TIME:DATE RECORD ANOMALY\Estimated 0610 hours, September 23,2552 (Military Calendar)\ Aboard captured Covenant dropship, Epsilon Eridani system, en route tosurface of Reach.
Polaski accelerated the captured dropship to its maximum velocity—just under Mach 1.The craft arced up and joined the long convoy of Covenant ships—troop transports,scavenger drones, and Seraph fighters—as they descended from a higher orbit down tothe surface. The formation of alien vessels headed straight toward Menachite Mountain.
Covenant communiques scrolled across a screen next to the pilot's seat and then ceased.
"Incoming transmissions from the convoy ... I guess they don't like strays," Polaskimuttered calmly, looking at the Cove.nant calligraphy.
"They're not shooting," the Admiral said, gripping the back of Polaski's seat. "We're fine.Just fly, Warrant Officer." He turned to the Master Chief. "Get 'em ready, son."The Chief nodded and moved aft to the rest of the squad. His three Spartans as well as Lieutenant Haverson, Locklear, and Sergeant Johnson stood over an array of weapons laidout on the deck. Anton ticked "off the inventory: Shotguns, a fuel rod gun, Jackhammer rocket launchers, plasma and HE pistols, and every type of grenade—take your pick."The Chief picked up five clips of ammunition for his MA5B assault rifle, three frag grenades, and a shotgun for close work. Nothing fancy—he wanted to keep it simple so hecould keep one eye on the rest of his team.
184HALO: FIRST STRIKELocklear hefted the fuel rod gun, grunting from the exertion. The weapon glowed an eeriegreen along its fuel casing.
Grace relieved him of the too-heavy weapon and shouldered it with ease.
"Make sure you get a handgun," the Chief told Locklear. "We'll be in close quarters underground.""Roger that," Locklear said.
"We're close," the Admiral called out.
The Master Chief moved up to the cockpit to watch. The line of dropships and drones maneuvered toward a pile of truck-sized stones that had been carved from the mountain.A spiraling hole, ten kilometers across, sat where Menachite Mountain had once risen majestic and impregnable, covered with forests and glaciers.
It was only a strip mine now, with a single shaft drilled down its center. A Covenantcruiser hovered over the shaft, and the purple glow of a grav lift knifed into the hole.
"That's our LZ," Whitcomb announced. "Polaski, I want you to drive this crate straightdown—but ease up a tad on the en.gines and let their grav beam do the work. It'll take us all the way down to whatever's at the bottom.""With respect, Admiral," Polaski said, "I'm not sure we'll fit."The Admiral squinted at the hole. "We'll fit," he said. "I have every confidence in you,Warrant Officer. Now make it quick. I don't think anyone topside is going to think us going down there is a good idea.""Yes, sir!" Her eyes locked onto the hole. "No problem, sir."The Master Chief marveled at the Admiral's lack of fear. He trusted the man's judgment;he had been criticized during his campaigns for unorthodox tactics and strategies, but hisinsight had been proven correct each time. The Master Chief, however, also had observedthat the higher up the chain of command you received your orders, the more likely those orders would de.mand the near impossible.
"Hang on," the Chief called back to his team.
Polaski nosed the Covenant dropship over and plummeted into the dark purplescintillating grav beam. The instant they entered the field, the ship jumped, accelerated,and shuddered into the hole drilled through solid rock.
ERIC NYLUND 185Cut off from the thin shreds of sunlight above, the ship went dark. The internal runninglights glowed a faint blue.
"We've got no room to maneuver in here," Polaski whispered.
Lieutenant Haverson climbed forward. "Admiral Whitcomb, sir, I see how we can get in—assuming this hole leads somewhere— but it's the other part of your plan that's unclear.What's our exit strategy, sir?"The Admiral's steely glare inned Haverson. "I've got it fig.ured out. You just shoot whenI tell you to and keep it all pppuck.ered up tight. Got it?"Haverson clenched his jaw, looking extremely unsatisfied. "Yes, sir."Polaski focused intently on the walls of the tunnel rushing toward her craft. "Short-rangesensors have a contact," she said. "It looks like the bottom of the shaft. ETA sixty secondsat this speed."The Admiral leaned closer to the Chief and whispered, "We're gonna get hit heavy bwhatever's down there. You make sure you hit them back three times harder. Then yyyouet Anton on point and see if he can't locate your Spartans. I'm guessing they've gone toggground."Before the Chief could reply, the Admiral moved aft and grabbed an assault rifle and twoHE pistols. He clipped plasma and frag grenades to his belt.
