d. But its hard to tell with those things."Locklear inhaled deeply, and the Chief noticed that he didn't exhale. He set his hand on the man's shoulder and pulled him aside. "Relax, Marine," he whispered. "That's an order,"Locklear exhaled and ran a hand over his smoothly shaven head. "Right ... right, Chief." With effort, the Marine forced himself to calm down.
A red light flashed on the control panel. "Collision warning," Polaski said with thepracticed nonchalance all Navy pilots had in the face of imminent death. She reached for the yoke.
"Hold your course," the Lieutenant ordered.
"Yes, sir," she said, and released the controls. "Fighters one hundred meters and closing.""Hold your course," Lieutenant Haverson repeated. "They're just taking a closer look," hewhispered to himself, "and there's nothing to see. Nothing to see at all."When the Seraph fighters were only ten meters away, they tumbled to either side of thedropship. Their engine pods flared blue and they looped overhead ... then moved to rejointhe cruisers.
The larger ships passed directly overhead and blotted out the sun. In the darkness, thecockpit lights automatically adjustedERIC NYLUND175and flooded the display panels with the purple-blue frequency the Covenant favored.
The Master Chief realized that he, too, had been holding his breath. Maybe he and Locklear were more alike than he had realized.
He took a closer look at the ODST: The wild, desperate look in his eyes and the flaming-comet tattoo covering his left deltoid seemed almost alien to the Master Chief. The man had survived the Covenant and the Flood on Halo, and he had been lucky and resourcefulenough to escape in one piece. True, his emotional responses were uncontained ... butgive him the same aug.mentations and a set of MJOLNIR armor and what was thedifference between the two of them? Experience? Training? Discipline?
Luck?
John had always felt the other men and women in the UNSC were different; he'd felt atease only with the other Spartans. But weren't they all fighting and dying for the same reason?
The ruddy light from Epsilon Eridani suddenly filled the cockpit as the two cruisers passed on.
Polaski sighed, slumped forward, and wiped the sweat from her brow.
Locklear reached into his shirt pocket, removed a clean and pressed red bandanna, andoffered it to Polaski.
She looked at it for a second, then glanced at the Corporal, then took it. "Thanks,Locklear." She folded it into a headband, flipped her blond hair from her face, and tied itaround her forehead.
"No problem, ma'am," Locklear replied. "Anytime.""Locking onto the signal source," Lieutenant Haverson said. "Course two-three-zero byone-one-zero.""Two-three-zero by one-one-zero, aye," Polaski said. She gently pushed forward andturned the yoke.
The dropship smoothly banked into a gentle dive. The surface of Reach disappeared from the screens as the dropship entered the thick clouds of smoke that wreathed the planet.
There was a quiet beep, and the display filters activated. A moment later, images resolvedon the display screens—hundreds of thousands of hectares of raging firestorms and blackened char where there had once stood forests and fields.
176HALO: FIRST STRIKEJohn tried not to think of this as Reach anymore—it was only one more world theCovenant had taken.
"That canyon," Lieutenant Haverson said and pointed at a fis.sure where the earth hadbeen eroded in a sinuous twisting scar. "Scanners are just picking up surface information.Let's get a closer look.""Understood." Polaski inverted the ship, executed a reversed roll, and dropped into thecanyon. When she righted the drop-ship, sculpted rock walls raced past them only thirtymeters to either side.
The Lieutenant reached for the backpack COM system they had removed from thePelican. He fine-tuned the frequency of the unusual signal they were homing in on; a six-tone message played, followed by a two- second pause, and then it repeated.
"Open a channel on that E-bandand", Lieutenant,the Master Chief said. "I'll need to send thecountersignal.""Channel open, Chief. Go ahead."The Master Chief linked his COM and encrypted the channel so only those people sendingthe signal would hear him. "Oly Oly Oxen Free," he spoke into his microphone. "All out inthe free. We're all free."The beeping over the backpack COM speaker suddenly stopped.
"Signal's gone." Lieutenant Haverson snapped his head around and stared at the MasterChief. "I'm not sure what you just told them, but whatever it was, they heard you.""Good," the Master Chief replied. "Set us down somewhere safe. They'll find us.""There's an overhang ahead," Polaski said. She moved the ship toward a deep shadowalong the starboard side where the cliff angled out from the canyon. "I'll put us downthere." She spun the ship, backed into the darkness, and set it down light as a feather.
"Open the side hatch," the Chief told Polaski. "I'll go out alone and make sure it's safe.""Alone?" Lieutenant Haverson asked. He rose from his seat. "Are you certain that's wise,Chief?""Yes, sir. This was my idea. If it's a trap, I want to be the one to set it off. You stay here andback me up."ERIC NYLUND 177Haverson drummed his long fingers across his chin, thinking. "Very well, Chief.""I got your six, Master Chief," Locklear said and unslung his assault rifle.
