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ERIC NYLUND
269
"Master Chief," the Sergeant said. "Reporting as you
requested."
John nodded and lowered his gun, as did the other Spartans.
"Come in, Marines."
As he holstered his weapon, John's hand brushed against the
belt compartment that held Dr. Halsey's data crystals. He hadn't
decided which to give to Lieutenant Haverson. Did he sacrifice
the Sergeant to save billions from potential Flood infestation?
Did it even matter? He had every reason to believe that the Flood
had been destroyed with Halo—but what if he was wrong?
"I wanted you both down here to help us discuss our tactical
options," John told them.
The COM pulsed to life. Dr. Halsey said, "Master Chief?"
"Yes, Doctor?"
"I need Kelly to report to Medical Four," she said. "She re-
quires one last injection of dermacortic steroids. And I could use
her assistance on another matter."
John nodded to Kelly.
She slowly stretched, stood, sighed, and marched out of the
room. "I'll be right back," she said, flexing her burned hands.
"Don't plan the overthrow of the Covenant Empire without me."
"She's on her way, Doctor."
The COM snapped off.
The Master Chief turned to his Spartans and the Marines.
"Let's go over what we know and see if we've missed anything—
any way to exploit the enemy's plan." He set down a data pad
with a star map glittering upon its surface.
"The Covenant are on their way to Earth," he told them. "They
are gathering at a battle station and then jumping en masse to the
Sol system."
"What happens then?" Fred asked.
"Assuming we get to Earth first," Linda answered, "our Fleet
will be waiting for them, and"—she pulled back the bolt on her
rifle with a clack—"they'll give them a warm reception."
"But what chance will our forces have?" Will asked. There
was no fear in his voice, just cool logic. "You saw Cortana's re-
port. There will be hundreds of Covenant warships. I don't think
our Fleet or even Earth's orbital MAC platforms can repel a
force that powerful."