Halo_ First Strike - Eric S. Nylund [152]
He added Corporal Locklear to his list and designated him Killed In Action. It was a more fitting end for a man who had been as much a warrior as any Spartan.
The last three names on his list he stared at for a long time: Warrant Officer Shiela Polaski, Lieutenant Elias Haverson, and Admiral Danforth Whitcomb. He reluctantly listed them as KIA and referenced his mission report, which detailed their heroism.
Two men had stopped a Covenant armada. They had willingly died doing it, and they had bought the human race a brief respite from destruction.
John felt glad. They were soldiers, sworn to protect humanity from all threats, and they had fulfilled their duty as few ever could. And like his Spartans who were "missing in action," the Admiral and the Lieutenant would never die, either. Not because of a technicality in a mission status listing, but because in their deaths they would live on as inspirations.
John turned and watched as Linda, Will, and Fred occupied the bridge stations. John would make sure that he and the last surviving Spartans did the same.
The elevator doors opened, and Sergeant Johnson stepped onto the bridge. "Got all those Covenant Engineers rounded up on B-Deck," Sergeant Johnson announced. "Slippery suckers."
The Chief nodded.
"The boys at ONI and those squid heads have a lot in common. Can't understand a thing they say and they're just as good looking. Guess they're all going to have a long talk about technical whatsits and scientific doodads when we get home."
Sergeant Johnson crossed the bridge to the Master Chief. "There's one other thing. Another ONI thing." He held out a data crystal and his gaze fell to the deck. "Lieutenant Haverson gave this to me before he and the Admiral left. He said you'd have to deliver it for him."
John stared at the data crystal and reluctantly plucked it from the Sergeant's fingers as if it were a slug of unstable radioactive material.
"Thank you, Sergeant." He hesitated and then added, "I'll take care of this."
The Sergeant nodded and strode toward Weapons Station One.
John turned back to the blank monitors and retrieved the other data crystal from his belt compartment. Yesterday he had believed he had done the right thing by giving the Lieutenant all of Dr. Halsey's Flood data—including the data on the Sergeant, which she assured him would lead to his death.
But now?
Now, John knew the difference one man could make in this war. He understood Dr. Halsey's desire to save every person she could.
John held the two data crystals, one in each hand, and stared at them—trying to discern the future from their glimmering facets.
That was the point, wasn't it? He couldn't know the future. He had to do what he could to save every person. Today. Now.
So he decided.
He tightened his fist around the crystal with the complete mission data and crushed it to dust. John couldn't condemn Sergeant Johnson.
He hefted the remaining data crystal. There would have to be enough in it for ONI. He set the crystal securely back into his belt.
Today they had won. They had stopped the Covenant. John would return to Earth with a warning and enough intel to keep scientists at ONI busy.
But what about tomorrow? The Covenant didn't give up once they set their sights on a target. They wanted Earth—they'd come for it. Destroying their fleet would only delay that inevitable fact.
They had time, though. Maybe enough time to prepare for whatever the Covenant could throw at them.
John would take today's victory. And he'd be there when the fighting started again—he'd be there to win.
SECTION VII
HARBINGER
EPILOGUE
Ninth Age of Reclamation, Step of Silence \ Covenant Holy City"High Charity," Sanctum of the Hierarchs.
A hundred thousand probes darted and scanned with winking electronic eyes across the void of tangled nonspaces enveloping the Covenant inner empire. They gathered data and emerged into the cold vacuum, where they were recovered by the hundreds of supercarriers and cruisers in station-keeping positions around