1825 hours, September 13,2552 (revised date, Military Calendar)\Aboard UNSC vesselGettysburg, near Covenant battle station Unyielding Hierophant.
The Master Chief and Blue Team stepped off the lift and onto the bridge of the Gettysburg.
"Sir—" John started to salute Admiral Whitcomb, but neither the Admiral nor LieutenantHaverson was there.
The only two on the bridge were Sergeant Johnson, who stared at the forwardviewscreens, and Cortana, whose holographic fig.ure burned bright blue and streamedwith code symbols and mathematics beyond John's comprehension.
Sergeant Johnson turned toward them. He looked the Spar.tans over and frowned, noting that not all of them had returned.
"I'm not sure what that thing is." The Sergeant nodded to view-screen one, centered on the Covenant command-and-control sta.tion. "Don't look like any 'uneven elephant' tome—more like two squid kissing. Whatever it is, damned glad it's going to blow up. Nice job—almost as good as if we sent in the Marines." One corner of his mouth quirked into a smile.
"Where's the Admiral?" the Master Chief asked. "And Lieu.tenant Haverson?"The Sergeant's half smile vanished, and his eyes darkened. He moved to Weapons Station One. "I'll show you. A Clarion spy drone is nearly in position."The center viewscreen fuzzed with static and then resolved to show the Ascendant Justice moving out of the shadow of the moon. The once formidable Covenant flagship was a wreck; itsERIC NYLUND329hull was breached in a dozen places, its skeletal frame exposed, and only a handful ofplasma conduits flickered with life.
"I don't understand," the Chief said. He stepped closer to Cortana's hologram. Being near the real Cortana—not one of her fragmented copies—reassured him that everything was un.der control. "What's going on?""Stand by, Chief," she replied. "I'm attempting to attune As.cendant Justice's Slipspace drive to the Gettysburg's mass and profile.""That's what we were up to while you were off sight-seeing," the Sergeant told him. "We pulled the Slipspace matrix out of our piggybacked ship and slapped it into theGettysburg."John wheeled and faced the viewscreens. Ascendant Justice couldn't jump? Then why was it headed straight toward the Covenant fleet? A decoy? He glanced at the countdown timer: 2:09 left.
"Not a decoy," he whispered,"... a lure. Sergeant, get a signal to Ascendant Justice. Bounce it off that spy drone if you have to.""Roger, Chief," Sergeant Johnson said and tapped in com.mands. An error warningblared. He shook his head, puzzled, and tried again, carefully retyping.
"Linda, take the NAV station. Fred, you're on Ops. Will, give the Sergeant a hand atWeapons One."Blue Team jumped to their assigned stations.
Will edged the Sergeant aside and quickly tapped three but.tons. "COM patchestablished," he reported. "On viewscreen two."The bridge of Ascendant Justice appeared on screen. Lieu.tenant Haverson and AdmiralWhitcomb stood on the central raised dais, adjusting the holographic controls. Behindthem, the wall displays showed Covenant ships closing on their position.
Admiral Whitcomb smiled. "Glad to see you made it safely aboard, son.""Sir, that fleet will destroy you before you can fire a single salvo.""I don't think so, Master Chief," he replied and tapped the holographic display. A slim bluecrystalline shard appeared— an exact copy of the alien artifact they found on Reach. "I'm330HALO: FIRST STRIKEsending this image to every ship in the system and letting them know it's theirs for thetaking ... if they dare to board this ship and face Earth's best warriors." He laughed. "Ithink that'll ap.peal to those Elites and their overinflated sense of honor."John nodded. "Yes, sir. It will."He looked at the countdown timer: 1:42.
The Covenant fleet turned and moved toward the incoming Ascendant Justice. A cloud ofcruisers and carriers. Hundreds of them. Impossible odds.
"Fire turret four, Lieutenant," the Admiral ordered.
"Firing!" Haverson replied, his face set in grim determination.
A lance of plasma discharged, arced, and impacted upon the nose of the nearest carrier.
The energy splashed over their shields and dissipated.
