Halo_ Ghosts of Onyx - Eric S. Nylund [117]
Rings of gold strobed on the platform and then vanished; Tom and Lucy stood there,
hands raised in an instinctive effort to ward off danger. Wisps of plasma curled and dissipated around them.
"—Now," Tom finished. He exhaled a long sigh and then reported to the Lieutenant Commander, "Mission accomplished, sir."
In the distance small explosions popped, sounding like a string of firecrackers. The flying Sentinel formations scattered— some crashing into one another, others accelerating straight into the walls.
Dr. Halsey consulted her watch. "We have fifty-three minutes before the core-room entrance closes, Kurt."
The Lieutenant Commander nodded. "Everyone on the platform," he ordered. "Doctor, move us to Team Katana's location."
Unease already settling into his stomach, Ash crowded onto the four-meter pad with his teammates.
Funny, but he hadn't thought of the older Spartans as part of the team until now. Or was he part of their team? He then noticed the blood oozing from his armor joints, mirrored red by the camouflaging panels. Baptized in battle. They'd lost Dante, too. High prices to pay.
Chief Mendez watched the self-destructing factory. "That's a lot of Sentinels," he murmured. "Wonder why they only deployed a fraction of them?"
"Setting time delay for three seconds," Dr. Halsey said, shut her laptop, and then joined them.
Mendez's remark bothered Ash more than he could explain, and the unease in his gut intensified. There were hundreds oi' thousands of Sentinels here. Why just have them sit around? They had to serve some purpose…
Rings of light enveloped the squad.
Ash hoped he never found out why. He just wanted to rescue Katana, get the technology Dr. Halsey had promised, and get out of here before the Covenant caught up with them.
He had a feeling, though, it wasn't going to be that easy.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
2105 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, ORBIT NEAR THE MOON OF ONYX \ ABOARD UNSC PROWLER DUSK
Commander Richard Lash supervised the release of the mines.
He and Lieutenant Commander Cho monitored the launch bay of the Dusk. The closet-sized chamber behind the tiny observation window had been chilled near absolute zero. The nukes inside had been cycled through three thermal cooldowns and were now the same temperature as interstellar space.
The tiny HORNET warheads had been transferred aboard from the Brasidas, a destroyer with extensive damage. Thankfully Cho had detected the minuscule leak from their reactor and moved off before it irradiated the Dusk's hull. That would have lit them up against the background intrasolar radiation and fatally compromised their stealth ability.
"Let her fly," Lash ordered.
"Releasing," Cho whispered. He grasped the manual override claw, and with supreme concentration, he dropped the warhead.
The bay door irised open and the black egg-shaped HORNET mine dropped from its carrier and, centimeter by centimeter, drifted into space.
"That was the last, sir." Cho wiped the beads of sweat that had collected on his wrinkled forehead.
Cho was technically past the mandatory retirement age in the UNSC prowler corps. This was a fact that had been carefully ignored by Captain Iglesias. The UNSC was running out of qualified recruits, and Cho would have been impossible to replace.
Lash gave him an approving nod, which was as much praise as the old engineer was ever comfortable with.
"Thank you, sir."
Lash entered the tube to the bridge and pushed off, propelling himself in the null gee, somersaulting and then using his legs to brake. He took a moment to compose himself before he opened the hatch. In the last fifteen minutes the Dusk had seeded the space on the dark side of the moon of Onyx with fourteen nuclear mines—thirty-megaton yield with vacuum-enhanced loads.
Delicate work to stay stealthed and get them all deployed on Admiral Patterson's timetable, but they'd done it.
All it had cost was the fraying of Lash's already shot nerves. He smoothed his uniform, brushed his