HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship) (27 page)

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Authors: Mark Wayne McGinnis

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BOOK: HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship)
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“You can thank the chief for getting you here in time,” Jason said. “From what I understand, it was a close call.”

Perkins nodded. “I’m surprised the old coot knew how to operate one of these things. They’re a bit tricky. Don’t need to tell you that, huh, Dira?”

Perkins’ arms were moving now, fingers opening and closing. Jason and Dira exchanged quick glances.

“Hey, listen. There’s something we need to speak with you about,” Jason said, kneeling down again. “You said it yourself, these devices are tricky. And the truth is, they’re very tricky.”

Perkins wasn’t listening. All of his attention was focused forward. Holding up his two hands in front of his face, and the long, tapered fingers of a Caldurian. “Now that’s weird …”

 

* * *

 

The FDL connection was established as soon as Jason entered the bridge. Once situated in the command chair, one of the Gordon twins, Jason wasn’t sure which one it was, opened the channel. Admiral Reynolds, hair somewhat tussled, acknowledged his son with a brief smile.

“Good to see you made it back, Jason. I’m looking forward to hearing about it all. But that will have to wait. Earth is under attack. Right now I’m sitting in the shuttle you left behind. We phase-shifted to the second underground location. In fact, we’ve shuttled more than one hundred and fifty people down here.”

“I didn’t think there was enough space for that many people,” Jason said.

“Well, there is, and there’s something else. It’s inhabited.”

“Say again?”

“You heard me.”

“Fine. First tell me about the attack. Who’s attacking?”

“Three ships. Small—each about a quarter of the size of
The Lilly
,” the admiral said.

“That would be the Emperor’s Guard
.
From what I understand, those ships, like
The Lilly
, are actually Caldurian technology. The may be more advanced than
The Lilly
by as much as a hundred years. But make no mistake about it, it’s the Craing behind the wheel, not the Caldurians,” Jason said.

“Seems the ships are being selective about their targets. They’re not going after government seats of power, or even military instillations or assets,” the admiral remarked, looking confused.

“Maybe they’re looking for
The Lilly
.”

“I thought that too, but that doesn’t add up either. The ships are situated here in Earth’s outer orbit, where they’re scanning as deep as ten miles below the surface. Every so often one of the ships comes down to ground level and phase-shifts somewhere subterranean.”

“Still, they could be looking for
The Lilly
. But you’re right, that does sound strange. You said Earth was under attack, what have they attacked?” Jason asked.

“Anything that leaves the ground—commercial planes, helicopters, that sort of thing, as well as orbital satellites. They’re taking those out, one by one, any time they come close to their position in orbit. Needless to say, communications are a mess.”

“What about the Allied Craing fleet?” Jason asked.

“Three battle cruisers and one light cruiser in high orbit were destroyed before anything else. The ones on the ground have been left alone. Strange.”

“What does Washington have to say?” Jason asked.

“Well, they wanted to deploy the rest of the Craing Allied fleet until one, they saw how quickly the four in orbit went down, and two, they discovered we don’t have trained pilots for them anyway. They’re waiting to see what demands are coming; so far there haven’t been any. They’ve been checking in on an hourly basis about
The Lilly
’s whereabouts. As far as they’re concerned, she may be the planet’s only hope of defeating those ships.”

Jason noticed Ricket standing at his side and looking at the display, his little wheels turning,
literally
.

The admiral continued, “What’s the status of the Loop? How did it go on the Craing worlds?”

“Loop’s destroyed. And, subsequently, there appears to be an uprising, so I don’t think we’ll need to worry about the Craing bothering us again. At least not for the near term, other than the three Emperor’s Guard vessels there in orbit.”

“We need you back here now, Jason. I can’t emphasize enough what’s at stake. Perhaps planet Earth itself. What’s your ETA?” the admiral asked, looking impatient.

“Tomorrow afternoon at the latest. We’ll see if we can come up with a plan of attack en route,” Jason replied, looking over at Ricket.

Ricket took a step forward. “Admiral, those Caldurian ships. They were built for battle, whereas
The Lilly
was primarily built as a natural sciences and exploration vessel.”

“I don’t know,
The Lilly
seems pretty capable to me,” the admiral replied.

“From what I’ve discovered, as hostilities between Caldurian and the Craing worlds grew hundreds of years ago, defenses and weaponry were added as needed. How
The Lilly
compares now, I don’t know. Our only advantage may be the Craing’s unfamiliarity with these ships’ technology and capabilities,” Ricket said.

“Dad, we know we have to get back there as soon as possible.” Jason was still curious about something. “Before we sign off, who exactly is inhabiting the underground cavern?”

The admiral looked amused. “They are a skittish bunch and keep their distance. From what we’ve discovered, there are many more caverns down here, most much lower—maybe as deep as five miles. These subterranean caverns are interconnected throughout much of Texas and a good portion of Mexico.”

“And you’ve seen them?”

“Oh, yes, now that we know what to look for; they show up on the shuttle’s short and long range scans. There seem to be multiple tribes.”

