by Eric Nylund
was swarming with Covenant troops: a hundred Jackals and at least six Elites. They pointed toward the Pelican and slowly started to advance on their position. “Come and get it,” the Master Chief muttered. He pulled two grenades from his satchel and wedged them into the C-12 on the nose of the ship. He
pushed off and propelled himself back to his teammate.
She grabbed him and pulled him into the interior of the open pod. Bits of a dozen dead Jackals pasted
the inside. “You’ve got a new target,” he told her. “A pair of frag grenades. Sight on them and wait for my order to fire.”
She propped her rifle on the edge of the open pod and aimed.
Jackals crawled over the Pelican—one of the Elite warriors appeared as well, maneuvering in a harness, flying over the ship. The Elite gestured imperiously, directing the Jackals to search the ship. “Fire,” the Master Chief said. Linda fired once. The grenades detonated; the chain reaction set off the twenty kilograms of C-12. A subsonic fist slammed into the Master Chief and threw him to the far side of the landing pod. Even
twenty meters away, the sides of the craft warped and the top edges sheared away. He looked over the edge. There was a crater where the Pelican had been. If anything had survived that blast, it was now in orbit. “We have a way in,” the Master Chief remarked. Linda nodded. In the distance, where the station curved out of view, more Covenant pods landed—and the Master
Chief saw the silhouettes of hundreds of Jackals and Elite fighters crawling and jetting their way closer. “Let’s go, Blue-One.” They pulled themselves toward the hole. The detonation had blown through five decks, leaving a tunnel
of ragged-edged metal and sputtering gas hoses. The Master Chief called up the station’s blueprints on his display. “That one,” he said, and pointed two
decks down. “B level. That’s where bay nine and theCircumference should be, three hundred meters to port.” They climbed into the interior and into B deck’s corridor. The station’s emergency lights were on, filling
the passage with dull red illumination.
The Master Chief paused and signaled her to halt. He pulled out the Lotus antitank mine from his satchel and set it on the deck. He set the sensitivity to maximum and triggered its proximity detectors. Anything that tried to follow them would get a surprise.
The Master Chief and Linda gripped the handrails along the corridor and pulled themselves up the curved hall. Flashes of automatic-weapons fire flashed in the low light, just ahead of their position. “Blue-One,” the Master Chief said, “Ahead, ten meters—there’s a pressure door open.”
They quickly took positions on either side of the door. He sent his optical probe around the corner. The docking bay had a dozen ship berths on two levels. The Master Chief spotted a few battered Pelicans; a station service bot; and in berth eleven, a sleek private craft held in place by massive service clamps. Where the ship’s name should have been painted on the prow there was only a simple circle. That had to be the target.
Two berths aft, four Marines in vac suits were pinned down by plasma and needler fire. The Master Chief turned his optical probe and saw what was pinning them down: thirty Jackals were in the forward portion of the bay, slowly advancing, under cover of their energy shields.
The Marines tossed frag grenades. The Jackals scrambled for cover and turned their shields. Three silent explosions flashed in the vacuum. Not one of the Jackals fell. Another explosion rippled through the deck—behind them. It shook the Master Chief’s bones in his
armor. The Lotus mine had detonated. They didn’t have much time before the Covenant force outside caught up with them. The Master Chief readied his assault rifle. “Take those Jackals out, Blue-One. I’ll make a break for theCircumference .” Linda gripped the edge of the pressure door with her left hand, propped her rifle across it, and curled her
right hand around the trigger. “There are a lot of them,” she said. “This may take a few seconds.” A flicker of a contact appeared on the Master Chief’s motion tracker—then vanished. He turned and
brought his assault rifle to bear. Nothing. “Hang on, Blue-One. I’m going to check our six.” Linda’s acknowledgment light winked on. The Master Chief eased back down the passage ten meters. No sensor contact. There was just dim red
light and shadows . . . but one of the shadows moved. It only took an instant for the image to fully resister: a black film peeled away from the darkness. It was
a meter taller than John and wore blue armor similar to that on Covenant warships. Its helmet was elongated and it had rows of sharp teeth; it looked like it was smiling at him. The Elite warrior leveled a plasma pistol. At this range, there was no way the creature would miss—the plasma weapon would cut through John’s
slowly recharging shields almost immediately. And if John used his assault rifle, it wouldn’t cut though the alien’s energy shield. In a simple exchange of fire, the alien would win.
