Part 5 (1/2)

”I copy. Plotting course now, Chief.” The voices arguing in the background became loud and more strained. ”I hope you know what you're doing. Polaski out.” The channel snapped off. ”Get us there, Cortana,” he said, tapping the NAV point. ”As fast as you can make this thing fly.” The Longsword rolled right and pitched toward the moon, Basis. The chief's safety harness groaned as gee forces increased.

”You do do know what you're doing?” Cortana asked. ”I mean, we're headed straight toward the largest and most dangerous Covenant s.h.i.+p in this system. I a.s.sume this is part of some daring and brutally simplistic plan you've cooked up?” know what you're doing?” Cortana asked. ”I mean, we're headed straight toward the largest and most dangerous Covenant s.h.i.+p in this system. I a.s.sume this is part of some daring and brutally simplistic plan you've cooked up?”

”Yes,” the Chief replied.

”Oh, good. Hang on,” Cortana said. The Longsword rolled to port and dived under a rock. An explosion detonated aft of the s.h.i.+p. ”Looks like your 'plan' has gotten their attention. I'm reading all six Covenant cruisers moving to overtake us at flank speed.”

”And the Pelican?” ”Still there,” Cortana reported. ”Taking heavy fire. But on trajectory to the NAV point. .. moving slower than us, of course.” ”Adjust our speed so we arrive at the same time. When you're in range for a secure system link, let me know.” The Longsword decelerated; it shuddered to starboard and then to port, and laser fire flashed along either side. ”You never told me,” Cortana said in a voice that was equal parts irritation and calm indifference, ”precisely what your plan is.”

”Something Captain Keyes would approve of.” The Chief summoned the navigation console on the main display. ”If we survive long enough, I want a course from here”-he tapped the NAV point over the flags.h.i.+p-”into the gravity well of Basis to slingshot us around.”

”Done,” Cortana replied. ”I still- Hey, they've stopped firing.”

The Chief tapped the aft camera. The six cruisers continued their pursuit, but the tips of their weapons cooled as they powered down. ”I was counting on this. We're on the same line of fire as their flags.h.i.+p. They won't shoot.”

”Pelican now twelve hundred kilometers and closing. Within range for system link.” The Chief hailed the Pelican. ”Polaski, release your controls. We're taking over.”

”Chief?”

”Establish encrypted system link. Acknowledge.”

A long pause, then, ”Roger.”

Cortana's hologram appeared on the tiny protection pad. She appeared to listen intently for a moment, and then declared, ”Got them.” ”Synchronize our courses, Cortana. Put us right on top of the Pelican.” ”Maneuvering to intercept the Pelican. Five hundred kilometers to flags.h.i.+p.” ”Prepare to alter our course, Cortana, as we pa.s.s the flags.h.i.+p. Also get ready to direct all scanners at the flags.h.i.+p if we pa.s.s.” '”If?” Cortana asked.

The flags.h.i.+p's turrets turned to bear on the Longsword and Pelican. They glowed like angry eyes in the dark.

”Three hundred kilometers.”

Light sparkled along the length of the Covenant craft as it prepared to fire; dull red plasma gathered; three torpedoes extruded and raced toward them.

”Evasiv-” the Chief said.

Cortana banked hard port, starboard, and then hit the afterburners and pulled up. Streaks of h.e.l.l&e brushed close to the hulls of the Longsword and Pelican-then were gone behind them.

The Chief had hoped for this: Their extreme oblique approach angle combined with their speed made them hard to hit, even for the notoriously accurate Covenant plasma weapons.

”Ten kilometers,” Cortana announced. ”Scanning in burst mode.”

They flashed over the three-kilometer-long s.h.i.+p in the blink of an eye. The Chief saw gun turrets straining to track their approach. The alien craft had sleek lines, relatively flat top to bottom, but it curved from stem to stern into three distinct bulb sections. Along its hull ran glowing blue conduits of superheated plasma; surrounding the s.h.i.+p was a faint s.h.i.+mmer of silver energy s.h.i.+elds.

He eased back into his seat. The Chief hadn't realized that he'd been holding his breath, and he exhaled. ”Good,” he said. ”Very good.”

”Burning into a high slingshot orbit,” Cortana announced.

The Longsword's engines rumbled. The acceleration played h.e.l.l with the Chief's inner ear. He wasn't certain for a moment which way was up.

”Bring us closer to the Pelican,” he said. ”Right on top. Give me a hard dock on its top access hatch.”

Cortana set her hands on her hips and frowned. ”Readjusting burn parameters. But you know a linked-s.h.i.+p configuration during an orbital burn is not stable.”

”We won't be linked long,” he said and slipped out of his harness. He drifted aft, pulled himself down to the floor and opened the Longsword's access hatch. Green lights on the intervening pressure door winked on in succession. He removed the safeties and popped the seal.

