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John closed his fingers around the quarter. “Thank you, sir.”
He wanted to say that he was strong and fast because the Chief had made him so. He wanted to tell himthat he was ready to defend humanity against this new threat. He wanted to say that without the Chief,
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he would have no purpose, no integrity, and no duty to perform. But John didn’t have the words. He justsat there.
Mendez stood. “It has been an honor to serve with you.” Instead of saluting, he held out his hand.
John got to his feet. He took the Chief’s hand and they shook. It took a great deal of effort—everyinstinct screamed at him to salute.
“Good-bye,” Chief Mendez said.
He turned briskly on his heel and strode from the room.
John never saw him again.
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CHAPTER TWELVE
1750 Hours, November 27, 2525 (Military Calendar) / UNSC frigateCommonwealth en route to theUNSC Damascus Materials Testing Facility, planet Chi Ceti 4
The view screen in the bunkroom of the UNSC frigateCommonwealth clicked on as the ship enterednormal space. Ice particles showered the external camera and gave the distant yellow sun, Chi Ceti, aghostly ring.
John watched and continued to ponder the wordMjolnir as they sped in-system. He had looked it up inthe education database. Mjolnir was the hammer used by the Norse god of thunder. Project MJOLNIRhad to be some kind of weapon. At least he hoped it was; they neededsomething to fight the Covenant.
If it was a weapon, though, why was it here at the Damascus testing facility, on the very edge of UNSC-controlled space? He had only even heard of this system twenty-four hours ago.
He turned and surveyed the squad. Although this bunkroom had one hundred beds, the Spartans stillclustered together, playing cards, polishing boots, reading, exercising. Sam sparred with Kelly—although she had to slow herself down considerably to give him a chance.
John was reminded that he didn’t like being on starships. The lack of control was disturbing. If hewasn’t stuck in “the freezer”—the starship’s cramped, unpleasant cryo chamber—he was left waitingand wondering what their next mission would be.
During the last three weeks the Spartans had handled a variety of minor missions for Dr. Halsey. “Tyingup loose ends,” she had called it. Putting down rebel factions on Jericho VII. Removing a black-marketbazaar near the Roosevelt military base. Each mission had brought them closer to the Chi Ceti System.
John had made sure every member of his squad had participated in these missions. They had performedflawlessly. There had been no losses. Chief Mendez would have been proud of them.
“Spartan-117,”Dr. Halsey’s voice blared over the loudspeaker. “Report to the bridge immediately.”
John snapped to attention and keyed the intercom. “Yes, ma’am!” He turned to Sam. “Get everyoneready, in case we’re needed. On the double.”
“Affirmative,” Sam said. “You heard the Petty Officer. Dog those cards. Get into uniform, soldier!”