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232
HALO: FIRST STRIKE
The carrier's hull breached along a dozen rents, and atmosphere
vented and fanned the red-hot metal into gold flames. The
launch bays chained with explosions.
"Fire all weapons, Lieutenant!"
Ascendant Justice fired its remaining turrets. Plasma cut into
the carrier and sliced it to the core. Every deck flashed with fire
and became an inferno.
"That's the best we can do," Admiral Whitcomb whispered.
"Cortana, get us out of here. Transition to normal space."
Cortana's holographic silhouette blackened with swarming
calculations. "Engaging Slipspace matrix."
Blotches of inky black welled within the sea of fire. Tiny stars
winked on within those pools of darkness. The plasma-charged
atmosphere faded, and the enemy ships ablaze vanished.
"Cut all power to the engines," the Admiral ordered.
Admiral Whitcomb gazed at the blackness and stars. "Now,
where the hell are we?"