Unacceptable. He needed to change the odds. The Master Chief pushed off the wall and launched himself at the creature. He slammed into the Elite before it had a chance to fire.
They tumbled backward and crashed into the bulkhead. The Master Chief saw the alien’s shield flicker and fade— —he hammered on the edge of the alien’s gun.
The creature howled soundlessly in the vacuum and dropped the plasma weapon. The Elite kicked him in the midsection; his shield took the brunt of the attack, but the blow sent him spinning end over end. He slapped his hand against the ceiling and stalled his spin—then dove under the Elite’s follow-up attack.
The Master Chief tried to grab the alien—but their weakened shields slid and crackled over one another.
Too slippery. They bounced down the curved length of the passage. The Master Chief’s boot caught on a railing, twisted—a lance of pain shot up his leg—but he halted their combined momentum.
The Elite pushed away and caught a railing on the opposite side of the passage. Then it turned and sprang back toward the Master Chief.
John ignored the pain in his leg. He pushed himself at the alien. They collided—the Master Chief struck with both fists, but the force slid off the Elite’s shields. The Elite grabbed him and threw him. They both spun into the wall. The Master Chief was pinned—perfect: he had something to brace against in the zero gravity. He swung
his fist, used every muscle in his body, and connected with the alien’s midsection. Its shield shimmered and crackled but some of the momentum transferred. The alien doubled over and reeled backward— —and its hands found the plasma weapon that it had dropped.
The Elite recovered quickly and aimed at the Master Chief. The Master Chief jumped, grabbed its wrist. He locked his armor’s glove articulation—it became a vise clamp.
They wrestled for control. The gun pointed at the alien—then the Master Chief. The alien was as strong as the Master Chief. They spun and bounced off the floor, ceiling, and walls. They were too evenly matched. The Master Chief managed to force a stalemate: the pistol now pointed straight up between their bodies.
If it went off it would hit them both—one shot at point-blank range might collapse their shields. They’d
both fry. The Master Chief whipped his forearm and elbow over the creature’s wrist and slammed it in the head. For a split second it was stunned and its strength ebbed.
John turned the gun into its face—squeezed the firing mechanism. The plasma discharge exploded into
the creature. Fire sprayed across its shields; they shimmered, flickered, and dimmed. The energy splash washed over the Master Chief; his shields drained to a quarter. The internal suit temperature spiked to critical levels.
But the Elite’s shields were dead. He didn’t wait for the plasma gun to recharge. The Master Chief grabbed the creature with his left hand —his right fist struck an uppercut to the head, a hook to the throat and chest, three rapid-fire strikes with his forearm to its helmet—that cracked and hissed atmosphere.
The Master Chief pushed
away and fired the pistol again. The bolt of fire caught the Elite in the face.
It writhed and clawed at nothing. The Elite shuddered . . . suspended in midair; it twitched and finally stopped moving. The Master Chief shot it again to make sure it was dead. Motion sensors picked up multiple targets approaching down the corridor—forty meters and closing. The Master Chief turned and double-timed it back to Blue-One. Linda was where he left her, shooting her targets with absolute concentration and precision. “There are more on the way,” he told her. “Reinforcements have already arrived in the bay,” she reported. “Twenty, at least. They’re learning,
overlapping their shields—can’t get a good shot in.”
