Dr. Halsey cleared her throat. The technicians turned-the AIs vanished.

John had been so focused on the holograms that he hadn't noticed the forty Plexiglas mannequins set up in rows. On each was a suit of armor.

The armor reminded John of the exoskeletons he had seen during training, but much less bulky, more compact. He stepped closer to one and saw that the suit actually had many layers; the outer layer reflected the overhead lights with a faint green-gold iridescence. It covered the groin, outer thighs, knees, shins, chest, shoulders, and forearms. There was a helmet and an integrated power pack-much smaller than standard Marine "battery sacks." Underneath were intermeshed layers of matte-black metal.

"Project MJOLNIR," Dr. Halsey said. She snapped her fingers and an exploded holographic schematic of the armor appeared next to her.

"The armor's sh.e.l.l is a multilayer alloy of remarkable strength. We recently added a refractive coating to disperse incoming energy weapon attacks-to counter our new enemies." She pointed inside the schematic. "Each battlesuit also has a gel-filled layer to regulate temperature; this layer can reactively change in density. Against the skin of the operator, there is a moisture-absorbing cloth suit, and biomonitors that constantly adjust the suit's temperature and fit. There's also an onboard computer that interfaces with your standard-issue neural implant."

She gestured and the schematic collapsed so that it only displayed the outer layers. As the image changed, John glimpsed veinlike microcapillaries, a dense sandwich of optical crystal, a circulating pump, even what looked like a miniature fusion cell in the backpack.

"Most importantly," Dr. Halsey said, "the armor's inner structure is composed of a new reactive metal liquid crystal. It is amorphous, yet fractally scales and amplifies force. In simplified terms, the armor doubles the wearer's strength, and enhances the reaction speed of a normal human by a factor of five."

She waved her hand through the hologram. "There is one problem, however. This system is so reactive that our previous tests with unaugmented volunteers ended in-" She searched for right word. "- failure." She nodded to one of the technicians.

A flat video appeared in the air. It showed a Marine officer, a Lieutenant, being fitted with the MJOLNIR armor. "Power is on," someone said from offscreen. "Move your right arm, please."

The soldier's arm blurred forward with incredible speed. The Marine's stoic expression collapsed into shock, surprise, and pain as his arm shattered. He convulsed-shuddered and screamed. As he jerked in pain John could hear the sounds of bones breaking.

The man's own agony-induced spasms were killing him.

Halsey waved the video away. "Normal humans don't have the reaction time or strength required to drive this system," she explained. "You do. Your enhanced musculature and the metal and ceramic layers that have been bonded to your skeletonshould be enough to allow you to harness the armor's power. There has been . . . insufficient computer modeling, however. There will be some risk. You'll have to move very slowly and deliberately until you get a feel for the armor and how it works. It cannot be powered down, nor can the response be scaled back. Do you understand?" be enough to allow you to harness the armor's power. There has been . . . insufficient computer modeling, however. There will be some risk. You'll have to move very slowly and deliberately until you get a feel for the armor and how it works. It cannot be powered down, nor can the response be scaled back. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the Spartans answered.

"Questions?"

John raised his hand. "When do we get to try them, Doctor?"

"Right now," she said. "Volunteers?"

Every Spartan raised a hand.

Dr. Halsey allowed herself a tiny smile. She surveyed them, and finally, she turned to John.

"You've always been lucky, John," she said. "Let's go."

He stepped forward. The technicians fitted him as the others watched and the pieces of the MJOLNIR system were a.s.sembled around his body. It was like a giant three-dimensional puzzle. "Please breathe normally," Dr. Halsey told him, "but otherwise remain absolutely still." John held himself as motionless as he could. The armor shifted and melded to the contours of his form.

It was like a second skin . . . and much lighter than he had thought it would be. It heated, then cooled- then matched the temperature of his body. If he closed his eyes, he wouldn't have known he was encased.

They set the helmet over his head.

Health monitors, motion sensors, suit status indicators pulsed into life. A targeting reticle flickered on the heads-up display. "Everyone move back," Halsey ordered. The Spartans-from their expressions, they were concerned for him, but still intensely curious-cleared a ring with a radius of three meters around him.

