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ERIC NYLUND
53
Johnson, and finally Haverson. "Unless anyone has a better
plan?"
They were silent.
"Anything to add, Cortana?" he asked.
"Our exit orbit burn leaves us low on fuel and traveling at high
velocity on an intercept course with the flagship. There are over-
lapping fields of enemy fire on our approach vector. We have to
decelerate and dodge simultaneously. That will be tricky."
"Polaski will be on that." The Chief turned to her.
"Pilot a Longsword?" Polaski slowly nodded, and there was
a gleam in her green eyes that hadn't been there a second ago.
"It's been a while, but yes, Master Chief. I am one hundred and
ten percent on it." She moved to the pilot's seat and strapped her-
self in.
"With all due respect to Miss Polaski's skill," Cortana said,
"allow me to point out that I process information a million times
faster and—"
"I need you to link with the flagship's intraship battlenet," the
Chief cut in. "When we're close you'll need to shut down its
weapons. Jam its communications."
"Sending an unescorted lady ahead to do your dirty work?"
Cortana sighed. "I suppose I'm the only one who can."
"Lieutenant Haverson," the Chief said, "I'll need you to pro-
gram the Moray mines to release and attach onto the Pelican
before we exit this orbit. Set half for detonation on impact.
Program the rest to detach and track any enemy ship on our
approach."
Haverson nodded and settled into the ops station next to
Polaski.
Two crates and a duffel pushed through the open access tunnel
to the Pelican. Locklear emerged from the opening and sealed
the hatch. "That's it, Chief," he said. "An HE Pistol, two extra
MA5Bs, one M90 Close Assault Shotgun, and a crate or so of
frag grenades. About a dozen clips for the rifles—only a few
shells for the shotgun, though."
The Chief took four grenades and a half dozen clips for his as-
sault rifle. He ejected his weapon's nearly spent magazine and
slapped a full one into place with a satisfying clack.
The Sergeant grabbed ammo, an MA5B, and three grenades.