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This was the standard Covenant tactical thinking. Recent events, however, had shaken what Voro had considered "standard" behavior. This would be a gamble, but in Voro's estimation, their only winning option.
"Now," Voro spat. "Fire!"
The overcharged energy projector sent a shudder through the Incorruptible.
All their power—shields, engines, Slipspace capacitor reserves—channeled into a single burst from the projector.
The darkness of interstellar space parted.
The shields of the Revenant boiled and popped. The hull peeled away, bubbling, as the beam penetrated through and
through. The frigate was cut in half diagonally, ventral fore to dorsal aft—until it severed the starboard plasma line. Fire blazed along her surface and reached the main coils. The ship's aft section detonated and her mid and fore sections tumbled away aflame and spewing smoke.
"All weapons systems inactive," Uruo reported, as he stared at the destruction.
"No power to maneuver," Zasses said nervously. "Thrusters on standby."
The other Jiralhanae frigate veered away and continued to turn, presenting the flare of engine cones as it ran. After seeing the obliteration of its sister ship, the Twilight Compunction had no desire to face them alone.
As Voro had hoped: The Jiralhanae were quick to act without thinking. They were savage, yes, but not suicidal.
He counted his blessings that the Jiralhanae Ship Master had not taken the time to thoroughly scan the Incorruptible to assess her battle worthiness.
"Repairs underway," Y'gar announced. "All crews on task. Estimate seventy cycles until plasma lines ready."
"Direct repairs to the coils and Slipspace capacitors," Voro ordered.
"A brilliant tactical maneuver, sir," Zasses said, and bowed his head.
Voro grunted.
Brilliant? Desperate was closer to the truth. But Voro would never voice his feelings on this matter before his crew. Unvoiced, however, a mixture of shame and disgust rose in the back of his throat. He had risked everything to win. Perhaps this was how Tano felt? The lives of his brothers in his hands on every mission? Voro felt unworthy to lead.
He scrutinized the central viewer. The Jiralhanae frigate had headed toward the third ship in its battle group, the one that had turned to engage Bloodied Spirit.
They had intercepted the enemy's transmissions and seen the humans manning Bloodied Spirit. A disturbing revelation.
"Zasses," Voro growled. "You tracked the Spirit as it jumped?"
"Yes, sir," he replied, and rechecked his console. "Only one stellar system on that vector."
Voro gritted his teeth and flexed his hands. Then at least Bloodied Spirit could be hunted and destroyed. "Make ready to jump. We must warn our brethren… of everything."
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← ^ → CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
1520 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ CAPTURED COVENANT DESTROYER BLOODIED SPIRIT, IN SLIPSTREAM SPACE
Bloodied Spirit was on fire. The shot she'd taken from the Covenant frigate had hit an auxiliary plasma line, and fire streamed along the side in a crimson plume.