The Spartan nodded to Locklear and marched down the ramp. The Chief wanted them onboard the dropship for two reasons. First, if this was a trap and they were all caught outin the open, he wouldn't have time to save them and himself. Second, if the Covenantwere here, waiting, then Haverson and the others had to get away and get Cortana back toEarth. He could buy them the time to make it out alive.
At the bottom of the ramp, he hesitated as his motion tracker pinged off a single signal.
There—thirty meters ahead, just be.hind a large boulder: The friend-or-foe identificationsystem tagged the contact as neither Covenant nor UNSC.
The Chief drew his pistol, crouched, and crept forward.
A private COM channel snapped on: "Master Chief, relax. It's me."Another Spartan stepped out from the cover of the rock. His armor—while not as battered as John's—was covered with scuffs and burns; the left shoulder pauldron hadbeen dented.t from the cover of the rock. His armor—while not as battered as John's—was covered with scuffs and burns; the left shoulder pauldron hadbeen dented.
The Master Chief felt a surge of relief. His teammates, his family, hadn't all been killed. He recognized the Spartan from his voice and the subtle way he glanced right and left. It was SPARTAN-044, Anton. He was one of the unit's best scouts. The two stood there a moment and then Anton moved his hand, mak.ing a quick, short gesture with his index and forefinger over the faceplate of his helmet where his mouth would be. That was theirsignal for a smile—the closest any Spartan got to an emo.tional outburst.
John returned the gesture.
"Good to see you, too," John said. "How many are left?""Three, Master Chief, and one other make up our team. Apologies for the disabled FOFtag, but we're trying to confuse the Covenant forces in this area." He looked again to hisleft and right. "I'd rather not give a full report in the open." He motioned toward theshadows of the cliff face.
John flashed his acknowledgment light and the two Spartans178HALO: FIRST STRIKEjogged out of the center of the ravine, both keeping their eyes on the rim of the canyon overhead.
The Master Chief had plenty of questions for Anton, however. Like, why had his team splitfrom Red Team? Where was Red Team? And why hadn't the Covenant glassed every square cen.timeter of Reach yet?
"You okay, Chief?" Lieutenant Haverson's voice broke in from the COM.
"Affirmative, sir. Contact made with a Spartan. Stand by."Anton halted before a dark cavern entrance. It was difficult to see, even with image enhancement; there was only the faint out.line of a tunnel in the shadows of the cliff face.Just inside were reinforcing steel I-beams painted matte black, and beyond there were two-meter-wide boulders with chainguns bolted to their sides. Each gun was crewed by a Spartan—whom John recog.nized as Grace-093 and Li-008.
When they saw John they gave him the smile gesture, which he returned.
Grace followed the Master Chief and Anton into the cavern. Li remained to operate theguns.
The Master Chief blinked as his eyes adjusted to the harsh fluorescent lights thatilluminated the interior of the cavern. The walls had a grooved texture, as if they'd been dug out by machin.ery. Standing before a foldout card table in the center of the cavern was another man, in a Navy uniform.
The Master Chief stiffened and saluted. "Admiral, sir!"Vice Admiral Danforth Whitcomb, despite his Western Euro.pean name and Texas drawl,claimed to have descended from Russian Cossacks. He had the physique of a large bear, aclosely shaved and polished head, eyes so dark they could have been made of coal, and asalt-and-pepper mustache that drooped over his upper lip and dangled off the edge of hischin.
"Master Chief." The Admiral snapped off a crisp salute. "At ease, son. Damn good to see you." He strode to the Chief and shook his hand—a gesture very few non-Spartans caredto endure;—pressing bare flesh into a cold unyielding gauntlet that could pulverize theirbones. "Welcome to Camp Independence. Accommodations ain't four star... but we call ithome.""Thank you, sir."ERIC NYLUND 179John had never worked with the Admiral before, but his ac.complishments during thebattles for New Constantinople and the Siege of the Atlas Moons were well known. Every Spartan had studied Whitcomb's record.
John opened a COM channel to Lieutenant Haverson. "Move up, sir. All clear.""Roger," Haverson said. "On our way.""I'm happy to see you, Chief," Admiral Whitcomb said, "so don't take this the wrong way,but what the hell are you doing here? Keyes had orders to take you on a mission deep into Cove.nant territory.""Yes, sir. It's... a long story."The Admiral twisted the end of his mustache, glanced at his wristwatch, and smiled. "We got the time, son. Let's hear it."John sat on a rock and recounted to the Admiral what had hap.pened since he had leftReach: the recovery of the NAV database on Gamma Station, the Pillar ofAutumn's harrowing escape, the discovery of the Halo construct and its eccentric caretaker, 343Guilty Spark. He hesitated, then described his encounters with the Flood and subsequentdestruction of Halo, ending with his capture of the Covenant flagship.
During the story, Lieutenant Haverson and the others from the dropship arrived. They remained silent as the Master Chief told the tale.第 161 页 共 306 页http://www.en8848.com.cn/原版英语阅读网 The Admiral listened without speaking a word. As John fin.ished, the man gave a slow,low whistle and sat contemplating it all.
