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Silva was too many decks removed to feel the explosion, or to hear the muffled thump, butwas able to witness the results firsthand. Someone yelled, “The controls are gone!” The deck tilted as theTruth and Reconciliation did a nose-over, and Wellsley made one last comment.
“You taught her well, Major. Ofthat you can be proud.”
Then the bow struck, a series of explosions rippled the length of the hull, and the ship, as well as all of those aboard her, ceased to exist.
“You’re sure?” ’Zamamee demanded, his voice slightly distorted by both the radio and an increasing amount of static.
Yayap wasn’t sure of anything, other than the fact that the reports flowing in around him were increasingly negative, as Covenant forces came under heavy fire from both the Floodand the Sentinels. Something had caused a rock to form down in the Grunt’s abdomen—and made him feel slightly nauseated.
But it would never do to say that, not to someone like ’Zamamee, so he lied instead. “Yes, Excellency. Based on the reports, and looking at the schematics here in the Communications Center, it looks like the human will have little choice but to exit via hatch E-117, make his way to lift V-1269, and go up to a Class Seven service corridor that runs along the ship’s spine.”
“Good work, Yayap,” the Elite said. “We’re on our way.”
For reasons he wasn’t entirely sure of, and in spite of his many failings, the Grunt felt a strange sense of affection for the Elite. “Be careful, Excellency. The human is extremely dangerous.”
“Don’t worry,” ’Zamamee replied, “I have a surprise for our adversary. A little something that will even the odds. I’ll call you the moment he’s dead.”
Yayap said, “Yes, Excellency,” heard a click, and knew it was the last time he would hear the officer’s voice. Not because he believed that ’Zamamee was going to die—but because he believedall of them were about die.
That’s why the diminutive alien announced that he was going on a break, left the Communications Center, and never came back.
Shortly thereafter he loaded a day’s worth of food plus a tank of methane onto a Ghost, steered the vehicle out away from thePillar of Autumn , and immediately found what he was searching for: a sense of peace. For the first time in many, many days Yayap was happy.
As the final grenade went off, the Master Chief felt the shaft he was standing on shake in sympathy and Cortana yelled into his ears. “That did it! The engines will go critical. We have fifteen minutes to get off the ship! We should move outside and get to the third deck elevator. It will take us to a Class Seven service corridor that runs the length of the ship. Hurry!”
The Chief jumped up onto the Level Three platform, blasted a combat form, and turned toward the hatch off to his right. It opened, he passed through, and ran the length of the passageway. A second door opened onto the area directly in front of the large service elevator.
The Chief heard machinery whir, figured he had triggered a sensor, and waited for the lift to arrive. For the first time in hours there was no immediate threat, no imminent danger, and the Spartan allowed himself to relax fractionally. It was a mistake.