Halo_ The Fall of Reach - Eric Nylund [40]
another unpleasant announcement.” He turned to the Chief. “Chief Petty Officer Mendez will be departing us to train the next group of Spartans. Chief?” John grabbed the edge of the riser. Chief Mendez had always been there for them, the only constant in
the universe. Admiral Stanforth might as well have told him that Epsilon Eridani was leaving the Reach System.
The Chief stepped to the podium and clasped its edges. “Recruits,” he said, “soon your training will be complete, and you will graduate to the rank of Petty Officer Second Class in the UNSC. One of the first things you will learn is that change is part of a soldier’s life. You will make and lose friends. You will move. This is part of the job.”
He looked to his audience. His dark eyes rested on each one of them. He nodded, seemingly satisfied
with what he saw. “The Spartans are the finest group of soldiers I have ever encountered,” he said. “It has been a privilege to train you. Never forget what I’ve tried to teach you—duty, honor, and sacrifice for the greater good of humanity are the qualities that make you the best.”
He was silent a moment, searching for more words. But finding none, he stood at attention and saluted. “Attention,” John barked. The Spartans rose as one and saluted the Chief. “Dismissed, Spartans,” Chief Mendez said. “And good luck.” He finished his salute. The Spartans snapped down their arms. They hesitated, and then reluctantly filed out of the amphitheater. John stayed behind. He had to talk to Chief Mendez. Dr. Halsey spoke briefly with the Chief and the Admiral, then she and the Admiral left together.
Beowulf backed toward the far wall and faded away like a ghost. The Chief gathered his hat, spotted John, and walked to him. He nodded to the hologram of the scorched
colony, Harvest, still rotating in the air. “One final lesson, Petty Officer,” he said. “What tactical options do you have when attacking a stronger opponent?” “Sir!” John said. “There are two options. Attack swiftly and with full force at their weakest point—take
them out quickly before they have a chance to respond.” “Good,” he said. “And the other option?” “Fall back,” John replied. “Engage in guerrilla actions or get reinforcements.” The Chief sighed. “Those are the correct answers,” he said, “but it may not be enough to be correct this
time. Sit, please.” John sat, and the Chief settled next to him on the riser. “There’s a third option.” The Chief turned his hat over in his hands. “An option that others may
eventually consider. . . .” “Sir?” “Surrender,” the Chief whispered. “That, however, is never an option for the likes of you and me. We
don’t have the luxury of backing down.” He glanced up at Harvest—a glittering ball of glass. “And I doubt that an enemy like this willlet us surrender.”
“I think I understand, sir.” “Make sure you do. And make sure you don’t let anyone else give up.” He gazed into the shadows beyond the center platform. “Project MJOLNIR will make the Spartans into something . . . new. Something I could never forge them into. I can’t fully explain—that damned ONI spook is still here listening—just trust Dr. Halsey.”
The Chief dug into his jacket pocket. “I was hoping to see you before they shipped me out. I have
something for you.” He set a small metal disk on the riser between them. “When you first came here,” the Chief said, “you fought the trainers when they took this away from you —broke a few fingers as I recall.” His chiseled features cracked into a rare smile.
John picked up the disk and examined it. It was an ancient silver coin. He flipped it between his fingers. “It has an eagle on one side,” Mendez said. “That bird is like you—fast and deadly.” John closed his fingers around the quarter. “Thank you, sir.” He wanted to say that he was strong and fast because the Chief had made him so. He wanted to tell him
that he was ready to defend humanity against this new threat. He wanted to say that without the Chief,
he would have no