"Turret five, Lieutenant. Take them down.""Firing five, sir," Haverson said.
A second plasma bolt followed the first. It blasted the carrier's weakened shields andmelted armor and hull, exploding through the foredecks. The ship rolled and crashed intoa cruiser that had come too close.
"Nice shooting, Lieutenant," the Admiral murmured.
The Covenant fleet responded with a blinding volley of laser fire. Pinpoints of energy concentrated on Ascendant Justice's aft decks, boiled armor off in thick layers—shearedthrough to the other side, severing its engines.
The Admiral smiled. "A sound tactical response. Good thing they don't know we're justusing that slingshot around the moon and our inertia to do the rest of the job." He glancedat the dis.plays and the station growing larger on them. "Hang on, Lieu.tenant. Brace for impact."Ascendant Justice drifted closer to the station.
It crashed into the central ring, crushing the structure, and continued forward, dimplingthe hull of the pinched center sec.tion ... and finally ground to a halt with its nose impaledwithin the Unyielding Hierophant.
The center viewscreen on the bridge of the Gettysburg shat.tered into static and then slowly resolved. The wavering image of Admiral Whitcomb pulled himself upright. A gashfrom his temple to the corner of his mouth wept blood. Lieutenant Haver-ERIC NYLUND331son groggily got to his feet as well, his arm held at an odd angle, broken.
"Systemwide transmission," Admiral Whitcomb barked to Haverson.
"Aye, sir," Haverson said and clumsily adjusted the COM.
"Come on, mighty Covenant warriors," the Admiral shouted. "We're here in the middle ofyour fleet with your 'holy of holies.' " He flicked his ringer at the holographic shard, and itpinged as if actually struck. "Come and get it!" He laughed again.
Hundreds of Covenant ships moved toward them. Grapple lines and grav beams attachedto the broken hull of the Ascen.dant Justice. A thousand dropships and Elites in thrustpacks filled the space around the flagship.
The Master Chief watched the countdown timer: 0:27.
Along the ten-kilometer dorsal bulb of the space station, patches warmed to a dull red,the heat from the overloading reac.tors becoming outwardly visible.
"Move us back, Linda," John said. "Keep us in the moon's shadow. Use as much power as we can spare.""Aye, Chief," Linda replied. "Forward thrusters answering one third reverse power.Course one-eight-zero.""Cortana," he asked, "Slipspace generator status?""Almost ready, Chief," Cortana said. She bit her lower lip in concentration. "Capacitor charge at eighty percent. Adjusting fi.nal calculations. Stand by."On screen the Admiral wheeled toward the bulkhead sealing the flagship's bridge. Sparkscascaded along the seam as arc cut.ters on the other side penetrated. "Master Chief, Ihave final or.ders for you.""Sir," John said.
"You watch and see what's left of this rabble when we're done with 'em. Do not engage under any circumstances. You get the intel and hightail it back to Earth and make your report.""Understood, sir.""Now listen, son, remember when we talked about the Alamo? You know every one of thebrave defenders in those fights died. They knew the odds, but they hurt the enemy." He gritted his teeth in pain. "Both were tactical defeats, but in the end they were also brilliant strategic victories. They made the enemy332HALO: FIRST STRIKEafraid. Just a few good soldiers fighting for what's right made the difference.""Yes, sir."John remembered all those who had made a difference for him. Sam. James. CPO Mendez.Captain Keyes. The men and women who had fought and died on Halo. And now two more names to add to that list: Whitcomb and Haverson.
The bulkhead blasted off its mounts and clattered onto the deck of the Ascendant Justice'sbridge. Silhouetted in the pas.sage were dozens of Elites, their energy swords blurs ofmotion and light. Admiral Whitcomb fired a submachine gun.
The central viewscreen dissolved into static.
John watched for a moment, hoping the Admiral and the Lieu.tenant would reappear ...but screen number two remained offline.
Video feed from the Clarion spy drone filled the side screens. There were two hundredwarships clustered tightly about the figure-eight-shaped Unyielding Hiewphant. A similar number of ships circled in loose orbital trajectories. The formation reminded John of aminiature spiral galaxy... with a supernova core.
