Halo: Ghosts of Onyx

"We can't allow the Covenant to get inside," Kurt said, "and I'm not sending part of our team ahead. It would only weaken our forces here, and potentially leave any advance party facing Sentinels on the other side."

She looked up at him and sighed. "I find myself reluctantly agreeing with your tactical analysis."

Kurt unholstered his M6 pistol and set it next to her. "You may need this. Doctor. Keep your head down."

She took the gun and racked the slide as if she had used one many times before.

Kurt moved back to the upper ledge.

The Elites had spread out in three lines. They presented Jackal shields, interlinked them, and started a slow advance toward the hill. This was another inspired tactic. If the Spartans fired at them, they'd just burn through these disposable shields and would still have their personal overshields to contend with.

The Hunter pairs towered in the center of the formations. The thick slabs of alloy they used for shields were impenetrable to any weapon they had.

Kurt glanced to Ash standing by his side, and then to his pack on the ground. Inside were the two cut-down FENRIS warheads. Kurt double-checked the detonator control pad in his gauntlet's data socket. Still there.

"All squads," Kurt ordered. "Counter incoming enemy vectors."

Ash and Olivia moved closer to Kurt at his seven o'clock position. Kelly, Will, Holly, and Lucy clustered at four o'clock. Chief Mendez, Fred, Mark, and Tom took position at twelve o'clock.

"At fifty meters," Kurt continued, "pitch grenades to break those lines, plasma first to drain shields, then the frags. Ignore the Hunters. Follow up with sniper fire. When they're close enough, use rifles."

"How close, sir?" Holly asked. There was a quaver in her voice—not fear, but anticipation.

"When they're on the stairs," Kurt told her. "Kelly, stand ready with the LOTUS mines."

Kurt knew they couldn't stop them all. Some would get to the base of the hill. And some would climb the stairs. How many depended on their skill, timing, and a great deal of luck.

Green acknowledgment lights flashed, and the Spartans tensed.

The advancing Elites were two hundred meters away. They hadn't fired a single shot yet.

Whoever commanded them showed uncommon restraint.

Kurt searched for the glistening gold armor of a Ship or Fleet Master, but only saw the red battle gear of Covenant Majors on the field.

One hundred meters.

The SPARTAN-IIIs shifted from foot to foot, a nervous gesture not mirrored in the battle- hardened SPARTAN-IIs whose bio signs on Kurt's tactical display barely showed a flutter.

Chief Mendez caught Kurt's assessing look and gave him a confident nod.

This was what he and Mendez had trained the Spartans for their entire lives. They would survive this. They had to.

At fifty meters he spotted Elite soldiers opening and closing their four hinged jaws as if anticipating human blood.

"Throw—now," Kurt ordered.

Blurred trajectories of burning blue plasma zipped through the air, followed by fragmentation grenades.

The advancing Elites hesitated, and a ripple distorted through their precise lines. The plasma grenades hit; there was a flash of blue-white that drained clusters of overlapping Jackal shields and knocked many Elites to their knees. Fragmentation grenades hit, bounced, and rolled into their ranks—and exploded.

Bodies and splashes of blood flew through the air; blue and red armor tumbled from the center of the blast.

Kurt hefted his sniper rifle and targeted Elites still dazed, their overshields weakened and flickering.

The Elite Majors growled orders, and the lines struggled to close.

Kurt squeezed off a shot, and the round tore through one Elite's open helmet, emerging out the back in a spray of blue.

To Kurt's right and left came the popcorn crackle of single shots, and more Elites in the broken line fell.

Three Elites stood their ground and returned fire.

Plasma bolts impacted on the stone near Kurt's head. He felt the heat wash over his SPI armor plates.

This was what he had hoped for: chaos. He'd happily exchange fire at this range when he had a scope, cover, and a superior angle.

A Hunter bellowed in rage, lumbered to one of the Elites returning fire instead of re- forming the line, and hammered that Elite with one massive fist—crushing its spine. Turning, the Hunter screamed at the other two Elites and they quickly closed ranks.

Kurt kept firing, picking off stragglers as their formation knit together—shooting one Elite in the knee joint, one in the eye, until their Jackal shields overlapped.

He took a quick body count. Eleven down in the formation approaching his position.

They continued their advance to less than five meters from the base of the stairs.

