第161页

　　"Understood,  Admiral."  One  of  Jiles's  eyebrows  gracefully  arched,  and  he  bowed.  "Thank  you."
　　"Fred,  move  us  at  best  speed.  Haverson,  come  to  course  zero-nine-zero.  Get  us  closer  to  that  moon-sized  chuck  of  stone,  twenty  thousand  kilometers  to  port."
　　"Flank  speed,"  Fred  said.  "Aye,  sir."
　　"Course  change,  aye,"  Haverson  replied.
　　The  Gettysburg-Ascendant  Justice  glided  toward  the  large  rock,  and  the  Covenant  cruiser  rapidly  closed  on  them.  The  enemy  ship  vanished  on  the  displays  as  they  rounded  to  the  dark  side  of  the  asteroid.
　　"New  course.  Come  about  to  one-eight-zero,"  the  Admiral  or?dered.  "Full  emergency  power  to  the  engines  and  answer  all  stop."
　　Thrasters  spun  the  ship  around,  and  vibrations  rumbled  through  the  weakened  hull  as  it  slowed  and  came  to  a  stop,  hidden  behind  the  rock.
　　"Answering  all  stop,"  Fred  announced.
　　"Sir,  we  are  dead  in  space,"  Lieutenant  Haverson  said  and  nervously  ran  his  fingers  through  his  slicked-back  red  hair.  "Tra?ditional  tactics  advocate  speed  and  maneuverability  in  ship-to-ship  combat."
　　"Not  in  this  asteroid  field,"  Admiral  Whitcomb  replied.  "But  you  make  a  good  point  about  staying  maneuverable.  Align  our  nose  toward  the  center  of  mass  of  the  planetoid,  and  back  us  up,  one  half  reverse.  Keep  us  out  of  the  enemy's  gunsights  as  long  as  you  can."
　　"Firing  ministers.  Answering  one  half  reverse,"  Fred  said.
　　264 HALO:  FIRST  STRIKE
　　The  ship  slowly  angled  toward  the  center  of  the  large  asteroid  and  backed  away.
　　"Cortana?"  the  Admiral  asked.  "Do  we  have  a  weapons  turret  or  not?"
　　"Yes,  sir,"  Cortana  said,  "but  the  turret's  magnetic  coils  that  shape  and  aim  the  plasma  charge  have  overloaded."
　　The  Admiral  inhaled  and  sighed  explosively.  "Master  Chief,  you  got  anything  on  Weapons  Station  One?"
　　"Archer  missile  pods  depleted,"  the  Master  Chief  answered.  He  scanned  the  display,  hoping  he  had  missed  something.  "No  rounds  for  the  MAC  gun.  All  Shiva  nuclear  missiles  fired  as  well,  sir.  The  only  things  left  in  the  tubes  are  three  Clarion  spy  drones."
　　"No  plasma  and  no  missiles,"  Admiral  Whitcomb  said.  "We  might  as  well  open  an  air  lock  and  throw  rocks  at  'em."
　　Throw  rocks?  The  Master  Chief  wondered  if  they  could  fash?ion  a  slug  to  shoot  from  the  MAC  cannon.  Let  its  magnetic  coils  propel  the  mass  to  supersonic  velocities  and—
　　Magnetic  coils?
　　"Sir,"  the  Master  Chief  said.  "We  may  have  a  way  to  fire  the  plasma  turret  after  all.  The  Gettysburg's  MAC  gun  has  seventeen  superconducting  coils.  Cortana  might  be  able  to  use  them  to  shape  and  aim  the  plasma."
　　"Yes,"  the  Admiral  said,  nodding.
　　"Maybe,"  Cortana  amended  and  stared  off  into  space,  think?ing.  "Calculating  field  strength  drop-off  now."  The  mathematic  symbols  scrolling  across  her  body  increased  threefold.  She  frowned.  "This  would  be  easier  if  the  Gettysburg  was  oriented  bottom  to  Ascendant  Justice's  top.  I'll  have  to  guess  at  the  inter?ference  from  the  intervening  hulls,  but  it  still  might  work.  Chief—power  it  up.  I'll  need  to  recalibrate  the  pulse  generation  to  match  the  plasma  output."