第3页

　　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
　　4 HALO:  FIRST  STRIKE
　　with  danger  at  every  turn—unknown  enemy  deployment,  no  gravity,  useless  intel,  no  dirt  beneath  his  feet.
　　There  was  no  question,  though:  The  space  op  was  the  toughest  duty,  so  Fred  intended  to  volunteer  for  it.
　　Captain  Keyes  considered  John's  suggestion.  "No,  Master  Chief.  It's  too  risky—we've  got  to  make  sure  the  Covenant  don't  get  that  NAV  data.  We'll  use  a  nuclear  mine,  set  it  close  to  the  docking  ring,  and  detonate  it."
　　"Sir,  the  EMP  will  burn  out  the  superconductive  coils  of  the  orbital  guns.  And  if  you  use  the  Pillar  of  Autumn's  conventional  weapons,  the  NAV  database  may  still  survive.  If  the  Covenant  search  the  wreckage—they  may  obtain  the  data."
　　"True,"  Keyes  said  and  tapped  his  pipe  thoughtfully  to  his  chin.  "Very  well,  Master  Chief.  We'll  go  with  your  suggestion.  I'll  plot  a  course  over  the  docking  station.  Ready  your  Spartans  and  prep  two  dropships.  We'll  launch  you—"  He  consulted  with  Cortana."—in  five  minutes."
　　"Aye,  Captain.  We'll  be  ready."
　　"Good  luck,"  Captain  Keyes  said,  and  the  viewscreen  went  black.
　　Fred  snapped  to  attention  as  the  Master  Chief  turned  to  face  the  Spartans.  Fred  began  to  step  forward—
　　—but  Kelly  beat  him  to  it.  "Master  Chief,"  she  said,  "permis?sion  to  lead  the  space  op."
　　She  had  always  been  faster,  damn  her.
　　"Denied,"  the  Master  Chief  said.  "I'll  be  leading  that  one.
　　"Linda  and  James,"  he  continued.  "You're  with  me.  Fred,  you're  Red  Team  leader.  You'll  have  tactical  command  of  the  ground  operation."
　　"Sir!"  Fred  shouted  and  started  to  voice  a  protest—then  squelched  it.  Now  wasn't  the  time  to  question  orders...  as  much  as  he  wanted  to.  "Yes,  sir!"
　　"Now  make  ready,"  the  Master  Chief  said.  "We  don't  have  much  time  left."
　　The  Spartans  stood  a  moment.  Kelly  called  out,  "Attention!"  The  soldiers  snapped  to  and  gave  the  Master  Chief  a  crisp  salute,  which  was  promptly  returned.
　　Fred  switched  to  Red  Team's  all-hands  freq  and  barked,  "Let's  move,  Spartans!  I  want  gear  stowed  in  ninety  seconds,  and  final
　　ERIC  NYLUND 5
　　prep  in  five  minutes.  Joshua:  Liaise  with  Cortana  and  get  me  current  intel  on  the  drop  area—I  don't  care  if  it's  just  weather  satellite  imagery,  but  I  want  pictures,  and  I  want  them  ninety  seconds  ago."
　　Red  Team  jumped  into  action.
　　The  pre-mission  jitters  were  gone,  replaced  with  a  cold  calm.  There  was  a  job  to  do,  and  Fred  was  eager  to  get  to  work.
　　Flight  Officer  Mitchell  flinched  as  a  stray  energy  burst  streaked  into  the  landing  bay  and  vaporized  a  meter-wide  section  of  bulk?head.  Red-hot,  molten  metal  splattered  the  Pelican  dropship's  viewport.
　　Screw  this,  he  thought,  and  hit  the  Pelican's  thrusters.  The  gunmetal-green  transport  balanced  for  a  moment  on  a  column  of  blue-white  fire,  then  hurtled  out  of  the  Pillar  of  Autumn's  launch  bay  and  into  space.  Five  seconds  later  all  hell  broke  loose.