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Under such a destructive salvo of combined fire, the smaller ships burned—leaving only debris and skeletal frames.
"Do not close with the targets," Voro said over FLEETCOM. "Or the disease will spread." His hands grasped the command console.
To the Lekgolo pair Voro whispered, "Sweep the ship, continuous patrol, until I order otherwise. Report any hull breach no matter how slight. Any deaths. Anything that might be Flood infection."
The Xida Lekgolos nodded and they lumbered off the bridge, hands flexing in anticipation.
"Uruo," Voro said, "ready the self-destruct sequence. We must be prepared."
Uruo nodded, his maw working nervously, but he set plasma coils to detonation mode. "All ready," he replied.
"One of the destroyers near the ring is hailing the fleet," Y'a-gar said. "Rapturous Arc."
Static crackled and over that a whisper; "This is Ship Master of the Rapturous Arc. We are overwhelmed. Do not allow them to make us their instruments. I will not—"
The signal terminated.
The Rapturous Arc moved, wheeled toward the stars, and then continued to turn toward the other three destroyers abeam of Halo. It touched one of its brother ships, energy shields shimmered, frequencies matched, and the Flood-infected ship released a swarm of bulbous carrier forms.
Over FLEETCOM Voro said, "Retarget. Burn those ships."
Voro then ordered Uruo, "Heat lines and target projector."
"Targeting solutions ready," Uruo announced.
Voro could take no chance. "Fire," he said.
Plasma and energy projectors fired from a dozen nearby ships and painted the two vessels. The destroyers' shields collapsed—decks mushroomed outward from the aft engine compartments—a wave of illumination that flared white, and then cooled to smoky afterimages.
"New targets," he told Uruo, indicating the other two destroyers near the ring. "Coordinate targeting solutions throughout the fleet.
Uruo hesitated only a moment, and then nodded. "Locked and ready. Targeting solutions sent, sir."
Those last two ships had been too close to their infected counterparts. There was no margin for error here. Not even a single Flood-infected cell could escape.
"Sir," Y'gar said, and stood straighter, "targeted destroyers have dissipated their shields."
Voro nodded, nearly overcome with the nobility of his brother Ship Masters.
"Send the order fleetwide," he whispered. "Fire all lines and lasers. Discharge projectors."
Plasma lines heated, detached, and swarmed off the hull of the Incorruptible and the Second Fleet. Energy projectors fired and peeled off the ships' armor in a flash. Lasers peppered their boiling hulls, and air vented, sending it into a tumble. Plasma bolts impacted, squirting through the holes, and igniting the vessels.
"Another round," Voro commanded. "Burn them to ashes."
More plasma impacted and the doomed vessels spun toward the Halo structure, captured by its gravity. It would be their pyre.
"Back the Incorruptible off," Voro ordered. "Thirty thousand kilometers."