Halo: Ghosts of Onyx

"Great," Kurt replied. "Let them."

A new volley of plasma bolts streamed through the breached wall.

Ash's shield unit sputtered and overloaded. He rolled flat to avoid getting burned.

Fred and Kelly tossed grenades. Distant explosions and screams echoed.

Another section of wall heated… and another. The Covenant weren't going to give up so easily. They'd open as many holes as they needed to penetrate their defenses.

"You don't understand," Endless Summer said. "Once the alien forces have finished with the Covenant ships, they will focus on the lesser threat: the UNSC battle group in orbit. The one sent here to rescue you."

The strategic picture instantly shifted in Kurt's mind. The fate of this battle group and his Spartans were linked. Save the ships and they'd have a way off this rock. Fail… and they'd be stuck here fighting Sentinels and Covenant ground forces until hell froze. Rescuing the other SPARTAN-IIIs in cryo would have to wait.

"This Sentinel factory produces a new unit every six seconds," the AI explained. "At that rate they will soon overwhelm any force the USNC can send."

"Can you find this place?" Kurt asked Dr. Halsey. "Can you move us there?"

She chewed on her lower lip. Her hands moved quickly over symbols, rotating the holographic projection of the planet around them at a dizzying rate.

"Got it," she said.

Endless Summer bowed and winked off.

Kurt motioned for the Spartans to fall back to the center of the room.

"Do it," he said. "Now."

The walls of the chamber exploded inward.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

2050 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, PLANET ONYX \ SENTINEL MANUFACTURING FACILITY UNDER NORTHERN POLAR REGION

Kurt crawled to the edge where Linda and Chief Mendez had posted, and peered out upon the vast factory, although the word "factory" was wholly inappropriate to describe the engineering wonderland.

From his perch stretched a cavernous space so large that he detected the slight arc of the planet's curve in the distance. The roof was beyond the range finder on Linda's Oracle sniper scope, and thin black clouds drifted two-thirds of the way from (he ceiling.

A machine the size of a battleship spewed a river of molten alloy into the air. This liquefied metal arced up and then cascaded into a hollow tower that pulsed with bioluminescent colors. From the bottom tumbled countless tiny parts winking with light.

These parts were whisked away by ribbons of shimmering energy so thick with distortion that Kurt couldn't see what occurred within… but from the opposite end streamed a never-ending procession of three-meter cylinders.

A pyramid five times the height of the Great Pyramid of Giza sat kilometers from Kurt's vantage. Instead of stone blocks, however, the structure was composed of floating golden spheres that turned and glowed with Forerunner hieroglyphs etched upon their surfaces.

Every six seconds a sphere from the apex of the pyramid ascended in a shaft of silver light. As it rose, the light intensified so even with maximum polarization on his faceplate Kurt could not discern what occurred there. When the sphere emerged, three rods accompanied it, all parts spinning in null gravity, flexing, until the pieces settled into their deadly recognizable configuration— a Sentinel of Onyx.

The new drone flew off into the clouds overhead… which Kurt could only estimate were thousands of completed units.

He blinked, wondering how they were going to shut this place down, and backed away from the edge.

Deeper in the shadows of the wide ledge sat a four-meter-diameter platform and a tiny holographic console: Dr. Halsey's "translocation" device.

She knelt in the middle, scanned the drifting symbols, and occasionally tapped one that interested her.

She had saved them—moved them from the map room to this Sentinel factory in the blink of an eye.

Fred, Kelly, and Will crouched around the platform, sniper rifles leveled. Not that shooting would have done any good, but at least they'd see any approaching Sentinel.

In front of the SPARTAN-IIs sat Ash, Holly Olivia, Mark, Tom, and Lucy—a collection of mottled blacks and grays in their camouflaging SPI armor. They held }ackal shield gauntlets, ready to activate them to protect the others.

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 was Blue Team's target. Tom and Lucy had stealthed ahead of them all to blow up the three-story-tall crystal on the far side of the factory.

Ash paused and turned to see where the pursuing Sentinels were.

His eyes registered flashes. His training took over and his body moved before he cluttered his mind with thought.

He stepped right, pushed off, and jumped left. The floor exploded. Shrapnel tore through his SPI armor, and he was remotely aware that something had happened to his left leg, but he ignored it.

Ash rolled, turned, and chucked a grenade as three Sentinel pairs streaked over him.

The grenade bounced off their shields, and harmlessly detonated in the air.

At least this part of the plan was working; they were drawing fire.