"Thirty seconds," Polaski called out. She cut the engines, and the dropship coasted on thegrav beam only. "There's something down there," she said. "Is that sunlight?"The dropship emerged into a titanic room—three kilometers across, circular, with adozen galleries circumscribing the space. Overhead, a holographic sun and a dozenmoons wheeled along its domed ceiling. Except for the hole drilled into the mountain bythe Covenant, the holographic projection was perfect.
The Admiral scrutinized the room, and his dark eyes locked onto a gathering of Covenantforces on the floor, near one edge of the great room. "There," he said, and pointed. "I makeout about a hundred of them: a few Elites, Jackals, mostly Grunts. Looks like they'reclearing a cave-in and not ready for company yet. Good.
"Polaski, land us half a kilome'ter from em and then dust off.
186HALO: FIRST STRIKEI want you back in that hole ASAP. Plug it up. We don't want to leave our back door wideopen.""Aye, sir," Polaski replied.
Admiral Whitcomb addressed Li. "You're our rear guard, son. Stay here and guard theship with Polaski. Sorry.""Sir! Yes, sir," Li replied. The Master Chief detected a hint of bitterness in the Spartan'svoice for drawing what he undoubt.edly would think was soft duty.
Their dro ship eased lower until it was a meter above the blue tiles of the room; the sidehatches opppened. The Chief jumped out first, followed by Anton, Lieutenant Haverson, andLocklear. From the hatch on the opposite side leapt the Admiral, Sergeant Johnson, andGrace.
The dropship immediately rose into the hole in the ceiling, far enough in to be shieldedfrom any stray ground fire.
"Move, everyone," the Admiral growled. He pointed at Grace and Locklear. "You two, firelong-range weapons. Everyone else, haul ass. Take them out, people."The Admiral's plan was sound. He wasn't risking the dropship—their only means ofescape—by landing too close to the enemy. They still had the element of surprise; theCovenant would have never anticipated an assault on the heart of their operation.
But how long would this advantage last? How long before that cruiser blasted theirdropship to atoms? The Covenant were not their most dangerous enemy. Time was.
Grace paused, muscled the fuel rod gun to a forty-five-degree angle into the air, andlaunched a round. The alien weapon hissed and spat a glowing sphere of energy. Theblast arced over the half-kilometer distance, impacted, and exploded in a green flash.Grunts and Jackals flew through the air.
Locklear fired two Jackhammer rockets, then dropped the spent launcher. The pair ofrockets connected with a cluster of Elites who had—until a second ago—been runningthe show. The twin explosion obscured that end of the room with billow.ing clouds ofdust, fire, and smoke.
The Master Chief motioned for his team to spread out and move forward at a jog.
ERIC NYLUND 187Ahead there were silhouetted Grunts and Jackals in the dust clouds, screaming and shooting at the air, each other, anything that moved.
"Keep moving," the Master Chief said. "Move while they don't know what's hit them."Anton paused and knelt next to a set of tracks dug into the tiled floor. "Kelly's been thisway," he reported over the COM.
The Master Chief clicked on Red Team's COM frequency. "Kelly? Fred? Joshua? Spartans,acknowledge this signal."Only static answered him.
A hundred meters from the stunned Covenant work crew, a stray plasma bolt fired from the hazy, rubble-strewn region deto.nated a few meters from the Master Chief. He sent aspray of au.tomatic fire across the area, hoping to force the enemy to keep their headsdown.
Grace halted and fired the fuel rod gun again. A second glow.ing burst of radioactive energy flashed overhead and detonated along the far wall.
In the intense light, the Master Chief saw that a dozen Jackals had braced themselves along the wall and overlapped their en.ergy shields to create a phalanx. Behind them five Elites readied plasma rifles.
"Down," he shouted, and dived to one side.
Grace hit the floor and rolled away. Plasma bolts sizzled over their heads, and the Master Chief's shields drained as a shot hit too close. The barrage turned several of the blue tiles around him into a crater of blackened glass.
"Grenades—up and over those shields, Spartans," Admiral Whitcomb bellowed.
The Master Chief and Anton primed plasma grenades and hurled them from their prone positions. They hit the far wall and dropped into the cluster of Elites and Jackals—behindtheir shields. There was a pair of blue flashes, and the enemy forma.tion blew apart.Jackals scattered and ran.