The dorsal bulb of the space station shot with color—red, or.ange, and blurred with blue-white heat in a heartbeat; plasma tendrils erupted from the surface like solar flares.Internal explo.sions chained down the station's length through the narrow cen.ter portion and into the ventral bulb, shattering that section and discharging bolts oflightning that arced along the station's frag.ments and to the nearby ships.
The Unyielding Hierophant became a roiling cloud of fiery plasma and smoke and staticcharges that enveloped the ships that had come to engage Ascendant Justice, ships thatflashed white hot and, in an instant, vaporized.
This thunderhead of superheated and pressurized gas bal.looned outward to engulf therest of the orbiting flotilla; heated their shields, which shimmered silver and popped likesoap bub.bles; melted their hulls and consumed them.
The blast cooled and the cloud dissipated—but ejected debris continued outward, leavingcomet trails, and impacted on stray ships not near the epicenter.
"Move the drone back into the moon's shadow," John ordered.
ERIC NYLUND333"Aye, Chief," Will said. "Thrusters responding."The side viewscreens showed a hailstorm of molten metal streaking toward the drone'scameras—then their view was obscured by the black-and silver-pockmarked surface ofthe tiny moon.
"Cortana, is the Gettysburg ready to jump?" the Chief asked.
"Slipspace capacitors charged, Master Chief. Ready when you are.""Stand by." John waited a minute. No one spoke. "Will, bring the drone back out.""Roger, Chief."The side viewscreen changed from moonscape to space. There was little left of the fleet orthe command-and-control station—only clouds of smoke, glittering metal, and ashes.
A few Covenant warships survived. Those that could slowly moved away from the blastsite ... others drifted dead in space. Perhaps a dozen of their original five hundred crafthad come through the explosion.
"A brilliant strategic victory," John whispered, the Admiral's last words echoing in hismind.
"Cortana, get us out of here."The Master Chief stood on the bridge of the Gettysburg and watched the stars blur and vanish into the absolute blackness of Slipspace.
They had jumped away from the battle zone over the Unyield.ing Hierophant, emerged innormal space, and plotted their po.sition. Cortana adjusted their course, and now they were finally on their way to Earth. Although they had overwhelming evidence that theCovenant knew the location of Earth, "overwhelming" was not absolute proof. The ColeProtocol still applied.
"Slipspace transition complete," Cortana said. "ETA to Earth in thirty-five hours, Chief." The tiny hologram of Cortana con.tinued to stare at him, and her slender brows knittogether.
"Was there something else, Cortana?" he asked.
The furrow in her brow deepened. She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was wondering about the copy of my in.filtration programming." Cortana's color cooled from blue to ultramarine. "I've reviewed your mission logs. Maybe it was the334HALO: FIRST STRIKEadditional copying that caused its breakdown, but that copy did have some of my core personality programming as well. I just hope it's not a sign of.. . some other instability."Cortana had been on edge. She had been so distracted at times she hadn't known thecorrect time. They had, however, all been pushed to the breaking point in the last few weeks. And despite any minor flaws, Cortana had always come through for him.
"We couldn't have survived without you," he finally told her. "Your programming is as good as ours."She tinged pink and then her hologram returned to a cool blue hue. "Are my auralsystems malfunctioning or was that a com.pliment, Chief?""Continue to monitor Slipspace for any anomalies," the Mas.ter Chief said, ignoring her.
He strode to the three forward viewscreens and stared into blackness. He wantedsolitude, to gaze at nothing, and complete the task that he dreaded.
John pulled his team roster onto his heads-up display. He ran down the list, designatingall those who had died on Reach, and af.terward, as Missing In Action. James, Li, Grace...and all his dead teammates who would never officially be "allowed" to die. And in hismind, they would never find any peace until this war was won.
He paused at Kelly's name.
John listed her as MIA, too. She was ironically the only Spar.tan truly missing, whiskedaway by Dr. Halsey on some secret pri.vate mission. John knew that whatever the doctor had planned, she would protect Kelly if she could. Still, he couldn't help but worry aboutthem both.