"Listen carefully to me, John," Dr. Halsey said. "I just want you to think, and only think, about moving your arm up to chest level. Stay relaxed." He willed his arm to move, and his hand and forearm sprang forward to chest level. The slightest motion translated his thought to motion at lightning speed. It had been so fast-if he hadn't been attached to his arm, he might have missed that it had happened at all. The Spartans gasped.

Sam applauded. Even lightning-fast Kelly seemed impressed. Dr. Halsey slowly coached John through the basics of walking and gradually built up the speed and complexity of his motions. After fifteen minutes he could walk, run, and jump almost without thinking of the difference between suit motion and normal motion.

"Petty Officer, run through the obstacle course," Dr. Halsey said. "We will proceed to fit the other Spartans. We don't have a great deal of time left." John snapped a salute without thinking. His hand bounced off his helmet and a dull ache throbbed in his hand. His wrist would be bruised. If his bones hadn't been reinforced, he knew they would have been pulverized.

"Carefully, Petty Officer. Very carefully, please."

"Yes, ma'am!"

John focused his mind on motion. He leaped over a three-meter-high wall. He punched at concrete targets-shattering them. He threw knives, sinking them up to their hafts into target dummies. He slid under barbed wire as bullets zinged over his head. He stood, and let the rounds deflect off the armor. To his amazement, he actually dodged one or two of the rounds.

Soon the other Spartans joined him on the course. Everyone ran awkwardly through the obstacles, though they had no coordination. John expressed his worries to Dr. Halsey. "It will come to you soon enough. You've already received some subliminal training during your last cryo sleep-" Dr. Halsey told them, "-now all you need is time to get used to the suits."

More worrisome to John was the realization that they'd have to learn how to work together all over again. Their usual hand signals were too exaggerated now-a slight wave or tremble translated into full-force punches or uncontrolled vibrations. They would have to use the COM channels for the time being.

As soon as he thought of this, his suit tagged and monitored the other MJOLNIR suits. Their standard-issue UNSC neural chip-implanted in every UNSC soldier at induction-identified friendly soldiers and displayed them on their helmet HUDs. But this was different-all he had to do was concentrate on them, and a secure COM channel opened. It was extremely efficient.

And much to his relief, after drilling for thirty minutes, the Spartans had recovered all of their original group coordination, and more.

On one level, John moved the suit and, in return, it moved him. On another level, however, communication with his squad was so easy and natural, he could move and direct them as if they were an extension of his body.

Over the hangar's speakers, the Spartans heard Dr. Halsey's voice: "Spartans, so far so good. If anyone is experiencing difficulties with the suit or its controls, please report in."

"I think I'm in love," Sam replied. "Oh-sorry, ma'am. I didn't think that was an open channel."

"Flawless amplification of speed and power," Kelly said. "It's like I've been training in this suit for years."

"Do we get to keep them?" John asked.

"You're the only ones who can use them, Petty Officer. Who else could we give them to? We-" A technician handed her a headset. "One moment, please. Report, Captain."

Captain Wallace's voice broke over the COM channels."We have contact with the Covenant ship, ma'am. Extreme range. Their Slips.p.a.ce engines must still be damaged. They are moving toward us via normal s.p.a.ce."

"Your repair status?" she asked.

"Long-range communications inoperable. Slipstream generators offline. MAC system destroyed. We have two fusion missiles and twenty Archer missile pods intact. Armor plating is at twenty percent." There was a long hiss of static. "If you need more time . . . I can try and draw them away."

"No, Captain," she replied, and carefully scrutinized John and the other armored Spartans. "We're going to have to fight them . . . and this time we have to win."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

2037 Hours, November 27, 2525 (Military Calendar) / In orbit over Chi Ceti 4 John piloted the Pelican through the exit burn of their orbital path, then sent the ship toward the last known position of theCommonwealth . The frigate had moved ten million kilometers in-system from their rendezvous point. . The frigate had moved ten million kilometers in-system from their rendezvous point.

Dr. Halsey sat in the copilot's seat, fidgeting with her s.p.a.ce suit. In the aft compartment were the Spartans, the three technicians from the Damascus facility, and a dozen spare MJOLNIR suits.

