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ERIC NYLUND
229
"They'll get off the first salvo, sir," Lieutenant Haverson said.
Although his voice was calm, a drop of sweat trickled down his
freckled cheek.
"I hope they do," the Admiral replied. "It may be the only
thing that saves us."
Lieutenant Haverson took a deep breath, nodding. "Weapons
standing by, sir."
"Cortana, make ready to vent the Gettysburg's launch bay."
"Aye, sir. Overriding bay door safeties. Distance to target
three thousand kilometers."
The Covenant cruiser fired. Lances of energy launched and
veered toward Ascendant Justice ... and arced away in cork-
screw spirals and right angles. The space between the two large
masses was still tangled and fractured.
"Two thousand kilometers," Cortana reported.
"Stay on course," the Admiral said. "And continue to hold
fire."
Lieutenant Haverson's jaw clenched, and his hands trembled
over the controls.
The enemy cruiser filled the displays. Its plasma turrets re-
cycled and glowed a dull red.
"One thousand kilometers," Cortana announced.
"Admiral?" Lieutenant Haverson asked.
"Hold your fire."
"Five hundred kilometers," Cortana said. "Three hundred...
two... collision imminent."
The Admiral's fist clenched. He barked, "Fire! All turrets, fire!
Cortana, depressurize the launch bay and give us full power to
port."
Ascendant Justice was a kilometer from the Covenant ship on
an intercept course when it fired. The Gettysburg's launch bay
doors opened and the air inside explosively decompressed—
propelling the conjoined ships to port—just enough to miss the
cruiser.
Plasma rocketed toward their target. There was no way to miss.
White-hot fire impacted on the cruiser's hull, splashed across its
surface, boiled off the armored skin, and corroded the skeletal
framework underneath.
"Aft cameras," the Admiral ordered.