Filter
Top Products
ERIC NYLUND
223
"Incoming!" Polaski cried over the COM.
John turned to the dropship and saw a third plasma projectile
materialize from the folds of tangled Slipspace. This one skimmed
a mere three meters over the hull—straight toward them.
Will dived into the crux where the dropship met the hull. Fred
and Grace hit the deck. Li stood his ground and fired at the
Elites, muzzle flash reflected in his helmet's faceplate. Anton
rose from his limited cover on top of the dropship, but instinc-
tively ducked again as an Elite took a shot at him. John crouched,
jumped, and propelled himself into the sheltered area between
the dropship's mandibles.
The plasma blasted over the dropship like a tidal wave of fire.
Polaski screamed, and her channel went silent.
Blue-white light filled John's vision, and electrical discharges
jolted his flesh and buzzed through his muscles and ligaments.
Temperature warnings blared. Boiling hydrostatic gel vented
through his MJOLNIR armor's emergency ducts.
Through blurry eyes, John saw the Covenant Elites flash va-
porize. Downship, Ascendant Justice's hull heated to a glowing
yellow and softened.
Then the light and heat vanished, and the torrent of fire trailed
aft like the tail of a comet.
John craned his neck up, every muscle in his body screaming
in pain. There was no trace of Li or Anton. The dropship's hull
was melted and distorted like a wax candle caught in a blow-
torch's blast.
The cockpit and Polaski were gone.
His biosign warning blared. Will, Grace, and Fred lay next to
him—dead or unconscious, he couldn't tell. He quickly attached
their tethers to the deck, then clipped his own in place.
John keyed the COM. "Admiral, conduit breach is sealed, sir."
"Hang on, son," Admiral Whitcomb replied. "This might be a
rough ride."
John slumped to the deck unconscious.