Missing, however, were the AIs John had seen when they had first arrived. All Dr. Halsey had time to do was remove their memory processor cubes. It was a tremendous waste to leave such expensive equipment behind.

Dr. Halsey examined the ship's short-range detection gear, then said, "Captain Wallace may be trying to use Chi Ceti's magnetic field to deflect the Covenant's plasma weapon. Try and catch up, Petty Officer."

"Yes, ma'am." John pushed the engines to 100 percent.

"Covenant ship to port," she said, "three million kilometers and closing on theCommonwealth ." ."

John b.u.mped up the magnification onscreen and spotted the ship. The alien vessel's hull was bent at a thirty-degree angle from the impact of the MAC heavy round, but it still moved at almost twice the speed of theCommonwealth . .

"Doctor," John asked, "does the MJOLNIR armor operate in vacuum?"

"Of course," she replied. "It was one of our first design considerations. The suit can recycle air for ninety minutes. It's shielded against radiation and EMP as well."

He then spoke to Sam over his COM link. "What kind of missiles is this bird carrying?"

"Wait one, sir,"Sam replied. His voice returned a moment later."We have two rocket pods with sixteen HE Anvil-IIs each."

"I want you to a.s.semble a team and go EVA. Remove those warheads from the wing pods."

"I'm on it,"Sam said.

Halsey tried to push her gla.s.ses up higher on her nose-instead she b.u.mped up against the faceplate of her suit's helmet. "May I ask what you have in mind, Squad Leader?" John left his COM channel open so the Spartans would hear his reply. "Requesting permission to attack the Covenant ship, ma'am." Her blue eyes widened. "Most certainly not," she said. "If a warship like theCommonwealth couldn't couldn't destroy it, a Pelican is certainly no match for them."

"Not the Pelican, no," John agreed. "But I believe we Spartans are. If we getinside the enemy ship, we can destroy her." Doctor Halsey considered, tapping her lower lip. "How will you get onboard?" "We go EVA and use thruster packs to intercept the Covenant ship as it pa.s.ses en route to the enemy ship, we can destroy her." Doctor Halsey considered, tapping her lower lip. "How will you get onboard?" "We go EVA and use thruster packs to intercept the Covenant ship as it pa.s.ses en route to theCommonwealth ." ."

She shook her head. "One slight error in your trajectory, and you could miss by kilometers," Dr. Halsey remarked. A pause. "I don't miss, ma'am," John said. "They have reflective shields." "True," John replied. "But the ship is damaged. They may have had to lower or reduce shielding in order to conserve power-and if we have to, we can use one of our own warheads to punch a small hole in the barrier." He paused, then added, "There's also a large hole in their hull. Their shield may not cover that s.p.a.ce entirely."

Dr. Halsey whispered, "It's a tremendous risk."

"With respect, ma'am, it's a bigger risk to sit here and do nothing. After they finish with theCommonwealth . . . they'll come for us and we'll have to fight them anyway. Better to strike first." She stared off into s.p.a.ce, lost in thought. . . . they'll come for us and we'll have to fight them anyway. Better to strike first." She stared off into s.p.a.ce, lost in thought.

Finally she sighed in resignation. "Very well. Go." She transferred the pilot controls to her station. "And blow the h.e.l.l out of them."

John climbed into the aft compartment. His Spartans stood at attention. He felt a rush of pride; they were ready to follow him as he leaped literally into the jaws of death.

"I've got the warheads," Sam said. It was hard to mistake Sam even with his reflective blast shield covering his face. He was the largest Spartan-even more imposing encased in the armor. "Everyone's got one." Sam continued as he handed John a metal sh.e.l.l. "Timers and detonators are already rigged. Stuck on a patch of adhesive polymer; they'll cling to your suit."

"Spartans," John said, "grab thruster packs and make ready to go EVA. Everyone else-" He motioned to the three technicians. "-get into the forward cabin. If we fail, they'll be coming after the Pelican. Protect Dr. Halsey."

He moved aft. Kelly handed him a thruster pack and he slipped it on.