He detected a dozen more Sentinels in the air, shooting at other targets, bathing the factory in brilliant gold illumination, razor-sharp shadows, and glowing molten craters.

Ash broadcast on TEAMCOM: "Form up; accelerate approach to target."

On his TACMAP he marked the apex of the generator, and then placed a secondary marker on the extraction point—a location three hundred meters distant over open ground.

Ash charged forward, running a crazy pattern—right, left, sudden stops, rolls and ducks.

Energy beams fell around him. Fire washed over him. Liquid metal spattered his back, but he didn't flinch. His eyes clouded red, and his vision tunneled on the glowing target ahead.

He had to get there. He would get there.

Ash sprinted straight ahead. Every muscle pumped and burned with lactic acid.

Olivia and Holly got to the dome, turned, and their Jackal gauntlets crackled to life. They stood together, overlapping energy shields.

Behind them loomed the impossibly large pyramid of spheres, all eyes turning toward them.

"Hurry," Holy cried over TEAMCOM. She raised the bottom edge of her shield a half meter. "Under—quick!"

Ash jumped, dove under their feet and behind the energy shields.

Light surrounded him, and the floor to either side melted and blasted away.

He stood between his teammates and snapped on his own Jackal gauntlet.

Mark joined them.

Ash hesitated, waiting for Dante to get there. He then realized his grim mistake. He wished his friend was here by his side… but he was gone, and Dante would have wanted the team to keep their heads. Fight. And win.

Ash watched the swarm of enemies surrounding them. There were about forty Sentinel pairs. They could have all fired, and blown Team Saber to hell, but instead they looked wary… like they were thinking this through.

Which was the one thing he couldn't let happen.

"Get their attention," Ash told Mark.

Mark nodded, and hefted their only SPNKr missile launcher. He angled it at a cluster of Sentinels at four o'clock.

The missile streaked through the air and hit a pair dead center—mushrooming into thunder and smoke. The Sentinels, behind their shields, were untouched.

The hovering Sentinels ceased circling and seven aligned one behind the other to form a line pointed at Team Saber.

"Tighten it up, guys," Ash ordered. "Olivia, eye on our six."

The Spartans huddled as close as they could.

"All clear behind," Olivia whispered. "Best exit vector at nine o'clock."

There was no way a few Jackal shields could withstand a combined energy blast that had leveled an entire granite mesa.

Then again, they wouldn't have to.

The seven Sentinels adjusted their aim and their spheres glowed red, amber, and then glistening gold.

"Stand by," Ash whispered over TEAMCOM. He crouched lower and gritted his teeth.

The drones contracted and the glare from their spheres intensified.

"Go!" Ash cried.

The Spartans of Team Saber jumped, rolled, and scattered.

The Sentinels fired a culminated beam of energy that struck where Team Saber had been a moment ago—a direct hit on the glowing dome of the force-field generator.

Ash turned away, but the concussive blast rolled through his body. Shrapnel cut into his back, and skin blistered.

He focused on the second NAV marker on his heads-up display: the one thing that mattered now.

He ran toward it, a tiny platform three hundred meters away—the only way out.

Around him the air paused, and then rushed backward toward the generator with hurricane force. He turned, curiosity overcoming the instinct to flee.

Where the silver dome had been there was a blackened crater of twisted metal. The Sentinels had moved in, projecting their shields over the open wound, but the crater's edges crinkled as atmosphere sucked inside.

More Sentinels rushed toward the breach, trying to hold it.

A silver flash overwhelmed Ash's senses. There was a double explosion and a giant hand swatted him. He tumbled ten meters and slammed to a halt flat on his back.

Dazed, he slowly got up. The Sentinels were gone. The crater they had tried to hold was now a smoking rift a hundred meters wide.

The pyramid of spheres, the mountain of metal, shuddered.

That force-field generator was only one of three, but without it in place, the formation was unbalanced. And when a million ball bearings stacked upon one another were not exactly balanced… Ash turned and sprinted.

Ahead, Holly had fallen and struggled to get to her feet. He went to her, grabbed her hand, and lifted her up.

But they both froze as they caught a glimpse of the pyramid.

The outer layers of spheres tumbled and bounced off their fellows, a chain reaction of cascading destruction; rivers of metal balls flowed, then torrents, an avalanche that rolled across the floor in great waves, tons of metal headed for them.

"Guys! Move it!" Mark yelled over TEAMCOM.

Ash blinked and snapped out of his stupor.