Static crackled over the Master Chief’s COM channel:“Master Chief, this is Captain Keyes. Did you get the NAV database?” The Captain sounded out of breath. “Negative, sir. We’re close.” “We’re bound in-system to retrieve you. ETA is five minutes. Destroy theCircumference’s database and
get out ASAP. If you cannot accomplish your mission . . . I’ll have to take out the station with thePillar of Autumn’s weapons. We are running out of time.” “Understood, sir.” The channel snapped off. Captain Keyes was wrong. They weren’t running out of time . . . time had already run out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
0616 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar) / UNSCPillar of Autumn , Epsilon Eridani System near Reach Station Gamma
The plan started to fall apart almost the instant thePillar of Autumn launched their Pelican dropships. “Bring us about to heading two seven zero,” Captain Keyes ordered Ensign Lovell. “Aye, Captain,” Lovell said. “Lieutenant Hall, track the dropships’ trajectories.” “Pelican One on target to dock with station Gamma,” Lieutenant Hall reported. “Pelican Two initiating
descent burn. They are five by five to land just outside FLEET HQ—” “Captain,” Cortana interrupted. “Spatial disruption behind us.” The view screen snapped to the aft. Black space bubbled with green points of light; the stars in the
distance faded and stretched—a Covenant frigate appeared from nowhere. “Lieutenant Dominique,” Captain Keyes barked, “notify FLEETCOM that we have unwanted visitors in the backyard. I respectfully suggest they reorient those orbital guns ASAP. Ensign Lovell, turn this ship
around and give me maximum power to the engines. Lieutenant Hikowa, prepare to fire the MAC gun and arm Archer missile pods B1 through B7.” The crew jumped to their tasks. ThePillar of Autumn spun about, her engines flared, and she slowly came to a halt. The ship started back
toward the new Covenant threat. “Sir,” Cortana said. “Spatial disruptions increasing exponentially.” Two more Covenant frigates appeared, flanking the first ship. As soon as they exited Slipstream space—a white-hot line streaked across the blackness. A Super MAC
gun had targeted them and fired. The Covenant ship only existed for a moment longer. Its shields flashed and the hull blasted into fragments.
“They’re powered down,” Captain Keyes said. “No lights, no plasma weapons charging, no lasers. What are they doing?” “Perhaps,” Cortana said, “their pinpoint jumps require all their energy reserves.” “A weakness?” Captain Keyes mused.
“Not for long,” Cortana replied. “Covenant energy levels climbing.” The two remaining Covenant ships powered up—lights snapped on, engines glowed, and motes of red light appeared and streamed along their lateral lines.
“Entering optimal firing range,” Lieutenant Hikowa announced. “Targeting solutions computer for both
ships, Captain.” “Target the port vessel with our MAC gun,” Lieutenant Hikowa. “Ready Archer missiles for the starboard target. Let’s hope we can draw their fire.”
Lieutenant Hikowa typed in the commands. “Ready, sir.” “Fire.” ThePillar of Autumn ’s MAC gun fired three times. Thunder roiled up from the ventral decks. Archer
missiles snaked through space toward the Covenant frigate on the starboard edge of the enemy formation.
The Covenant ships fired . . . but not at thePillar of Autumn . Plasma bolts launched toward the two closest orbital guns. ThePillar of Autumn ’s MAC rounds struck the Covenant ship once, twice. Their shields flared, glowed,
and dimmed. The third round struck clean and penetrated her hull aft—sent the ship spinning
counterclockwise. The orbital MAC guns fired again—a streak of silver and the port Covenant vessel shattered—a split second later the starboard ship exploded, too.
But their plasma torpedoes continued toward their targets, splashing across two of the orbital defense platforms. The guns melted and collapsed into boiling molten spheres in the microgravity. Thirteen guns left, Captain Keyes thought. Not exactly a lucky number.
“Lieutenant Dominique,” he said, “request FLEETCOM to send all arriving vessels in-system to take up defense positions near our guns. The Covenant is willing to sacrifice a ship for one of our orbital guns. Advise them the Covenant ships appear to be dead in space for a few seconds after they execute a pinpoint jump.”
“Got it, sir,” Lieutenant Dominique said. “Message away.”
“Lieutenant Hikowa,” Captain Keyes said. “Send the destruction codes to those wild missiles we launched.” “Aye, sir.” “Belay that,” Captain Keyes said. Something didn’t feel right. “Lieutenant Hall, scan the region for
anything unusual.” “Scanning, sir,” she said. “There are millions of hull fragments; radar is useless. Thermal is off the charts
—everything is hot out there.” She paused, leaned closer, and a hank of her blond hair fell into her face, but she didn’t brush it aside. “Reading motiontoward Gamma station, sir. Landing pods.” “Lieutenant Hikowa,” Keyes said. “Repurpose those Archer missiles. New targets—link with Lieutenant
Hall for coordinates.” “Yes, Captain,” they said in unison. “Diversion, distraction, and deceit,” Captain Keyes said. “The Covenant’s tactics are almost getting
predictable.” A hundred pinpoints of fire dotted the distant space as their missiles found Covenant targets. “Picking up activity just out of the effective range of our orbital guns,” Cortana said. “Show me,” Captain Keyes said. The titanic Covenant vessel Keyes had seen before was back. It fired its brilliant blue-white beam—a
lance across space—that struck the destroyerHerodotus , one hundred thousand kilometers distant. The beam cut clean through the ship, stem to stern, bisecting her.