"Hold your fire," Kurt ordered. "Kelly, LOTUS to standby"

The flowerlike LOTUS antitank mines had been placed in the crux of the first steps and overlaid with a square of silver reflective blanket that served as camouflage in the brilliant light.

Two groups of five Elites split from their line and took up position to either side of the stairs, angling their shields toward the top. Five more Elites took cover behind them and opened fire. Plasma and crystal shards flashed up the slope.

Kurt ducked and the air scintillated overhead. He crawled to the edge and peered over.

The Hunters moved up the stairs followed by the balance of the Elite warriors… just passing the first step.

"Now," he told Kelly.

The LOTUS exploded into a multipetaled flash of lightning, thunder, and fire, enveloping the approaching force.

The concussive force roiled though Kurt's insides.

Three simultaneous sonic booms echoed off the walls.

Kurt popped up with his assault rifle and opened fire. Ash and Olivia were at his side, MA5Ks spitting rounds down the staircase.

The Hunter pair, halfway up the steps, stood stunned and bloodied by the concussive force, their impenetrable shields askew.

Kurt aimed at the closest Hunter's unarmored center. Rounds tore into its exposed flesh.

The tangles of eels within his armor writhed and made the monster's bulk seem to boil. He grabbed his last plasma grenade, sidearmed it.

The grenade stuck to the Hunter's abdomen—flashed, and ignited a dozen of the orange eel symbiotes constituting its form. Many fell out, aflame, burning and squealing on the steps.

The Hunter staggered back and fell; the gestalt lost cohesion and spilled into a smoldering mound of worms.

The surviving Hunter ducked behind its shield, bellowing a vengeful cry.

Kurt picked up a rifle and joined Ash and Olivia, combining fire to penetrate the overshields of the remaining Elite solders on the stairs.

A cluster of Elites at the base regrouped, their shields regenerated, and they returned fire.

Ash and Olivia ducked behind cover.

The hill trembled behind Kurt.

He turned and saw a Hunter pair plod onto the top at the four o'clock position, flanked by a vanguard of three Elites with energy swords.

Kelly reacted first, moved in, grabbed an Elite's wrist, and snapped it. She followed with an elbow to the Elite face— twisted the sword free and slashed, cutting it in half, as well as the two Elites on either side.

She spun to face the Hunters.

For once in her life, she was too slow.

The monsters had leveled their fuel-rod cannons at Kelly. They had her.

Holly jumped between Kelly and the weapons.

The Hunters fired, outlining both Spartans in the blinding green radiation for a split second.

The overpressure of both point-blank fuel-rod cannon detonations threw Kelly, Will, and Lucy into the air.

Holly exploded backward—a spray of molten SPI armor, disintegrating flesh, and jets of smoke.

Kurt stood horrified, frozen, but then instincts and training clicked on full force, and without thinking, he rushed forward before the Hunters could finish his prone teammates.

The nearest Hunter turned on him faster than he expected— slicing its two-ton shield into Kurt's solar plexus.

The outer layer of Kurt's armor cracked and the liquid ballistic underlayers failed and squirted out. Pain ripped through his torso; ribs cracked; he coughed and blood spattered the inside of his faceplate.

He dropped in a heap at the Hunter's boots, dazed, only recovering his wits enough to see the Hunter raise both fists over him for the killing blow.

Linda's sniper rifle cracked. The exposed region of the Hunter's midsection exploded in a mass of orange, but it remained miraculously upright.

Will hurled himself at the Hunter, and knocked the beast off its feet and into its mate— and the three of them tumbled down the stairs.

Kurt got up, ignoring the near-blinding pain, and limped to the edge.

Will stood between both Hunters at the base of the hill. He kicked the nearest in the unarmored middle and it staggered back.

Around him were a dozen Elites who, confronted by the sight of a lone Spartan engaging two Hunters in hand-to-hand combat, were momentarily too stunned to act.

Kurt and Lucy opened fire, suppressing the Elites, before they regained their senses.

One Hunter lashed out with its shield. Will ducked, darted inside its reach, and battered its bruised midsection—punching through flesh and ripping out wriggling chunks of the composite eel colony.

The second Hunter angled away from the fight and brought its cannon to bear.

Will spun around.

The Hunter shot him.

