Halo_ First Strike - Eric S. Nylund [71]
The Lieutenant pulled the magnification back and refocused the display on the upper atmosphere. A hundred Covenant ships popped into view. "There are several smaller vessels circling over that spot. Forget what I just said," Haverson whispered. "If the Covenant are so interested in this region, then we should be as well—as long as our cover holds. Cortana, take us in closer."
"Yes, Lieutenant," Cortana replied.
The Covenant flagship smoothly accelerated insystem.
"They're hailing us," Cortana said. "Preparing the proper counter-response."
John counted the ships on the display. There were hundreds— most no larger than a Covenant dropship, but there were at least a dozen cruisers and two of the titanic carriers that each carried three squadrons of Seraph fighter craft. There was more than enough firepower to turn their captured flagship into molten slag.
Many of the smaller ships herded debris from the battle into one spot over Reach—a floating junkyard of UNSC and Covenant ships.
"You see this?" The Master Chief pointed to the field of floating debris. The Lieutenant stared at it. "It's almost as if they planned to stay here for a while—they're cleaning house."
"We're in," Cortana announced. "The fleet is curious why a Covenant flagship is here, but not suspicious enough to question our authority. The translation is tricky. But apparently from the string of honorifics attached to their responses there's supposed to be someone of extreme high rank commanding this ship, someone they referred to, among other things, as the 'Guardian of the Luminous Key.' "
"Damn silly name," muttered Sergeant Johnson. "Can you tell what they're doing down there, Cortana?" the Lieutenant asked.
"Not yet," she replied. "Their language doesn't translate in a literal manner, and each word has multiple meanings. There's something they consider holy—there are ten times as many religious allusions than in their typical communiques. Hang on . . . picking up a new signal. Weaker than the others. Not on a Covenant frequency. It's the UNSC E-band."
Lieutenant Haverson licked his lips. "Play it," he said.
A message beeped through the speakers, six tones, then a two-second pause; it repeated. The Master Chief stiffened. "That's it," Cortana said. "Just those six notes over and over. It
originates here." A tiny NAV triangle appeared on the edge of the intact region on the planet's surface.
"It's not Morse code," Polaski said. "Not any code I've heard of. Maybe it's a test signal? Something automated, like an air-traffic repeater relay, maybe?"
"It's not automated," the Master Chief said. "Everyone gear up and get ready. We're going down there. There are Spartans down there. And they're still alive."
He whispered so softly that only he and Cortana heard: "Oly Oly Oxen Free."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
1002 hours, July 14,2523 (Military Calendar)\Epsilon Eridani system, planet Reach, Spartan training exercise. Twenty-nine years ago.
John crawled forward and peered over the edge of the rise. A lush, green valley stretched out below him. In the distance, the silvery reflections of the Big Horn River twisted through the thick forest. Aside from a flock of birds that wheeled overhead, there was no activity below. He inched back to a blackened, hollow tree stump and crawled inside.
Fred and Linda sat inside the hollowed-out cedar stump. It muffled their conversations and insulated them from the soldiers' thermal goggles. "It's all clear for now," he whispered. A moment later Sam, Kelly, and Fhajad appeared, ghostlike, from their camouflaged positions nearby. They crouched outside the cedar stump and watched for patrols.
From a distance they looked like soldiers on field maneuvers. Each was tall, fit, and agile, and looked to be in their late teens or early twenties. Closer observation told a different story. Each Spartan was no more than twelve years