John turned and grabbed her arm. “Come on, Spartan. Don’t look back.”

The truth was, it was John who didn’t dare look back. If he had, he would have stayed with Sam. Better to die with a friend than leave him behind. But as much as he wanted to fight and die alongside his friend, he had to set an example for the rest of the Spartans—and live to fight another day.

John and Kelly pushed the pressure doors shut behind them.

“Good-bye,” he whispered.

The countdown timer ticked the seconds off inexorably.

2:35...

They ran down the corridor, popped the seal on the outer door—the atmosphere vented.

1:05...

They climbed up through the twisted metal canyon that the MAC round had torn through the hull.

0:33...

“There,” John said, and pointed to the base of a charged pulse laser. They crawled toward it, waited as the glow built to a lethal charge.

0:12...

They crouched and held onto one another.

The laser fired.

The heat blistered John’s back. They pushed off with all their strength, multiplied through the MJOLNIR armor.

0:00.

The shield parted and they cleared the ship, hurtling into the blackness.

The Covenant ship shuddered. Flashes of red appeared inside the hole—then a gout of fire rose and ballooned, but curled downward as it hit and rebounded off their own shield. The plasma spread along the length of their vessel. The shield shimmered and rippled silver—holding the destructive force inside.

Metal glowed and melted. The pulse laser turrets absorbed into the hull. The hull blistered, bubbled, and boiled.

The shield finally gave—the ship exploded.

Kelly clung to John.

A thousand molten fragments hurled past them, cooling from white to orange to red and then disappearing into the dark of the night.

Sam’s death had shown them that the Covenant were not invincible. They could be beaten. At a high cost, however.

John finally understood what the Chief had meant—the difference between a life wasted and a life spent.

John also knew that humanity had a fighting chance... and he was ready to go to war.

0000 Hours, July 17, 2552 (Military Calendar)

UNSC Remote Scanning Outpost Archimedes, on the edge of the Sigma Octanus Star System

Ensign William Lovell scratched his head, yawned, and sat down at his duty station. The wraparound view screen warmed to his presence.

“Good morning, Ensign Lovell,” the computer said.

“Morning, sexy,” he said. It had been months since the Ensign had seen a real woman—the cold female voice of the computer was the closest thing he was getting to a date.

“Voiceprint match,” the computer confirmed. “Please enter password.”

He typed: ThereOncewasAgirl

The Ensign had never taken his duty too seriously. Maybe that’s why he only made it through his second year at the Academy. And maybe that’s why he had been on Archimedes station for the last year, stuck with third shift.

But that suited him fine.

“Please reenter password.”

He typed more carefully this time: ThereOnceWasAGirl.

After first contact with the Covenant, he had almost been conscripted straight out of school; instead, he had actually volunteered.

Admiral Cole had defeated the Covenant at Harvest in 2531. His victory was publicized on every vid and holo throughout the Inner and Outer Colonies and all the way to Earth.

That’s why Lovell didn’t try to dodge the enlistment officers. He had thought he’d watch a few battles from the bridge of a destroyer, fire a few missiles, rack up the victories, and be promoted to Captain within a year.

His excellent grades gave him instant admission to OCS on Luna.

There was one small detail, however, the UNSC propaganda machine had left out of their broadcasts: Cole had won only because he outnumbered the Covenant three to one... and even then, he had lost two-thirds of his fleet.

Ensign Lovell had served on the UNSC frigate Gorgon for four years. He had been promoted to First Lieutenant then busted down to Second Lieutenant and finally to Ensign for insubordination and gross incompetence. The only reason they hadn’t drummed him out of the service was that the USNC needed every man and woman they could get their hands on.

While on the Gorgon, he and the rest of Admiral Cole’s fleet had sped among the Outer Colonies chasing, and being chased by, the Covenant. After four years’ space duty, Lovell had seen a dozen worlds glassed... and billions murdered.

He had simply broken under the strain. He closed his eyes and remembered. No he hadn’t broken; he was just scared of dying like everyone else.

“Please keep your eyes open,” the computer told him. “Processing retinal scan.”

He had drifted from office work to low-priority assignments and finally landed here a year ago. By that time there were no more Outer Colonies. The Covenant had destroyed them all and were pressing inexorably inward, slowly taking the Inner Colonies. There had been a few isolated victories... but he knew it was only a matter of time before the aliens wiped the human race out of existence.

“Login complete,” the computer announced.

Ensign Lovell’s identity record was displayed on the monitor. In his Academy picture, he looked ten years younger: neatly trimmed jet-black hair, toothy grin, and sparkling green eyes. Today his hair was unkempt and the spark was long gone from his eyes.

“Please read General Order 098831A-1 before proceeding.”

The Ensign had memorized this stupid thing. But the computer would track his eye motions—make sure he read it anyway. He opened the file and it popped on-screen:

Ensign Lovell pressed ENTER.

The UNSC wasn’t taking any chances. And after everything he had seen, he didn’t blame them.

His scanning windows appeared on the view screen, full of spectroscopic tracers and radar—and lots of noise.

Archimedes station cycled three probes into and out of Slipstream space. Each probe sent out radar pings and analyzed the spectrum from radio to X rays, then reentered normal space and broadcast the data back to the station.