He added Corporal Locklear to his list and designated him Killed In Action. It was a more fitting end for a man who had been as much a warrior as any Spartan.
The last three names on his list he stared at for a long time: Warrant Officer ShielaPolaski, Lieutenant Elias Haverson, and Admiral Danforth Whitcomb. He reluctantly listedthem as KIA and referenced his mission report, which detailed their heroism.
Two men had stopped a Covenant armada. They had willingly died doing it, and they hadbought the human race a brief respite from destruction.
John felt glad. They were soldiers, sworn to protect humanityERIC NYLUND335from all threats, and they had fulfilled their duty as few ever could. And like his Spartans who were "missing in action," the Admiral and the Lieutenant would never die, either.Not because of a technicality in a mission status listing, but because in their deaths they would live on as inspirations.
John turned and watched as Linda, Will, and Fred occupied the bridge stations. Johnwould make sure that he and the last surviving Spartans did the same.
The elevator doors opened, and Sergeant Johnson stepped onto the bridge.
"Got all those Covenant Engineers rounded up on B-Deck," Sergeant Johnson announced."Slippery suckers."The Chief nodded.
"The boys at ONI and those squid heads have a lot in com.mon. Can't understand a thingthey say and they're just as good looking. Guess they're all going to have a long talk abouttechni.cal whatsits and scientific doodads when we get home."Sergeant Johnson crossed the bridge to the Master Chief. "There's one other thing.Another ONI thing." He held out a data crystal and his gaze fell to the deck. "Lieutenant Haverson gave this to me before he and the Admiral left. He said you'd have to deliver itfor him."John stared at the data crystal and reluctantly plucked it from the Sergeant's fingers as ifit were a slug of unstable radioactive material.
"Thank you, Sergeant." He hesitated and then added, "I'll take care of this."The Sergeant nodded and strode toward Weapons Station One.
John turned back to the blank monitors and retrieved the other data crystal from his beltcompartment. Yesterday he had be.lieved he had done the right thing by giving theLieutenant all of Dr. Halsey's Flood data— including the data on the Sergeant, which sheassured him would lead to his death.
But now?
Now, John knew the difference one man could make in this war. He understood Dr.Halsey's desire to save every person she could.
John held the two data crystals, one in each hand, and stared at them—trying to discern the future from their glimmering facets.
336HALO: FIRST STRIKEThat was the point, wasn't it? He couldn't know the future. He had to do what he could tosave every person. Today. Now.
So he decided.
He tightened his fist around the crystal with the complete mis.sion data and crushed it todust. John couldn't condemn Sergeant Johnson.
He hefted the remaining data crystal. There would have to be enough in it for ONI. He setthe crystal securely back into his belt.
Today they had won. They had stopped the Covenant. John would return to Earth with awarning and enough intel to keep scientists at ONI busy.
But what about tomorrow? The Covenant didn't give up once they set their sights on a target. They wanted Earth—they'd come for it. Destroying their fleet would only delay that in.evitable fact.
They had time, though. Maybe enough time to prepare for whatever the Covenant couldthrow at them.
John would take today's victory. And he'd be there when the fighting started again—he'dbe there to win.
SECTION VIIHARBINGEREPILOGUENinth Age of Reclamation, Step of Silence \ Covenant Holy City "High Charity," Sanctum ofthe Hierarchs.
A hundred thousand probes darted and scanned with winking electronic eyes across thevoid of tangled nonspaces enveloping the Covenant inner empire. They gathered data and emerged into the cold vacuum, where they were recovered by the hundreds ofsupercarriers and cruisers in station-keeping positions around the massive, bulbous planetoid that dominated the heavens.
Not a single rock larger than a centimeter could enter this space without being identified,targeted, and vaporized. Autho.rization codes were updated hourly, and if any incomingvessel hesitated for a millisecond with the proper response, it, too, met unyieldingdestruction.
The High Charity drifted beneath this impervious network, il.luminated by the glow from scores of warship engines.
