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"How many ships," he asked Cortana, "are we looking at?"
"Two hundred forty-seven warships," she replied. "Estima?tion of the total population based on the sampling from your lim?ited field of vision puts that total number at more than five hundred Covenant warships."
For the first time the Chief froze; his gauntlets locked onto the
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edge of the hatch, and his arms failed to respond. Five hundred ships? There was more firepower here than he had ever seen be?fore. This fleet would easily overwhelm any UNSC defensive force—whether or not the Admiral got through with his warn?ing. Their opening salvo would be a tidal wave of plasma, and it would obliterate Earth's orbital fortresses before they could fire a shot.
A thousand kilometers below, space rippled, parted, and seven more cruisers appeared in normal space. They maneuvered to join the rest of the pack.
John realized he had seen this magnitude of destructive power: Halo. The ring was a weapon designed to kill all sentient life for dozens of light-years in every direction.
And he had stopped that threat. He could stop this one, too. He had to.
His plan called for the infiltration and destruction of their command-and-control station. But how would that stop this gathering offeree? It wouldn't... but it might buy Earth enough time to come up with a plan to counter this seemingly invincible armada.
"You said they've pinged us three times?" John asked Cortana.
"Affirmative. They've been curious about our status, but not as much as you might expect. There's a tremendous amount of COM traffic. They're probably only interested in us as a naviga?tion hazard."
"Send a signal and explain that our engines are crippled and we'll need assistance to move. Let's see if we can get them to take us to this central station for repairs."
"Sending message now."
The Master Chief piped what he was seeing to Blue Team. "Time to wake up," he said. "Armor and weapons check on the double."
There was a pause of several seconds before Blue Team's ac?knowledgment lights pulsed in his HUD. He knew they were having the same reaction of fear, and then drawing the same con?clusion as he had about their mission. They couldn't fail: The fate of humanity lay in their hands.
John angled his head around to take a look at the dropship.
The majority of the dropship's hull had peeled away, and lead
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and titanium plates underneath showed through. Without their reinforcements, the craft would have disintegrated on the rough ride through Slipspace.
"Covenant C & C responding to our request," the copied Cor-tana informed him. "Ferry en route to take us in for repairs. They were a little confused about which warship we belong to, but I simulated static to cover our ship's registration ID. They're too busy to take too close a look at us."
The Master Chief returned inside the dropship. "We're get?ting towed," he told Blue Team.
Linda came up to him and made a circle in the air with her in?dex finger. John nodded and turned around so she could visually inspect his MJOLNIR suit. Computer diagnostics were fine, but his Spartans didn't take any chances with their armor. Especially not in an evacuated environment.