Halo_ First Strike - Eric S. Nylund [99]
Ascendant Justice was in the center of a sea of fire ... and it was being battered apart.
Thunder ripped through Ascendant Justice's hull; a geyser of flames shot out the passageway to the bridge. The air jumped and hissed as it escaped the pressurized chamber.
The bulkhead door slammed shut, and the air stilled.
Sergeant Johnson shook his head clear from the sudden drop in pressure. "Let's drop out of this mixed-up Slipspace and start fighting."
"Yeah, or just get rid of that crystal," Locklear said. "If it's the cause of all this mess." He drew his pistol. "One round and boom! Problem solved."
"Don't do that!" Dr. Halsey snapped. "A drop back to normal space has us facing a dozen or more cruisers. And if you destroy the crystal, the expanded Slipspace bubble we're in would instantly collapse. Every separate mass in the bubble will compact into a single mass. We wouldn't survive the transition."
Worry creased Admiral Whitcomb's features. "That leaves just one option. Cortana, give me flank speed and heat up every weapon we have. We're going to run right over these Covenant ships. Tangled space or not, we're going to blast them right back to normal space from point-blank range."
"Yes, Admiral," Cortana said. "Engines answering flank speed."
A dull thump echoed from the aft section.
"Stand by," Cortana said. "There's a problem with the primary engines—a power drop occurred just as I engaged."
On the bridge displays the external cameras turned and focused on the aft hull of Ascendant Justice. A snakelike plasma conduit came into focus. Cortana adjusted the image, and a three-meterwide hole in the conduit snapped into view. Streamers of blue-white gas vented from the breach.
"That's our main drive conduit," Cortana said. "It's taken a hit. I'm shutting down engines to conserve power."
The Master Chief squinted. "That was no plasma hit," he muttered. "It was too precise and too inconvenient—this had to be sabotage."
Admiral Whitcomb scowled. "Chief, take your team and prepare for a zero-gee repair of the plasma conduit."
"Yes, sir."
Polaski stepped forward. "I'll go too, sir," she said. Locklear grasped her by the arm and tried to pull her back, but she shrugged his hand off. "I can pilot the dropship—get the Spartan team in and out faster."
The Admiral narrowed his eyes, assessing the young woman. "Very well, Warrant Officer." He added so softly that the Chief almost missed it: "Too many damned heroes in this war."
Polaski turned to Locklear, handed him back his bandanna, and whispered, "Hang on to that for me, Corporal. I'll pick it up when I get back."
Locklear's hand clenched, then relaxed. He took the token, nodded, and looked away. "I'll be here," he said and tied it around his arm.
"Chief," Admiral Whitcomb said. "Make sure you come back alive. That's an order, son."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TIME:DATE RECORD [[ERROR]]ANOMALY\Date unknown \ Captured Covenant dropship near flagship Ascendant Justice, in anomalous Slipspace bubble.
The faintly blue luminous walls of the Covenant dropship pressed in, which made John feel slightly claustrophobic. It was ironic when he stopped to think about it, because he was always inside his skintight armor. His fellow Spartans sat in the bay beside him, motionless.
Fred, designated Blue-Two on this mission, was John's second in command. He had fought in more than 120 campaigns, was a great leader and a quick thinker. Sometimes he took the responsibility of his command too seriously, though, empathizing too deeply with any wounded member of his team.
Li, Blue-Three, was the team's zero-gee combat specialist. He had trained extensively with microgravity equipment and martial arts at the UNSC's extreme-conditions facility on Chiron in orbit about Mars. He was as much at home in free fall as the rest of them were on solid