Halo: Gauntlet

Chapter 17

Meanwhile, out in space, the UNSC fleet remained huddled in a defensive position just beyond the ring. Despite the frequent conflicts on the ground, there had been few naval battles between the Covenant and humans. Both sides were at a seeming standoff, keeping their distance in anticipation of the other side's eventual attack. Captain Taylor was standing in an elevator on the Houston, traveling deep into the depths of his ship. The elevator stopped, making a delicate ding sound before sliding the doors open to reveal the cramped, dirty engine floor within the belly of the frigate. Taylor could instantly smell the oil and the grease in the air as he walked through the room, stepping past engineers yelling at each other and spark-spewing welding tools. He grabbed the attention of one of the engineers.

"Where's the chief?" he shouted over all the commotion.

"I don't know, check the office!" the engineer replied. Taylor let him go back to his work, stepping through a maze of pipes before spotting a few dinky, lit-up windows in the back of the room. He made his way over, knocking on the door once. There was no response. He knocked on it again, this time harder.

"Alright, I'm coming! Jesus, what the hell-" the door opened to reveal a scruffy, stout man in mechanic wear and a UNSC patch on his arm. "Captain!" He quickly entered a salute. "Good to see ya. What brings you down here to the pits?"

He peered into the room, observing the dirt caking the walls and a dinky mini-fridge loaded with beer. "Just getting a look at things. Seeing how repairs are going. You care to show me what we've got?"

"Yeah, yeah, gimme a sec." The chief engineer closed the door and took a swig from a bottle he had on his desk before coming out with a helmet on his head. He guided Taylor further into the engine floor, which had opened up into an actual hall lined with pipes and tubes. Sweat dripped down Taylor's cheek as the heat began to hit him.

"I honestly don't know why you keep doing this yourself. Get one of your rookies to do it and tell 'em to write a report."

Taylor shook his head. "I hate reading reports. Besides, it's my ship. It's good to know what every inch of it looks like."

A pipe burst right in front of him, spewing steam in his face and knocking him back a bit. The chief engineer laughed. Taylor regained his footing and straightened his shirt, embarrassed.

"Right. Okay, as you can see, we've been pretty busy. The fuselage is almost repaired, but I'm gonna be honest, it's a patch job. We've got air leaks and weak spots all over the starboard side, and most of the guns are nonfunctional. I've had guys go at it for the past forty-eight hours, but it's not looking great."

They sidestepped someone lying underneath a panel, screwing something back in that had fallen out.

"What about our engines?"

The chief raised his eyebrows. "Surprisingly hearty. Our main drives are breathing great, same with the auxiliaries. Where I'm concerned is the slipspace drive."

Taylor rolled his tongue around in his mouth and his expression turned stern. "Show me."