"That's one hell of a tale. And if it had come from anyone but you, I'd order a psych exam." He stood and paced. He stopped and frowned. "I believe it all... but something still doesn'tadd up." His face wrinkled as he thought. "Can't quite put my finger on it, though.""Sir," Lieutenant Haverson meekly said. "Pardon me for ask.ing, but how is it you are alive? Here?"The Admiral smiled. "Well, that's another long story, Lieu.tenant. Let me give you theshort-and-sweet version." He leaned against the cavern wall and crossed his arms over his chest.
"The second those Covenant bastards entered the system I knew Reach was history. The Covenant don't do anything halfway.
180HALO: FIRST STRIKEEveryone planetside was busy evacuating—which was the right thing to do—but I had tostay behind." Several emotions played across the Admiral's face: concern, amusement...and then his features settled into a firm stare as he looked into the past, recalling whathappened.
"We'd been working on a new bomb, called the Nova. It was a cluster of nukes, each witha lithium triteride casing. Now, these things, in theory, when they detonate, not only makea big bang like you expect a nuke to— but they also force their tritium cases together inone big superheated and pressurized center." He made a fist and slammed it into hisother palm for emphasis. "Boosts the yield a hundredfold." A grin spread across his face."Planet killers. We had planned to use these things in space bat.tles to level the playingfield."His grin faded and he stroked his mustache. "Well, things didn't quite turn out as planned,and we got caught flat-footed with those Novas on the ground. So I decided to repurpose them."Lieutenant Haverson's face wrinkled with confusion. He didn't dare interrupt, but theAdmiral saw his expression and said, "Think, son. All that ordnance around with plenty ofCove.nant to blow up."Haverson shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I still don't understand.""Intelligence officer, huh?" Whitcomb snorted and turned to the Master Chief. "Whatwould you have done?""Arm them, sir," the Master Chief replied. "Activate the fail.safe tampering detonatorsand start a countdown timer". Say, two weeks.
The Admiral nodded. "I gave it only ten days. There's no need to give them too much time to tinker."He set one of his heavy hands on Lieutenant Haverson's shoulder, and Haverson flinched."They are two possible out.comes to this plan, Lieutenant. Either the Covenant pack up the Novas and take them home for study—a possibility I pray to God happens. A bomblike that would crack their home world in half. Or the bombs stay here—and they'll stop the Covenant on Reach."ERIC NYLUND 181"I see, sir," Lieutenant Haverson replied in a whisper, then glanced at his watch. "This was how many days ago?""Got plenty of time left," the Admiral told him. "Around twenty hours."Lieutenant Haverson swallowed.
"There's just one snag in that plan, though." The Admiral re.moved his hand from Haverson and his gaze settled onto the dirt floor of the cavern. "I had a team of Marines— Charlie Company—that got wiped out before we could get to those No.vas." He sighed."Brave kids. A damned waste of good men. That's when I picked up Red Team on codedCOM. I 'convinced' them to lend me a few of your Spartans. We got to the Novas, armedthem, and we've been raising eight kinds of hell down here with hit-and-run exercises— just to keep everyone busy, you understand. Wouldn't want to get bored.""And the rest of Red Team, sir?" the Master Chief asked.
Whitcomb shook his head. "We got one last transmission from them before they said they were falling back." He walked to the table, unrolled an old paper topological map, andpointed at Menachite Mountain. "Here. Where ONI had their CASTLE base." He paused."But the Covenant are tearing that mountain apart, rock by rock. I want to believe they're still there ... but we've counted at least a dozen companies. Those Covenant have airsupport, close orbit patrols, and, on the ground, armor. The place is a fortress. Couldanyone survive?"The Master Chief scrutinized the lines on the map and had an answer for the Admiral."They're underground," he said. "The CASTLE facility. We did a lot of training there. The Covenant can fill up those tunnels with only so many search parties.""Then you think they all have a chance?""Yes, sir. More than a chance. I'd guarantee they're in there. That's where I'd be."The Admiral set his fingertip on the representation of Mena.chite Mountain, tapped ittwice, thinking, and then sud"denly looked up. You got into this canyon in a capturedCovenant ship, right? A dropship?""Yes, sir." John hadn't told him that. Despite his brusque man.ner, the Admiral knew hisbusiness.
"Then we'll go get them, son."I182HALO: FIRST STRIKE"Sir!" Lieutenant Haverson said. "With all due respect, sir, our first priority should be toget back to Earth. The intelligence we've gathered on the Halo construct, the technology aboard the flagship we've captured ... Cortana's Slipspace calculations alone could turn the tide of this war for us.""I know all that," the Admiral replied tersely. "And you're three hundred percent correct,Lieutenant. But"—he tapped the map again with his meaty forefinger—"I won't leave a single man or woman behind on this planet for the Covenant to tear apart for sport. No way. And that goes double for a Spartan. We're going in."