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CHAPTER SEVEN
1750 hours, September 22,2552 (Military Calendar) \ Aboard
unidentified Covenant flagship, uncharted system, Halo debris
field.
Plasma bolts impacted on the Longsword's hull and splashed
across the windshield. The packets of glowing energy sizzled
across the cockpit and etched cloudy, molten trails into the glass.
A legion of Grunts hunkered behind docked Seraph fighters
and fuel pods. Some darted in and out of cover and fired ghostly
green blobs of plasma at the Longsword.
"I got 'em," Polaski said and flipped a switch.
The Longsword's landing gear deployed and raised the craft a
meter off the floor. "Guns clear," Polaski announced. " 'Bye,
boys."
She brought up a targeting reticle and swept it around the bay.
A hail of 120mm rounds tore through the Grunts' cover. Fuel
pods and unshielded fighters detonated and sent metal frag-
ments and alien soldiers hurtling to the deck. The air exploded
into roiling flame, which billowed toward the ceiling and then
subsided. Pools of burning fuel and the charred bodies of Grunts
and Covenant Engineers littered the launch bay.
"Fire suppression system activating," Cortana said.
Jets of gray mist blew down from above. The fires intensified
for a moment, then guttered and went out.
"Is there atmosphere in the bay?" the Chief asked.
"Scanning," Cortana replied. "Traces of ash, some contami-
nation from the melted ship hulls, and a lot of smoke, but the air
in the bay is breathable, Chief."