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52
HALO: FIRST STRIKE
Haverson frowned. "Chief, if we approach that ship we'll be
blown out of the sky before we can even think about engaging
them."
"Normally, yes," the Chief replied. "But we're going to rig
the Pelican as a fireship—we load it with Moray mines and
send it out ahead of us. We'll have to remote-pilot the Pelican,
but it can be accelerated past the point where a crew would
black out. It'll draw enemy fire, drop a few mines, and let us
slip by."
Polaski's expression hardened into a frown.
"There a problem, Warrant Officer?"
"No, Master Chief. I just hate to lose a good ship. That bird
got us off Halo in one piece."
He understood. Pilots got attached to their ships. They gave
them names and human personalities. The Chief, however, never
fell into that trap; he had long ago learned that any equipment
was expendable. Except, maybe, Cortana.
"So we get close to the flagship," Haverson said and crossed
his arms over his chest. "Are we going nose to nose with a ship
with a thousand times our firepower? Or are you planning an-
other flyby?"
"Neither." The Chief pointed to the flagship's fighter launch
bay. "That's our LZ."
Polaski squinted at the comparatively tiny opening in the belly
of the flagship. "That's a hell of a window to hit coming in this
fast, but"—she bit her lower lip, calculating—"technically pos-
sible in a Longsword."
"They'll launch Seraph fighters to engage the Pelican and the
Longsword," the Chief said, "and to do that, they'll have to drop
that section of their shields. We get in, neutralize the crew, and
we have a ship with Slipspace capability."
"Rock 'n' roll!" Locklear yelled over the COM. "Penetrate
and annihilate!"
Sergeant Johnson chewed on his cigar as he considered the plan.
"No one has ever captured a Covenant ship," Haverson whis-
pered. "The few times we've had one of them beaten and in a po-
sition to surrender, they've self-destructed."
"There's no choice," the Chief said. He looked over Polaski,