Grace fired the fuel rod gun, hit the broken phalanx forma.tion, and blew them literally tobits. She dropped the weapon. "Rad counter at max dosage," she called out. "This thing'stoo hot to use anymore.""Back away!" the Chief ordered. "Those things have a fail-safe!"HALO: FIRST STRIKEGrace sprang back, just in time. The fallen fuel rod gun sparked, sputtered, and then blew with the force of a frag grenade. Black.ened, twisted tile rained down on them.
Locklear jogged up and fired at the Grants fleeing the excava.tion. They weren't armed.Locklear mowed them down without remorse.
From a pile of shattered stone, a pair of battered Elites struggled to rise. Blood and bone exploded outward from their chests, and they spun around toward the source of thisforce—boulders pushed away from the blocked passage. Three Spartans emerged from their cover, assault rifles smoking from their recent discharge.
John knew instantly the three were Kelly, Fred, and Will.
He ran forward to meet them.
Fred lowered his weapon. "Anton ... Grace ... John?" he said disbelievingly.
The Master Chief opened a COM channel to his Spartans. "It's me. I wish I had time toexplain everything. I will—later. Let's get the hell out of here first."Kelly quickly reached out and swiped her two fingers across John's faceplate.
He wanted to return the smile, but at that moment Admiral Whitcomb, running full force,skidded to a stop next to the Spar.tans. He was followed in short order by Haverson, Locklear, and Johnson, who kept looking over his shoulder to scan the huge empty room around them.
"Is this everyone?" Admiral Whitcomb asked.
"No, sir," Fred replied. "There's one more." He turned and ex.tended his hand back into the partially collapsed tunnel. "Ma'am? It's safe to come out."For a heartbeat the Master Chief forgot that he was in the heart of an enemy's camp; heforgot about the war, that Reach had fallen, and everything else he had gone through inthe last few days. He had never thought he would see her again.
Dr. Halsey emerged from the partially caved-in tunnel. She brushed dust from the hem ofher skirt and lab coat with one slender hand.
"Admiral Whitcomb," she said, "a pleasure to see you again. My thanks for the rescue. Itwas far timelier than you couldERIC NYLUND 189imagine." She turned to the Master Chief. "Or is it you I have to thank for this daringThe Master Chief found he had no words to answer. He also bristled at her casual use of operation, John?"his given name... but he could for.give her that. She had always used his name—never hisrank or serial number.
He noticed the fist-sized crystal clutched in her hand. It had a thousand facets andemitted a brilliant blue light the color of sapphires and sunlight on water.
"Thank anyone you want, Catherine," Admiral Whitcomb said. "Throw us all a party ifthat'll make you happy... once we're out of here." He clicked open his COM. "Polaski, getdown—"Sergeant Johnson set his hand on the Admiral's arm and nod.ded toward the far wall.
"What is it, Sergeant?" The Admiral's voice died in his throat.
The Master Chief's motion tracker flickered on his heads-up display, but there was nosolid contact... nor did he see any.thing across the entire three-kilometer-wide cavern.Had it picked up a camouflaged Elite? No, the dust in the air would have certainly given itaway.
"No one move," the Admiral whispered.
John saw them, then. He saw them all.
He had missed them before because he had thought it was the haze in the air rippling, thedust, maybe the distance causing a miragelike image. He hadn't thought it possible for somany Covenant to be so still.
On each level of the twelve tiered galleries that circumscribed the gigantic room stoodCovenant soldiers. They crowded the balconies with Grunts, Jackals whose ener y shieldspopped on, snarling Elites, and several pairs of Hunters with fuel rod can.nons ggglowinggreen.
The whine of thousands of plasma weapons charging filled the air like a swarm of locusts.
No one moved. No one breathed except Locklear, who ex.haled a long and heartfeltexpletive.
John tried to count them all. There had to be thousands—on every level. A battalion atleast, maybe more. They wouldn't even have to aim. All they had to do was shoot and fillthe space with needle shards and boiling energy.
190HALO: FIRST STRIKEThey'd be vaporized before they could get halfway to the tun.nel at their backs.
A Hunter pair roared with rage; they leveled their fuel rod cannons at John and his team and, with steady aim, discharged their weapons.
A split second later the rest of the alien horde opened fire.