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“Of course,” Captain Keyes said. “And the Pelicans? One of them had extra armor.”
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“The Spartans were working on it. Some sort of boarding craft.”
“The Spartans?” Captain Keyes asked. “They’re already onboard?”
“Yes, sir. They were here before we got on board.”
“Take me to them, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.” Lieutenant Hikowa stopped the elevator and hit the button for C deck.
Twenty-five years ago Captain Keyes had helped procure the Spartan candidates for Dr. Halsey. She hadsaid they might one day be the best hope the UNSC had for peace. At the time he’d assumed that theDoctor was prone to hyperbole—but it appeared that she’d been correct. That didn’t make what they haddone right, though. His complicity in those kidnappings still haunted him.
The elevator doors opened. The primary storage bay had been converted into barracks for the thirtySpartans. Every one of them wore MJOLNIR battle armor. They looked alien to him. Part machine, parttitan—but completely inhuman.
The room was filled with motion—Spartans unpacked crates, others cleaned and field-stripped theirassault rifles, and a pair of them practiced hand-to-hand combat. Captain Keyes could barely follow theirmotions. They were so fast, no hesitation. Strike and block and counter-strike—their movements were acontinuous stream of rapid-fire blurs.
Captain Keyes had seen the news feeds and heard the rumors, like everyone on in the fleet—theSpartans were near-mythological figures in the military. They were supposed to be super-humansoldiers, invulnerable and indestructible—and it was almost the truth. Dr. Halsey had shown him theiroperational records.
Between the Spartans and the refittedPillar of Autumn , Captain Keyes was beginning to believe Dr.Halsey’s long-shot mission might work after all.
“Captain on the deck!” one of the Spartans shouted.
Every Spartan stopped and snapped to attention.
“As you were,” he said.
The Spartans relaxed slightly. One turned and strode toward him.
“Master Chief SPARTAN 117 reporting as ordered, sir.” The armored giant paused, and for a moment,
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Keyes thought the Spartan looked uncomfortable. “Sir, I regret the unit was not able to ask yourpermission to come aboard. Admiral Stanforth insisted we keep our presence off the COM channels andcomputer networks.”
Captain Keyes found the reflective faceplates of the Spartans’ helmets disconcerting. It was impossibleto read their features.
“Quite all right, Master Chief. I just wanted to extend my regards. If you or your men need anything, letme know.”
“Yes, sir,” the Master Chief said.
An awkward moment of silence passed. Captain Keyes felt like he didn’t belong here—an intruder in avery exclusive club. “Well, Master Chief, I’ll be on the bridge.”
“Sir!” The Master Chief saluted.
Captain Keyes returned the salute and left with Lieutenant Hikowa.
When the elevator doors closed, Lieutenant Hikowa said, “Do you think—I mean with all due respect tothe Spartans, sir—don’t you think they’re . . . strange?”