Filter
Top Products
ERIC NYLUND
3
Master Chief SPARTAN-117—John—marched to the nearest
COM panel as Captain Keyes's face filled the screen.
Fred sensed a slight movement to his right—a subtle hand sig-
nal from Kelly. He opened a private COM freq to his teammate.
"Looks like we're in for more surprises," she said.
"Roger that," he replied, "though I think I've had enough sur-
prises for one op."
Kelly chuckled.
Fred focused his attention on John's exchange with Keyes.
Each Spartan—selected from an early age and trained to the pin-
nacle of military science—had undergone multiple augmenta-
tion procedures: biochemical, genetic, and cybernetic. As a
result, a Spartan could hear a pin drop in a sandstorm, and every
Spartan in the room was interested in what the Captain had to
say. If you 're going to drop into hell, CPO Mendez, the Spartans'
first teacher, had once said, you may as well drop with good intel.
Captain Keyes frowned on the ship's viewscreen, a
nonregula-tion pipe in his hand. Though his voice was calm, the
Captain's grip on the pipe was white-knuckle tight as he outlined
the situation. A single space vessel docked in Reach's orbital
facilities had failed to delete its navigational database. If the
NAV data fell into Covenant hands, the enemy would have a map
to Earth.
"Master Chief," the Captain said, "I believe the Covenant will
use a pinpoint Slipspace jump to a position just off the space
dock. They may try to get their troops on the station before the
Super MAC guns can take out their ships. This will be a difficult
mission, Chief. I'm... open to suggestions."
"We can take care of it," the Master Chief replied.
Captain Keyes's eyes widened and he leaned forward in his
command chair. "How exactly, Master Chief?"
"With all due respect, sir, Spartans are trained to handle diffi-
cult missions. I'll split my squad. Three will board the space dock
and make sure that NAV data does not fall into the Covenant's
hands. The remainder of the Spartans will go groundside and re-
pel the invasion forces."
Fred gritted his teeth. Given his choice, he'd rather fight the
Covenant on the ground. Like his fellow Spartans, he loathed
off-planet duty. The op to board the space dock would be fraught