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“Show me the fleet’s position and the relative location of the enemy, Ensign,” Keyes ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Lovell replied. His hands danced across the controls. A moment later, a system map snappedinto place on the main screen. Dozens of small triangular tactical markers showed Admiral Stanforth’sfleet massing between Sigma Octanus IV and its moon. It was a sound opening position. Fighting inorbit around Sigma Octanus IV would have trapped them in the gravity well—like fighting with yourback to a wall.
Keyes studied the display—and frowned. The Admiral had moved the fleet into a tightly packed gridformation. When the Covenant fired their plasma weapons at them, there would be no maneuvering
room.
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The Covenant was moving in-system quickly. Captain Keyes counted twenty radar signatures. He didn’tlike the odds.
“Receiving orders,” Lieutenant Dominique said. “Admiral Stanforth wants theIroquois at this locationASAP.”
On the map, a blue triangle pulsed on the corner of the grid formation.
“Ensign Lovell, get us there at best speed.”
“Aye, sir,” he replied.
Captain Keyes fought down a wave of embarrassment; theCradle stardock started to pull ahead oftheIroquois . It took up a position directly over the Admiral’s phalanx formation. The refit stationrotated, presenting its edge to the incoming Covenant fleet to show them the smallest target area.
“Rotating and reversing burn,” Ensign Lovell said. TheIroquois spun about and slowed. “Thrusters tostation keeping. We’re locked in position, sir.”
“Very good, Ensign. Lieutenant Hikowa, divert as much power as you need to get those MAC gunscharged.”
“Aye, sir,” Hikowa replied. “Capacitors charging at maximum rate.”
“Captain,” Lieutenant Dominique said. “We’re receiving an encrypted firing solution and countdowntimers from theLeviathan ’s AI.”
“Transfer that vector to Lieutenant Hikowa and show me on screen.”
A line appeared on the tactical map, connecting theIroquois to one of the incoming Covenant frigates.The firing timer appeared in the corner: twenty-three seconds.
“Now show me the entire fleet’s firing solutions, Lieutenant Dominique.”
A web of trajectories crossed the map with tiny countdown times next to each. Admiral Stanforth hadthe fleet exchanging fire with the Covenant like a line of Redcoats and colonial militia in theRevolutionary War—tactics that could best be described as bloody . . . or suicidal.
What the hell was the Admiral thinking? Keyes studied the displays, trying to divine a method to hiscommanding officer’s madness . . . then he understood. Risky, but—if it worked—brilliant.
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The fleet’s firing countdowns were roughly timed so that the shots would be staggered into two, maybethree, massive salvos. The first salvo would—hopefully—knock out the Covenant ships’ shields. Thefinal salvo was to be the knockout punch.
But it could only work once. After that, the UNSC fleet would be destroyed when the remainingCovenant ships returned fire. TheIroquois and the other ships were stationary targets. He appreciatedthat the Admiral couldn’t get too far from Sigma Octanus IV, but with zero momentum—and no room tomaneuver—there’d be no way to avoid those plasma bolts.