"Covenant ship approaching," Halsey called out. "I'm pumping out your atmosphere to avoid explosive decompression when I drop the back hatch." "We'll only get one shot at this," John said to the other Spartans. "Plot an intercept trajectory and fire your thrusters at max burn. If the target changes course, you'll have to make a best guess correction on the fly. If you make it, we'll regroup outside the hole in their hull. If you miss-we'll pick you up after we're done."

He hesitated, then added, "And if we don't succeed, then power down your systems and wait for UNSC reinforcements to retrieve you. Live to fight another day. Don't waste your lives." There was a moment of silence.

"If anyone has a better plan, speak up now." Sam patted John on the back. "This is a great plan. It'll be easier than Chief Mendez's playground. A bunch of little kids could pull it off."

"Sure," John said. "Everyone ready?" "Sir," they said. "We're ready, sir!"

John flipped the safety off and then punched in the code to open the Pelican's tail. The mechanism opened soundlessly in the vacuum. Outside was infinite blackness. He had a feeling of falling through s.p.a.ce-but the vertigo quickly pa.s.sed.

He positioned himself on the edge of the ramp, both hands gripping a safety handle overhead.

The Covenant ship was a tiny dot in the center of his helmet's view screen. He plotted a course and fired the thruster pack on maximum burn. Acceleration slammed him into the thruster harness. He knew the others would launch right after him, but he couldn't turn to see them.

It occurred to him then that the Covenant ship might identify the Spartans as incoming missiles-and their point-defense lasers were too d.a.m.n accurate. John clicked on the COM channel. "Doctor, we could use a few decoys if Captain Wallace can spare them." "Understood," "Understood,"she said. The Covenant vessel grew rapidly in his display. A burst from its engines and it turned slightly. Traveling at one hundred million kilometers an hour, even a minor course correction meant that he could miss by tens of thousands of kilometers. John carefully corrected his vector.

The pulse laser on the side of the Covenant ship glowed, built up energy, until they were dazzling neon blue, then discharged-but not at him. John saw explosions in his peripheral vision. TheCommonwealth had fired a salvo of her Archer had fired a salvo of her Archer missiles. Around him in the dark were puffb.a.l.l.s of red-orange detonations-utterly silent.

John's velocity now almost matched that of the ship. He eased toward the hull-twenty meters, ten, five . . . and then the Covenant ship started to pull away from him. It was traveling too fast. He tapped his att.i.tude thrusters and pointed himself perpendicular to the hull. The Covenant hull accelerated under him . . . but he was dropping closer. He stretched out his arms. The hull raced past his fingertips a meter away.

John's fingers brushed against something-it felt semiliquid. He could see his hand skimming a near- invisible, gla.s.sy, shimmering surface: the energy shield. d.a.m.n. Their shields were still up. He glanced to either side. The huge hole in their hull was nowhere in sight.

He slid over the hull, unable to grab hold of it. No. No.He refused to accept that he had made it this far, only to fail now. A pulse laser flashed a hundred meters away; his faceplate barely adjusted in time. The flash nearly blinded him. John blinked and then saw a silvery film rush back around the bulbous base of the laser turret. The shield dropped to let the laser fire?

The laser started to build up charge again. He would have to act quickly. His timing had to be perfect. If he hit that turret before it fired, he'd bounce off. If he hit the turretas it fired . . . there wouldn't be much left of him. it fired . . . there wouldn't be much left of him.

The turret glowed, intensely bright. John set his thrust harness on a maximum burn toward the laser, noting the rapidly dwindling fuel charge. He closed his eyes, saw the blinding flash through his lids, felt the heat on his face, then opened his eyes-just in time to crash and bounce into the hull.

The hull plates were smooth, but had grooves and odd, organic crenellations-perfect fingerholds. The difference between his momentum and the ship's nearly pulled his arms out of their sockets. He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip.

He had made it.

John pulled himself along the hull toward the hole theCommonwealth 's MAC round had punched in the ship. Only two other Spartans waited for him there. "What took you so long?" Sam's voice crackled over the COM channel. The other Spartan lifted her 's MAC round had punched in the ship. Only two other Spartans waited for him there. "What took you so long?" Sam's voice crackled over the COM channel. The other Spartan lifted her helmet's reflective blast shield. He saw Kelly's face. "I think we're it," Kelly said. "I'm not getting any other responses over the COM channels."