A hand reached up from the other side. John pulled the person through.

The shock only lasted a moment. John's reflexes kicked in- he grabbed a handful of the man's uniform, kicked the hatch shut, and propelled both of them against the hull. With a lightning-quick motion, he drew the newcomer's pistol and aimed it squarely at the man's forehead.

”You were dead,” the Chief said. ”I saw saw you die. On Jenkins's mission record. The Flood got you.” you die. On Jenkins's mission record. The Flood got you.”

The black man smiled a set of perfect white teeth. ”The Flood? h.e.l.l, Chief, it'll take more than that pack of walking alien horror-show freaks to take out Sergeant A. J. Johnson.”

CHAPTER SIX.

1710 hours, September 22,2552 (Military Calendar) Aboard Longsword fighter, uncharted system, Halo debris field.

The Master Chief held on to the s.h.i.+p's frame with one hand so he wouldn't float away in zero gee. With the other hand he pressed the pistol deeper into Johnson's forehead.

The Sergeant's smile faded, but there was not a trace of fear in his dark eyes. He snorted a laugh. ”I get it: You think I'm infected. Well, I'm not. This”-he patted his chest-”is one hundred percent grade-A Marine... and nothin' else.”

The Chief eased his stance but didn't lower the gun. ”Explain how that's possible.”

”They got us all right, those little mushroom-shaped infectious b.a.s.t.a.r.ds,” Johnson said. ”They ambushed me, Jenkins, and Keyes.” He paused at the Captain's name, then shook his head and went on. ”They swarmed all over us. Jenkins and Keyes were taken... but I guess I didn't taste too good.”

”The Flood doesn't 'taste' anything,” Cortana interjected. ”The Infection Forms rewrite a victim's cellular structure and convert him into a Combat Form, then later a Carrier Form-an incubator for more Infection Forms. Based on what we've seen, they certainly don't just decide to pa.s.s up a victim.”

The Sergeant shrugged. He fished into his pocket, found the remaining stub of a chewed cigar, and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. ”Well, I've I've seen different. They 'pa.s.sed me up' like I was undercooked spinach at a turkey dinner.” seen different. They 'pa.s.sed me up' like I was undercooked spinach at a turkey dinner.”

”Cortana,” the Chief asked. ”Is it possible?”

”It's possible? possible? she carefully replied. ”But it's also highly unlikely.” She paused for two heartbeats, and then added, ”According to the readings from the Sergeant's biomonitors, his story checks out. I can't be one hundred percent positive until he's been cleared in a medical suite, but preliminary findings indicate that he is clean of any Flood parasitic infection. He's obviously not a mindless, half-naked alien killing machine.” she carefully replied. ”But it's also highly unlikely.” She paused for two heartbeats, and then added, ”According to the readings from the Sergeant's biomonitors, his story checks out. I can't be one hundred percent positive until he's been cleared in a medical suite, but preliminary findings indicate that he is clean of any Flood parasitic infection. He's obviously not a mindless, half-naked alien killing machine.”

”All right.” The Chief clicked the pistol's safety to ”on” then flipped the pistol around and handed it back to the Sergeant, grip first. ”But I'm having you checked inside and out the first chance we get. We can't risk letting the Flood infection spread.”

”I hear you, Master Chief. Looking forward to those Navy nurses. Now-” The Sergeant pushed off the hull and drifted toward the hatch. ”-let's get the rest of the crew on board.” He hesitated by the cryotubes. ”I see you already picked up a few stragglers.”

”They'll have to wait,” the Chief said. ”It'll take half an hour to thaw them out without risking hypothermic shock. We don't have that much time left before we reengage the Covenant.”

”Reengage,” the Sergeant said, savoring the word. He smiled. ”Good. For a second I thought we were running away from a perfectly good fight.” The Sergeant opened the hatch to the Pelican.

The barrel of an MA5B a.s.sault rifle extended through the opening. The Sergeant reached down and pulled it up.

A Marine Corporal drifted though the hatch. The name st.i.tched on his uniform read LOCKLEAR. He was tanned, shaved bald, and had a wild look in his clear blue eyes. He retrieved his gun from the Sergeant and swept the interior with the point of his weapon. ”Clear!” he shouted back down into the Pelican. LOCKLEAR. He was tanned, shaved bald, and had a wild look in his clear blue eyes. He retrieved his gun from the Sergeant and swept the interior with the point of his weapon. ”Clear!” he shouted back down into the Pelican.

”At ease, Corporal,” the Master Chief said.

The Corporal's eyes finally locked onto the Chief. He shook his head in disbelief. ”A Spartan,” he muttered. ”Figures. Outta the friggin' frying pan-”