第71页
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SEVENTEEN
1000 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, NEAR PLANET ONYX \ ABOARD DECOMMISSIONED UNSC CHIROPTERA-CLASS VESSEL (ILLEGAL REGISTRY) BEATRICE
Dr. Halsey examined the multiple contacts on the passive radar screen. They reminded her of an angry swarm of wasps.
"Three hundred," she murmured.
"Three hundred twelve," Jerrod corrected.
Dr. Halsey tapped her lower lip with her thumb, thinking. "We can't fight."
Kelly snapped her head from the radar display to Dr. Halsey "We have to try." She looked around the bridge. "Weapons station?"
"Jerrod," Dr. Halsey said, "show all data on that anomalous planet."
"Dr. Halsey," Kelly insisted. "Weapons?"
"This ship has no weapons," she replied.
Kelly moved from station to station, not accepting this. As a Spartan she had a lifetime of training that demanded she take action, fire a weapon, confront her enemies; she was not trained to sit and watch.
On the NAV screen a blue-green cloud-swirled planet appeared as well as data on its orbit and an atmosphere spectroscopic breakdown.
"That's our target," Dr. Halsey said. "Earth-like gravity and atmosphere. Infrared suggests vegetation. An uninhabited
habitable planet so close to UNSC space? An improbability… or more likely, one very well-kept secret."
She tapped the display. The planet shrank and a silvery ice-ball moon drifted at two o'clock. The relative position of the Beatrice appeared—as well as the fleet of intercepting ships between them and the planet.
"What can I do?" Kelly said.
"Strap in and stand by," Dr. Halsey said. "I'll need you in three minutes."
"Aye, ma'am." Kelly pulled herself into the first mate's chair, slipped into the harness, and cinched it tight.
"Engine parameters on this screen," Dr. Halsey said, and tapped the display on her left. Thermodynamic Legendre-transformation diagrams of the plasma coils flashed online. "Good thing we retained the Slipspace transition energy."
"Yes, Doctor," Jerrod replied. His holographic dot of light dimmed as if embarrassed. "Unidentified craft closing. Ninety thousand kilometers. Acceleration increasing."
She strapped into the captain's chair. "Come to course forty-five by forty-five."
"Aye aye," Jerrod said. The Beatrice tilted and the engines sputtered with the alignment burn. "Course corrected."
Dr. Halsey studied the plasma coils. While the rest of the ship was an antique, the coils were almost new, stolen, it appeared, from a Behemoth-class tug. It appeared Governor )iles was only half the fool she had believed.
"Initiate one hundred twenty percent oversurge in the pre-coil," Dr. Halsey told Jerrod.
Kelly fidgeted; her gauntlets clenched into fists.
"We cannot fight," Dr. Halsey explained to her. "Nor am I a tenth the astronavigator that Captain Keyes was."
"Oversurge in three seconds," Jerrod announced.
"Which only leaves us one option: run like hell."