That meant either the Covenant ship shielded their transmissions . . . or there were no Spartans left to communicate with. John pushed that last thought aside. The hole was ten meters across. Jagged metal teeth pointed inward. John looked over the edge and saw that the MAC heavy round had indeed pa.s.sed all the way through. He saw tiers of exposed decks, severed conduits, and sheared metal beams-and through the other side, black s.p.a.ce and stars.

They climbed down. John immediately fell down on the first deck. "Gravity," he said. "And with nothing spinning on this ship." "Artificial gravity?" Kelly asked. "Dr. Halsey would love to see this." They continued inward, scaling the metal walls, past alternating layers of gravity and free fall, until they were approximately in the middle of the ship.

John paused and saw the stars wheel outside either end of the hole. The Covenant ship must be turning. They were engaging theCommonwealth . "We better hurry." He stepped onto an exposed deck, and the gravity settled his stomach-giving him an up-and-down . "We better hurry." He stepped onto an exposed deck, and the gravity settled his stomach-giving him an up-and-down orientation. "Weapons check," John told them. They examined their a.s.sault rifles. The guns had made the journey intact. John slipped in a clip of armor- piercing rounds, noting with pleasure that the suit immediately aligned the sight profile of the gun with his targeting system. He slung the weapon and checked the HE warhead attached to his hip. The timer and detonator looked undamaged.

John faced a sealed set of sliding pressure doors. It was smooth and soft to his touch. It could have been made of metal or plastic . . . or could have been alive, for all he knew. He and Sam grabbed either side and pulled, strained, and then the mechanism gave and the doors released. There was a hiss of atmosphere, a dark hallway beyond. They entered in formation-covering each other's blind spots.

The ceiling was three meters high. It made John feel small. "You think they need all this s.p.a.ce because they're so large?" Kelly asked. "We'll know soon," he told her. They crouched, weapons at the ready, and moved slowly down the corridor, John and Kelly in front.

They rounded a corner and stopped at another set of pressure doors. John grabbed the seam. "Hang on," Kelly said. She knelt next to a pad with nine b.u.t.tons. Each b.u.t.ton was inscribed with runic alien script. "These characters are strange, but one of them has to open this." She touched one and it lit, then she keyed another. Gas hissed into the corridor. "At least the pressure is equalized," she said. John double-checked sensors. Nothing . . . though the alien metal inside the ship could be blocking the scans. "Try another," Sam said. She did-and the doors slid apart. The room was inhabited. An alien creature stood a meter and half tall, a biped. Its k.n.o.bby, scaled skin was a sickly, mottled yellow; purple and yellow fins ran along the crest of its skull and its forearms. Glittering, bulbous eyes protruded from skull-like hollows in the alien's elongated head. The Master Chief had read the UNSC's first contact scenarios-they called for cautious attempts at communication. He couldn't imagine communicating with something like this . . . thing. It reminded him of the carrion birds on Reach-vicious and unclean.

The creature stood there, frozen for a moment-staring at the human interlopers. Then it screeched and reached for something on its belt, its movements darting and birdlike.

The Spartans shouldered their weapons and fired a trio of bursts with pinpoint accuracy. Armor-piercing rounds tore into the creature, shredding its chest and head. It crumpled into a heap without a sound, dead before it hit the deck. Thick blood oozed from the corpse. "That was easy," Sam remarked. He nudged the creature with his boot. "They sure aren't as tough as their ships."

"Let's hope it stays that way," John replied.

"I'm getting a radiation reading this way," Kelly said. She gestured deeper into the vessel.

They continued down the corridor and took a side branch. Kelly dropped a NAV marker, and its double blue triangle pulsed once on their heads-up displays. They stopped at another set of pressure doors. Sam and John took up flanking positions to cover her.

Kelly punched the same b.u.t.tons she had punched before and the doors slid apart.

Another of the creatures was there. It stood in a circular room with crystalline control panels and a large window. This time, however, the vulture-headed creature didn't scream or look particularly surprised. This one looked angry. The creature held a clawlike device in its hand-leveled at John. John and Kelly fired. Bullets filled the air and pinged off a silver shimmering barrier in front of the creature.