Halo_ Ghosts of Onyx - Eric S. Nylund [114]
There had been serious nausea effects during the translocation. "Uncertainty errors," Dr. Halsey had called them.
It felt like Kurt's guts had been untwisted, and then dumped back into his body, inside out.
Holly had thrown up during the ride. She shook her head, clearing as much of her visor as possible. She didn't dare remove her helmet on hostile ground. There was a defogging vent that could dry the stuff, but that would take a few minutes.
She moved closer to Dante and set a hand on his shoulder.
The young Spartan's body lay against the wall, shrouded in a thermal blanket.
Kurt looked away—it was too painful, and he was grateful that no one could see his twisted expression.
"Are you certain we can't use nukes?" Kurt whispered to Dr. Halsey.
"The electromagnetic pulse will disrupt the translocation system for days." She glanced at her wristwatch. "In sixty-eight minutes what was set in motion by the arming of Halo rings comes to completion on this world. The doorway to the core room of Onyx closes. Without the translocation system we will have no way to move in, recover the technologies, and escape."
Fred nodded out to the factory. "If those things get out, engage the UNSC fleet, and win, then we're stuck here."
Dr. Halsey unfolded her laptop computer. She tapped a few keys and then turned the screen to face the Spartans. On the display was an overhead view of the factory. "Here, here, and here," she said pointing. "Take out these structures and Sentinel production will halt indefinitely."
The targets were a crystal energy emitter the size of a three-story building, a U-shaped object as large as a UNSC cruiser, and a titanic sphere that extended ten thousand meters under the floor.
"Oh… easy," Kelly quipped.
"If we use the rest of the C-12," Will said, "and a few SPNKr missiles, we might be able to shatter that crystal."
Fred shook his head. "Look at the map scale. The targets are thirty kilometers apart. It's going to take too much time to get there and set up."
Holly coughed, and said, "So we have to be in three places simultaneously, and we need ten times the firepower we currently have. That's not possible."
Kurt winced at this, reminded of the "nothing is impossible for a Spartan" credo. How many lives had it cost to prove that? Maybe this time they were in an intractable tactical jam.
They all stared at the diagram, stumped.
"… Rabbit," Ash whispered.
Kurt waited for an explanation, but Ash just continued to examine Dr. Halsey's map.
Kelly snapped her fingers. "I get it!" She snorted a single laugh. "Gutsy plan, kid."
Ash faced them. "We can be in three places at the same time," he said. "And we've got a hundred times the firepower we need." He turned and gazed out to the factory. "We're going to all be rabbits."
Ash resisted the urge to vomit. This was the stupidest plan he'd ever thought up. Too late now, though, to back out.
One moment he was on the ledge looking at Dr. Halsey while she manipulated holographic symbols—the next Team Saber was on the factory floor, his insides twisted around, and they were running for their lives.
From the clouds of Sentinels high overhead, a hundred pairs peeled off and dove after them.
The Spartans of Team Saber scattered, dodging under pipes and glowing crystalline conduits, moving as fast as they could. Speed was the only viable tactic now.
Ash spotted the target, looming so large before him that it seemed more geological feature than destructible object. The pyramid of spheres stretched up forever—millions and millions of golden balls hobbling in place, gently turning—all held in place by three massive subterranean force-field generators.
The floor was blue metal patterned with interlinked Forerunner symbols. Ahead, however, a glowing budge of silver shone like a beacon. Only ten meters across, this was the apex of one generator that extended ten thousand meters under the factory.
Overhead a fountain of molten metal arced kilometers through the air, a brilliant rainbow of fire. The magnetic alignment cou
pling at the base