Halo_ Ghosts of Onyx - Eric S. Nylund [32]
motion in the grass on the edges of the field.
Tom signaled his scouts to fall back while Lucy maneuvered to get a better line. Tom ran in a crouch to intercept.
He spotted three targets, their SPI armor mimicking the grass well, but not well enough
to cover the parted grass at their feet. They turned to face Lucy.
Tom fired, spraying at knee level where the armor was weakest.
Three human-shaped outlines crushed the grass, screaming and convulsing as the
rubber bullets pelted them.
Lucy joined him and opened fire.
When the screaming stopped, Tom moved in and peeled off their armor, revealing three
very dazed DIs. They had not identified themselves, so by the rules of engagement they were fair targets.
Adam ran up and helped him and Lucy strip the bodies.
"Pistols and MA5Ks, both with stun ammunition," Adam said.
Lucy held up a double handful of grenades, and smiled. "Flash-bangs."
"Now," Tom said, grinning, "this really gets interesting."
The moon had come out and set. The grass was wet with dew and Tom's stomach
growled so loud he thought it might give away his position in the dark.
Five waves of DIs had come, and been neutralized by a now armed, armored, and fully equipped Spartan Trainee Defense Team. The instructors were tied up in the middle of the field by the bell. Hostages.
Tom and the other Spartans were working together like they never had before. And they were winning. He was hungry, wet, and cold, but Tom
wouldn't have traded places with anyone in the entire galaxy. He heard a rustle in the tall grass, turned, machine gun aimed waist high. There was nothing there, and nothing on the thermals, either. He must be getting jumpy. A hand clamped on his shoulder, while another hand wrenched the machine gun from his
grasp. Chief Mendez stood over him. At his side was Lieutenant Ambrose. Tom half expected Mendez to shoot him right there. "I think that's quite enough," Mendez growled. The Lieutenant knelt beside Tom and whispered, "Good work, son."
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CHAPTER
TEN
0420 HOURS, FEBRUARY 19, 2551 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ABOARD UNSC HOPEFUL, INTERSTELLAR SPACE, SECTOR K-009 (FIVE YEARS AFTER SPARTAN-III BETA COMPANY OPERATION TORPEDO AT PEGASI DELTA)
Kurt walked the empty corridors of the UNSC Hopeful and entered the atrium. Blazing lights overhead mimicked a realistic sun. Air recirculators made the leaves of the small grove of white oaks rustle. He smelled lavender, a scent he hadn't experienced since he was a child.
The most extravagant feature of the Hopeful, however, was
the ten-meter curving window in the atrium—something utterly unheard of on any other ship in the UNSC fleet.
But then the Hopeful was unlike any other ship in the fleet.
Naval officers described her as "the ugliest thing to ever float in zero gee." The ship had been built before there had been major rebel activity in the colonies. A private medical corporation had purchased two scrapped repair stations—each a square kilometer plate of scaffolding, cranes, and cargo trams. These two plates had been connected to make an off-centered "sandwich," and within, a state-of-the-art hospital and research facility had been constructed.
In 2495 the UNSC had commandeered the vessel, added engines, minimal defensive systems, six fusion reactors, and a Shaw-Fujikawa translight system, and transformed the Hopeful into the largest mobile battlefield hospital in history.
While most Naval officers agreed she was unsightly, every en-listed Marine Kurt had ever spoken with declared her the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.
The Hopeful had taken on mythical proportions with the men and women who had to fight and die on the front lines. She had been damaged, but had survived, eighteen major Naval battles with rebel forces and four encounters with the Covenant. The ship's staff and technology had a reputation of saving lives, in many cases literally bringing the dead back to life.
Today the ship had been parked in interstellar space— essentially