Will's energy shield vanished, and the front of his MJOLNIR armor melted. He took a step toward the beast, and collapsed.

The Hunter turned and roared at the Spartans at the top of the hill, and then started to bring its tremendous shield back in line… A SPNKr missile screamed past Kurt's head, leaving a spiral of propellant exhaust, streaked toward the Hunter, and impacted dead center of its mass.

The air erupted into a blurred sphere of explosive force. The nearby Elites were tossed aside like rag dolls, their shields flaring. The Hunter burst into a cloud of snakelike parts that wetly spattered upon the floor.

Kurt turned and saw Fred kneeling next to him, his spent SPNKr tube smoking.

It was silent.

Nothing moved. Not the Elites, the Hunters, or William.

Kelly and Linda finally rose, shaking off the concussion from the fuel-rod cannon detonation. They stood with Kurt and Fred and stared at their fallen comrade.

Ash was on his knees where Holly had stood a second ago. There were the outlines of two bootprints on the stone… nothing else.

Two Spartans down in a matter of seconds. One an old friend, the other a girl Kurt had known since she was four years old. Yet, he couldn't stop and think about it—not when they were surrounded by enemies. There were still many lives that were his responsibility.

Kurt looked away and assessed the remaining threat.

Olivia, posted at seven o'clock, waved Kurt closer. He limped to her.

"They just pulled back," she whispered.

From the hill base, the Hunter and the surviving Elites had re-formed their line and were retreating, already fifty meters away.

Kurt made his way to the twelve o'clock point, to Mendez, Mark, and Tom. Chief Mendez met him. The old man had never looked so grim.

"They're pulling back here, too, sir," Mendez said. "Doesn't make sense. Covenant always fight to the last one."

Kurt called up the roster on his display, still stained by his own blood, and checked TEAMBIO.

Will's vitals were flatlined. Holly's signal… was entirely missing.

Over TEAMCOM he said, "Eyes peeled, everyone. Kelly, get Will. Linda, cover her."

They moved, but no green acknowledgment lights flashed, the only sign of their numbing grief.

Kurt sat down, suddenly too tired to think.

Then he noticed his bio signs: failing blood pressure, erratic heartbeat, electrolytes all wrong. There was internal bleeding. He found a can of biofoam, inserted its tip into his armor's mid line injection port, and emptied it.

The expanding liquid polymer chilled his chest.

He closed his eyes, and when he looked again his blood pressure had stabilized. His head had cleared.

Fred made a short come-here gesture and Kurt groggily rose and went to his comrade.

"There." Fred pointed to far side of the core room. "Three hundred fifty meters. Step up polarization to ninety-five percent, sir, and you'll see them." His voice trembled with rage.

Kurt darkened his faceplate, and then understood the reason for the Covenant's retreat.

Over a hundred fresh Elites massed behind energy-shield generators. Banshee fliers zipped back and forth over them. Plasma cannons were assembled by squads of Grunts. In the very front, Kurt spied a glint of gold armor, their leader— staring back at him.

"They softened us up before the main offensive," Kurt whispered.

"Orders, sir?" Fred asked.

Between the mental shock of losing Holly, Will, and Dante, and the physiological shock his body fought off, Kurt had forgotten he was in charge. His duty to get the alien technology and preserve the entire human race came back with crushing weight.

In truth, there were few options left.

They could fight: advance to meet this new threat before their forces fully crystallized. In the open terrain though, without artillery or armor or air support, even Spartans would be cut down.

They could run: use the Slipspace rift in the core. The Covenant force would certainly follow, possibly destroy them, and gain more Forerunner technologies. That was not acceptable. Not when it had cost them so much to get this far.

There was still his last option: the nukes. If he couldn't stop the Covenant, he could deny them their prize. He'd take the warheads to the core and blow it all to hell.

"Keep me posted and stand by," he told Fred, and then limped down to the center.

Dr. Halsey met him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Holly and Will—"

She stopped midsyllable and Kurt saw her glasses reflected the jiggling lines of his TEAMBIO signals. He had had no idea she could intercept their encrypted COM channel.

"You're wounded," she stated, and seemed to stare into his body. "Internal bleeding… your liver… massive laceration…" Her gaze came back into focus, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "You're going to bleed out, Kurt, if I don't operate. The only thing holding you together inside is biofoam."