“Christ,” Ensign Lovell whispered. A salvo of orbital gun rounds fired at this new target . . . but it was too far away. The ship moved out of the trajectory of the shells. They missed.
Another beam flashed from the Covenant vessel. Another ship—a carrier, theMusashi —was severed amidships as it moved to cover the orbital guns. The aft section of the ship continued to thrust forward, her engines still running hot.
“They’re going to sniper our ships,” Keyes said. “Leave us nothing to fortify Reach.” He took out his pipe and tapped it in the palm of his hand. “Ensign Lovell. Plot an intercept course. Engines to maximum. We’re going to take that ship out.”
“Sir?” Lovell sat straighter. “Yes, sir. Plotting course now.”
Cortana appeared on the holographic display. “I assume you have another brilliant navigational maneuver to evade this enemy, Captain.” “I thought I’d fly straight in, Cortana . . . and let you do the driving.” “Straight? Youare joking.” Logic symbols streamed up her body. “I never joke when it comes to navigation,” Captain Keyes said. “You will monitor the energy state of
that ship. The instant you detect a buildup in their reactors, a spike of particle emissions—anything—
you fire our emergency thrusters to throw off their aim.” Cortana nodded. “I’ll do my best,” she said. “Their weapondoes travel at light speed. There won’t be much time to—”
A bang resonated through their port side hull. Captain Keyes flew sideways. Blue-white light flashed on their port view screen.
“One shot missed,” Cortana
replied. Captain Keyes stood up and straightened his uniform. “Ready MAC gun, Lieutenant Hikowa. Arm Archer missile pods C1 through E7. Give me a firing solution for missile impact on our last MAC round.”
Lieutenant Hikowa arched an eyebrow. She had good reason to be dubious. They would be firing more than five hundred missiles at a single target. “Solution online, sir. Guns hot and ready.” “Distance, Lieutenant Hall?” “Closing in on extreme range for MAC guns, sir. In four . . . three. . . .” An explosion to starboard and thePillar of Autumn jumped. Keyes was braced this time.
“Fire, Lieutenant Hikowa. Send them back where they belong.” “Missiles away, sir. Waiting to coordinate MAC rounds.” Blue lightning washed out the view screen. Dull thumps sounded through thePillar of Autumn like a
string of firecrackers going off. The ship listed to port, and it started to roll. “We’re hit!” Lieutenant Hall said. “Decompression on Decks C, D, and E. Sections two through twenty-
seven. Venting atmosphere. Reactor’s damaged, sir.” She listened to her headset. “Can’t get a clear report of what’s going on belowdecks. We’re losing power.” “Seal those sections. Lieutenant Hikowa, do we have gun control?” “Affirmative.” “Then fire at will, Lieutenant.” ThePillar of Autumn shuddered as its MAC gun fired. Pings and groans diffused though her damaged
hull. A trio of white-hot projectiles appeared on the view screen, chasing the Archer missiles toward
their intended target. The first round struck the Covenant ship; its shields rippled. The second and third rounds struck, and more than five hundred missiles detonated along her length. Flame dotted the massive vessel, and her shields blazed solid silver. They faded and popped. A dozen missiles impacted her hull and exploded, scarring the bluish armor.
“Minimal damage to the target, sir,” Lieutenant Hall reported. “But we downed their shields,” Captain Keyes said. “We can hurt them. That’s all I needed to know. Lieutenant Hikowa, make ready to fire again. Identical targeting solution. Lieutenant Hall, launch our
remote-piloted Longsword interceptor and arm its Shiva nuclear warhead. Cortana, take control of the single ship.” Cortana tapped her foot. “Longsword away,” she said. “Where do you want me to park this thing?” “Intercept course for the Covenant ship,” he told her. “Sir,” Lieutenant Hikowa cried. “We have an insufficient charge rate to fire the MAC guns.” “Understood,” Captain Keyes said. “Divert all power from the engines to regenerate gun capacitors.”
