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ERIC NYLUND
69
"Chief," Cortana said. "We may have a prob—"
"Hold transmission, Cortana," the Chief interrupted. "We're
outside the command center. Can you tell how many are inside?"
"Negative. They have disabled the bridge sensors," she replied.
"You heard Cortana," the Chief said, addressing his com-
panions. "Expect anything. Sergeant, you and Locklear: Get in
position."
"Roger that," Sergeant Johnson whispered. "In position and
ready to kick Covenant ass."
"We're about to blow the door on this end, Cortana. Stand by."
Cortana picked up energy surges on the flagship's lateral sen-
sors. The Covenant cruisers turned; their plasma weapons
warmed and readied to fire.
"Chief," Cortana said. "Hurry!"
"Plasma grenades on my mark," the Chief said on the COM.
"Mark! Toss them and take cover."
The Chief tossed two plasma grenades. They burned
magnesium-brilliant and adhered to the heavy alloy of the bulk-
head doors that encased the bridge—one of the alien weapons'
more useful properties. He moved around the corner of the pas-
sage and shielded Haverson and Polaski.
Five seconds elapsed, and a flash filled the hallway. The Chief
moved back to the doors. They shone mirror-bright where the
grenade had detonated but were otherwise unharmed.
A hundred grenades wouldn't have blasted through these
doors—but when Covenant plasma grenades detonated, they
disrupted electronics and shielding. The Chief dug his gauntleted
fingers into the door crack—hoping that the disruption had
knocked out the motors and shielding keeping these doors closed.
He braced himself and tried to pull the doors apart at the
seams. They slid a few centimeters, then ground to a halt. The
Chief adjusted his footing and strained at them again, but the doors
remained frozen in place.
The Chief's motion sensors pulsed a warning—there was
movement directly on the other side of the door.
He shoved the muzzle of his assault rifle into the narrow open-
ing and squeezed the trigger. Spent shell casings clattered to the
floor.