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ERIC NYLUND
329
hull was breached in a dozen places, its skeletal frame exposed,
and only a handful of plasma conduits flickered with life.
"I don't understand," the Chief said. He stepped closer to
Cortana's hologram. Being near the real Cortana—not one of
her fragmented copies—reassured him that everything was un-
der control. "What's going on?"
"Stand by, Chief," she replied. "I'm attempting to attune As-
cendant Justice's Slipspace drive to the Gettysburg's mass and
profile."
"That's what we were up to while you were off sight-seeing,"
the Sergeant told him. "We pulled the Slipspace matrix out of
our piggybacked ship and slapped it into the Gettysburg."
John wheeled and faced the viewscreens. Ascendant Justice
couldn't jump? Then why was it headed straight toward the
Covenant fleet? A decoy? He glanced at the countdown timer:
2:09 left.
"Not a decoy," he whispered,"... a lure. Sergeant, get a signal
to Ascendant Justice. Bounce it off that spy drone if you
have to."
"Roger, Chief," Sergeant Johnson said and tapped in com-
mands. An error warning blared. He shook his head, puzzled,
and tried again, carefully retyping.
"Linda, take the NAV station. Fred, you're on Ops. Will, give
the Sergeant a hand at Weapons One."
Blue Team jumped to their assigned stations.
Will edged the Sergeant aside and quickly tapped three but-
tons. "COM patch established," he reported. "On viewscreen
two."
The bridge of Ascendant Justice appeared on screen. Lieu-
tenant Haverson and Admiral Whitcomb stood on the central
raised dais, adjusting the holographic controls. Behind them, the
wall displays showed Covenant ships closing on their position.
Admiral Whitcomb smiled. "Glad to see you made it safely
aboard, son."
"Sir, that fleet will destroy you before you can fire a single
salvo."
"I don't think so, Master Chief," he replied and tapped the
holographic display. A slim blue crystalline shard appeared—
an exact copy of the alien artifact they found on Reach. "I'm