Halo_ First Strike - Eric S. Nylund [44]
The Engineer released its grasp on him and cluttered with excitement.
Diagnostic routines scrolled upon the Chief's heads-up display. In the upper right corner the shield recharge bar flickered red and slowly filled.
"They work," the Master Chief said. John was relieved to have his shields back. He wouldn't forget what it was like to fight without them, though. It had been a wake-up call: not to become dependent upon technology. It was also a reminder that most battles were won or lost in his head, before he engaged any enemy.
"Impressive little creatures," Haverson remarked. He scrutinized the Covenant Engineer as it floated toward the wall of displays and began tinkering with one. "I wonder how the Covenant caste system—"
"Sir!" Sergeant Johnson's voice blasted over the COM, breaking with static. "You've got to get down to the Pelican ASAP. You and the Chief."
"Are you under fire?" the Chief asked.
"Negative," he replied. "It's one of the cryotubes you recovered."
"What about it, Sergeant?" Haverson snapped.
"Chief, there's a Spartan in it."
CHAPTER TEN
1852 hours, September 22,2552 (Military Calendar) \ Captured Covenant flagship, in Slipspace, location unknown.
After the Chief had left to investigate the cryopod, Haverson made certain that the bridge doors locked. He turned and walked over to the Covenant Engineer who'd repaired the Master Chief's armor.
"Fascinating creatures," he murmured. He drew his sidearm and pointed it at the back of its head.
Two of the Engineer's six eyes locked onto the muzzle of the weapon. A tentacle reached for it, split into fine probing threads, and touched the blue-gray metal.
Cortana asked, "What are you—"
Haverson shot the Engineer. The round tore through its head and spattered gore across the display the alien had been repairing. "Haverson!" Cortana cried. The other Engineer turned and squealed—then a blinking
light on the broken display captured its attention and it returned to its work, oblivious.
Haverson knelt by the dead Engineer and holstered his gun. "I had no other choice," he whispered. He touched the creature's odd, slick skin. Its color faded from a faint pink to a cold gray.
He dragged it to the escape hatch, opened it, and placed the body in the corridor. He paused, and went back to fold its tentacles over its body. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve it."
"Why was that necessary?" Cortana demanded.
Haverson stood, wiped his hands on his slacks, and sealed the escape hatch access. "I'm surprised you even have to ask, Cortana." He heard the anger in his voice. He checked his rising ire.
He wasn't mad at Cortana; he was mad at himself—furious because of the ugly necessity of his act.
"The Covenant are imitative—not innovative," he said. "The Engineer you ordered to repair the Chief's armor just got a firsthand look at our shield technology, a technology we stole from the Covenant and improved upon. If it somehow managed to rejoin the Covenant, that improved technology would be theirs. How would you like to see that technology manifest as better personal shields for their Elite warriors? Or on their warships?"
Cortana was silent. "Corporal Locklear was right," Haverson muttered. "I really hate this shit, too." "I understand," Cortana finally replied, but her voice was so cold it could have frozen helium.
Haverson sighed and looked at his hands. The Engineer's blood tattooed his skin with tiny pinpoints of blue-black. "Do you think that the Master Chief will find what he's really looking for on Reach?"
"What do you mean 'really looking for'?" Cortana said. Her voice was still frosty, but curiosity thawed her tone.
"I mean the other Spartans." Haverson gave a short laugh. "True, his argument to go to Reach was valid—we wouldn't be going otherwise. But that's not what he's after. He sent his team down to the surface of Reach... sent them to their deaths. What commander wouldn't go back? And what commander wouldn't hope that they were alive? No matter what the odds?"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
0930 hours, September