第35页

　　"Really?"  Polaski  replied,  irritated.  "No  wonder  they  call  you  'smart'  AIs."  She  tugged  her  cap  lower  over  her  eyes.  "I'll  do  the  flying.  You  concentrate  on  getting  those  weapons  offline."
　　"They're  launching  fighters,"  Haverson  warned.  On  the  viewscreen  the  Covenant  flagship  now  filled  half  the  display,  and  six  Seraph  fighters  emerged  from  the  belly  of  the  massive  ship.  "I've  still  got  active  signals  from  twenty  of  the  Moray  mines.
　　56 HALO:  FIRST  STRIKE
　　Their  momentum  is  carrying  them  within  range.  Tracking  .  ..  locked  on  ...  maneuvering."  Tiny  puffs  of  fire  overlapped  the  teardrop-shaped  Seraph  fighters  as  they  exploded.  Haverson  laughed.  "Bull's-eye!"
　　"Forward  weapons  systems  and  shields  are  disabled,"  Cor-tana  said.
　　"The  doors  are  open,"  Polaski  murmured.  "We're  invited  in.  It'd  be  damn  impolite  to  say  no."
　　The  flagship  filled  the  display.
　　"Collision  imminent,"  Cortana  warned.
　　Sergeant  Johnson  got  to  his  feet.  The  Chief  knew  better  and  stayed  where  he  was  on  the  deck.  He  grabbed  on  to  the  Ser?geant's  leg.
　　Polaski  cut  the  engines  and  hit  the  maneuvering  thrusters.  The  Longsword  spun  180  degrees.  With  the  ship  now  pointed  back?ward,  she  pushed  the  throttle  to  maximum,  and  the  engines  thun?dered  in  full  overload.  The  hull  strained  against  the  sudden  reverse  deceleration.
　　The  Chief  hung  on  to  the  floor  with  one  hand;  with  the  other  he  held  on  to  the  Sergeant  and  kept  him  from  flying  across  the  ship.
　　Polaski  changed  the  viewscreen  to  a  spilt  view—fore  and  aft.  She  maneuvered  with  the  ship's  thrusters,  adjusting  their  ap?proach  to  the  launch  bay  opening.  Onscreen  the  small  opening  grew  larger  alarmingly  fast.  "Hang  on—hang  on!"
　　The  engines  whined  and  the  ship  slowed...  but  it  wasn't  go?ing  to  be  enough.
　　They  entered  the  launch  bay  at  three  hundred  meters  per  sec?ond.  Flames  from  the  Longsword's  engines  washed  over  Grunt  technicians  as  they  vainly  attempted  to  scramble  out  of  the  way.  Their  methane-filled  atmosphere  tanks  popped  like  firecrackers.
　　Polaski  cut  the  power.  The  ship  slammed  into  the  wall.
　　The  Master  Chief,  Sergeant  Johnson,  and  Locklear  crashed  into  the  pilot's  and  ops  seats  in  a  heap.
　　Grunts  approached  the  ship  with  plasma  pistols  drawn,  the  weapons  glowing  green  as  the  aliens  overcharged  them.  Cove?nant  Engineers  struggled  to  put  out  fires  and  repair  burst  conduits.
　　"Shield  reenergizing  in  place  over  the  launch  bay,"  Cortana
　　ERIC  NYLUND
　　57
　　announced.  "External  atmosphere  stabilizing.  Please  feel  free  to  get  up  and  move  around  the  cabin."
　　Locklear  scrambled  to  his  feet.  "Yeah!"  he  whooped.  The  young  Helljumper  yanked  his  MA5B's  charging  lever  and  racked  a  round  into  the  chamber.  "Let's  rock!"
　　"Good  work,  people,"  the  Chief  said,  standing.  He  readied  his  own  assault  rifle.  "But  that  was  just  the  easy  part."
　　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  siz?zled  across  the  cockpit  and  etched  cloudy,  molten  trails  into  the  glass.