Then, just as suddenly as the violence had started, it was over. Snow swirled around the sole figure who remained standing, began the long, painstaking job of covering each body with a shroud of white, and fostered an illusion of peace.
Cortana took advantage of the momentary pause to update the Spartan regarding her plan. “We need to buy some time in case the Monitor or his Sentinels find a way to activate Halo’s final weapon without the Index.
“The machines in these canyons are Halo’s primary firing mechanisms. They consist of three phase pulse generators that amplify Halo’s signal and allow it to fire deep into space. If we damage or destroy the generators, the Monitor will need to repair them before Halo can be used. That should buy us some time. I’m marking the location of the nearest pulse generator with a nav point. We need to move and neutralize the device.”
“Roger that,” the Chief said, as he made his way down the first ramp to the platform below. Once again the element of surprise worked in his favor. He killed two Elites, caught a couple of Jackals as they tried to run, and nailed a Grunt as it appeared from below.
The wind whistled around the side of the pyramid. The Spartan left a trail of large bootprints as he made his way down to the point where the ramp met the next level walkway, crossed to the other side of the structure, and ran into a pair of Elites as they hit the top of the up ramp and rounded the corner.
There wasn’t enough time to do anything but fire, and keep on firing, in an attempt to overwhelm the Covenant armor. It wouldn’t have worked had the aliens been farther away, but the fact that the plasma pulses were pounding them in close made all the difference. The first Elite made a horrible gurgling sound as he fell and the second got a shot off but lost half of his face. He brought his hands up to the hole, made a gruesome discovery, and was just about to scream when an energy bolt took his life.
Then, as the Spartan prepared to descend into the valley below, Cortana said, “Wait, we should commandeer one of those Banshees. We’ll need it to reach the pulse generator in time.” Like many of the AI’s suggestions, this was easier said than done, but the Chief was in favor of speed, and filed the possibility away.
Now, as he came down off the pyramid, he saw lots of Covenant, but no Flood, and felt a strange sense of relief. The Covenant were tough, but he understood them, and that lessened his apprehension.
The alien plasma rifle lacked the precision offered by an M6D pistol or a sniper’s rifle, but the Chief did the best he could to pick off some of the Covenant below. Still, he had only nailed three of the aliens when his efforts attracted the attention of a Wraith tank, along with more troops. There was nothing he could do except retreat back uphill.
The Wraith, which continued to hurl plasma bombs up-slope, actually helped by preventing other Covenant forces from charging after him. That advantage wouldn’t last long, though, which meant that he had to find some additional fire power, and find it fast.
Even though there was no sign of the Flood at the moment, some of their half-frozen bodies lay scattered about, suggesting that there had been a significant battle within the last couple of hours. He knew the Flood carried weapons acquired from dead victims, so the Chief ran from corpse to corpse, looking for what he required. For a while it seemed hopeless as he uncovered a series of M6Ds, energy pistols, combat knives, and other gear – anything and everything except what he needed most.
Then, just when he had nearly given up hope, he saw a few inches of olive drab tubing protruding from under a dead combat form. He rolled the ex-Elite over, and felt a rising sense of excitement. Was the launcher loaded? If so, he was in luck.
A quick check revealed that the weaponwas loaded, and as if to prove that luck comes in threes, the Spartan found two reloads only a few meters away.
Armed with the launcher, he was ready to go to work. The Wraith represented the most significant threat, so he decided to deal with that first. It took time to make his way back across the face of the pyramid to a point where he could get a clear shot, but he did. The monster was dangerously close as he put a pair of rockets into the mortar tank, and watched it explode.
He ejected the spent rocket tubes, slammed a reload home, and shifted his aim. Two more rockets lanced ahead, and detonated in clusters of Covenant soldiers. He fell back and slung the rocket launcher; he had a limited supply of rockets, and once they were gone, he had no choice but to go down onto the valley floor and finish the job the hard way.
He crept up on the pair of Elites who stood guard near a Banshee. They went down from deadly, spine-cracking blows and he stepped past their fallen corpses. He examined the Banshee’s controls while Cortana pulled up files the tech boys in Intel had prepared based on examinations of captured craft.
He boarded the single-seat aircraft, and activated its power plant. He wondered why the aliens hadn’t used the ship against him, was thankful that they hadn’t, and eyed the instrument panel. The Master Chief had never flown one of the attack ships before, but was qualified to fly most of the UNSC’s atmospheric and spacegoing ships so, between his own experience and the tech files Cortana provided, he found the controls relatively easy to understand. The takeoff was a bit wobbly, but it wasn’t long before the flight began to smooth out, and the Banshee started to climb.
It was dark, and snow continued to fall, which meant that visibility was poor. He kept a close eye on both the nav point Cortana had projected onto his HUD and the instrument panel. The design was different, but an alien turn and bank indicator still looked like what it was, and helped the human maintain his orientation.
The attack ship made good speed, and the valleys were quite close together, so it wasn’t long before the Spartan spotted the well-lit platform which jutted out from the face of the cliff, as well as the enemy fire which lashed up to greet him. The word was out, it seemed – and the Covenant didn’t want any visitors.
Rather than put down under fire, he decided to carry out a couple of strafing runs first. He swooped low and used the Banshee’s plasma and fuel rod cannons to sweep the platform clear of sentries before decelerating for what he hoped would be an unopposed landing.
The Banshee crunched into the platform, bounced once, then ground to a halt. The Chief dismounted, passed through a hatch, and entered the tunnel beyond.
“We need to interrupt the pulse generator’s energy stream,” Cortana informed him. “I have adjusted your shield system so that it will deliver an EMP burst and disrupt the generator... but you’ll have to walk into the beam to trigger it.”
The Master Chief paused just shy of the next hatch. “I’ll have to do what?”
“You’ll have to walk into the beam to trigger it,” the AI repeated matter-of-factly. “The EMP blast should neutralize the generator.”
“Should?” the Chief demanded. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours,” Cortana replied firmly. “We’re in this together – remember?”
“Yeah,I remember,” the Spartan growled. “But you’re not the one with the bruises.”
The AI chose to remain silent as the Chief passed through a hatch, paused to see if anyone would attempt to cancel his ticket, and followed the nav indicator to the chamber located at the center of the room.
Once he was there the pulse generator was impossible to miss. It was so intensely white that his visor automatically darkened in order to protect his eyes. Not only that, but the Chief could feel the air crackle around him as he approached the delta-shaped guide structures, and prepared to step in between them. “I have to walk into that thing?” the Chief inquired doubtfully. “Isn’t there some easier way to commit suicide?”