Deep within, protected by legions of crack Covenant soldiers, the Sanctum of theHeirarchs was an island of calm. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the chamber were ornamented with mirrored shards made from the fused glass of countless worldsconquered by the Covenant Hegemony. They reflected the whispered thoughts of the one who sat in the center of this room—mirrored them back, so they might consider the glory of its domain, and learn from its wisdom... because there was no higher source ofintel.lect, will, and truth alive in the galaxy.
In the middle of the chamber, hovering a meter off the floor upon its imperial dais, sat theCovenant High Prophet of Truth. Its body was barely discernible, covered as it was with awide red cloak, and upon its head sat a glowing headpiece with sensorERIC NYLUND339and respiratory apparatus that extended like insect antennae. Only its snout and darkeyes protruded... as did tiny claws from the sleeve of its gold underrobes.
The left claw twitched—the signal for the chamber's doors to open.
The doors groaned and split apart, and a crack of light appeared.
A single fi ure appeared silhouetted in the illumination. It bowed so deeply that its chestbrushed agggainst the floor.
"Rise," the Prophet of Truth whispered. The word was ampli.fied by the chamber; itechoed and boomed forth as if a giant had spoken. "Come closer, Tartarus, and report."A ripple of shock passed through the Imperial Elite Protec.tors. They had never seensuch a creature allowed so close to the Holy Ones.
"Protectors," the Prophet commanded. "Leave us."Together the three hundred honor guards straightened, bowed, and filed out of the greatchamber. They said nothing, but the Prophet saw the confusion on their features. Good—such igno.rance and puzzlement had its uses.
The Brute, Tartarus, strode across the great room. When he stood within three meters ofthe Prophet, he fell to one knee.
The creature was a magnificent specimen of viciousness. The Prophet marveled at itsnear-unthinking otential for mayhem; the rippling muscle under its dull gray skin couldtear apart any opppponent—even a mighty Hunter. It was the perfect instrument.
"Tell me what you found," the Prophet said, its voice now truly a whisper.
Without looking up Tartarus reached for its belt and the at.tached orb.
The Prophet flicked its claw at the container. It floated free from Tartarus's grasp andhovered. The top unscrewed, and three glittering chips of sapphire-colored crystalshimmered, and threw light and shadow upon the chamber's mirrored surfaces.
The Prophet's dais bobbled in the suddenly uneven gravity— but it quickly compensated.
"This is all?" it asked.
"Eight squadrons combed the area surrounding the Eridanus Secundus asteroid fieldandTau Ceti," the Brute replied, bowinied, bowing340HALO: FIRST STRIKEits head even lower. "Many were lost in the void. This is all there was to find.""A pity."The orb's lid screwed itself back on, and then the container gently drifted into theProphet's grasp.
"It may yet be enough for our purposes... and one more relic from the Great Ones, asprecious as they are, will soon make no difference to us." The Prophet tucked thecontainer deep in the folds of its underrobe. "Make sure those pilots who survived arewell rewarded. Then execute them all. Quickly. Quietly.""I understand," Tartarus replied with a hint of anticipation thickening his voice.
The Prophet inhaled deeply, released a rasping sigh, and then asked, "And what of theUnyielding Hierophantl""The reports are unclear, Your Grace," Tartarus replied. "The renegade flagshipAscendant Justice was involved, and destroyed. We are unsure what triggered thestation's detonation. The recorded communications channels were flooded with systemerror reports prior to its destruction. The Engineers are saying this is imp—"The Prophet held up one claw, indicating silence. Tartarus halted midsyllable.
"A regrettable turn of events," the Prophet said, "but in the end, only an insignificantsetback. Have the ships that are battle-ready rendezvous with us at the site of thecataclysm.""And what of the incompetent, High One? The one who lost Ascendant Justice?""Bring him before the Council. Let his fate match the magni.tude of his failure."Tartarus's face twisted with what passed for a grin among his species.
"Soon the Great Journey shall begin," the Prophet of Truth continued, and its claws curledinto fists. "And let nothing in this universe impede our progress."
The End