“You’ve seen them? What do they look like?” Jason asked again.

“We’ve done some exploring. As I said, they’re skittish and typically move to deeper caverns whenever we approach. One time we caught several off-guard. Saw them up close before they ran off. Truth is, they look a little like Craing. But tall, like a human,” the admiral replied.

Chapter 32

 

Perkins insisted he was fit for duty, which would make Jason’s life easier. Double shifts, prolonged hours sitting in the command chair, had started taking their toll. Earlier, Jason had gathered the remaining crew together in the mess as a way to convey information and address any ship-wide issues. It was more apparent than ever how understaffed they currently were. Their skeleton crew was down-right anemic. Once they were back at the outpost, finding able-bodied applicants would be no problem. Serving aboard
The Lilly
was in high-demand. For now, Jason needed to bolster morale and reestablish discipline. Ship life had become lax and overly casual. He also needed to address the rumor mill.

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander Perkins is alive. Yes, he is fine and will return to duty shortly. And yes, he has undergone some minor physical changes. It’s temporary.”

The crew immediately started to speak amongst themselves in hushed murmurs.

“This is not for open discussion, people,” Jason said, reprimanding them again for their lax conduct. “When the XO returns to duty, you will not bring attention to his—” Jason had absolutely no idea how to talk about this. At the back of the room, Nan and Dira were standing together, both smirking. Jason continued, “When he returns to duty, just ignore his differences. Don’t gossip or talk behind his back—give him a break, OK?”

Chief Horris raised his hand.

“Chief?”

“Captain, what’s our destination? You know, now with the overlords dead.”

“There’s really no point in continuing on. We’re headed back to Earth. Anything else? Anyone? Then you’re dismissed.”

Now, Perkins stood at the entrance to the bridge. Jason turned in his seat and nodded to his XO. He looked fine, Jason thought. Apparently his garment replicator had no problem with his physical alterations.

 "I am ready to relieve you, sir," Lieutenant Commander Perkins said.

"I am ready to be relieved," Jason replied and relinquished the command chair.

 

* * *

Jason entered Orion’s domain. Other crewmembers on board also utilized the gym, but there was no mistaking that it was Orion who was in charge. A sectioned-off area of the forward hold, the gym was comprised of different sections one would find at any well-appointed facility, including aerobic, endurance, conditioning and strength-building. The similarities stopped there. Orion, from what Jason had gleaned since being on board, was a well-known sports figure on her home planet of Tarkin. He’d learned that on her planet the women were the larger, stronger of the sexes. The only similarity between females from Earth and Tarkin is they were both the bearer of offspring.

Orion’s acclaim as a sports figure came from the team sport of
Bend.
Two teams on an elevated field, of sorts, and something they call the
Lorm.
Jason had assumed the
Lorm
was equivalent to some kind of ball. Orion had scoffed at that. Turns out, the
Lorm
was a four-sided open square, with only metal struts connecting the sides together. Easy to grab, get your fingers around. That is, if you could heft it. At nearly three hundred pounds, only the strongest, most agile females competed at the national or international level. Few athletes competed beyond their twenty-fifth birthday. The toll on one’s body was cumulative, causing tendons and joints to wear down quickly. Jason found out Orion didn’t like talking about her life on Tarkin, but she did mention she had retired as some kind of superstar athlete and was undefeated.

Now, looking around the ship’s gym, Jason assumed that much of what was in evidence here was reflective of what Tarkin
Bend
athletes would have utilized for their training. The other sections of the gym, uniquely configured to Orion’s predisposition for weapons and self-defense, were the dojo, where he stood now, and the weapons practice range next door.

Nan and Mollie were on mats. Both wore a modified version of their spacer’s jumpsuits—but looser. Orion was wearing sweats and a snug tank top. Seeing her here, with her tattooed skin and enlarged musculature, Jason was confronted by her beauty, femininity, yet overt masculinity. Billy, a cigar-smoking, macho SEAL, having such attraction to Orion, reminded Jason that there was someone special for everyone and, if nothing else, Billy and Orion were the most quintessential power couple.

Orion was talking in low tones to her two students. Another woman entered the gym. Like Orion, she wore sweats and a tight-tank top as well. Dira rushed over and joined Nan and Mollie on the mats, both greeting her with excited smiles.

Orion looked over at Jason and gestured for him to come closer. He removed his shoes and stepped onto a mat.

“Thank you for coming, Captain,” Orion said.

“My pleasure, but I’m not real sure why I’m here.”

“I just want you to be clear on what I’ll be teaching these three. I have a rough idea from what Nan has told me, as well as Dira, but I’d like your input, too, especially from a Navy SEAL standpoint.”

“As both Nan and Dira, and even Mollie, have discovered, life in space can be dangerous: Craing mutants, rhino warriors, Serapin-Terplins, man-sized insects, pirate raiders … there’s no one size that’ll fit all combatants when it comes to self-defense. Weapons training will be just as important as hand-to-hand drill, what we call close quarters combat training. Being able to think strategically, intuitively and even in new or abstract ways, may save their lives. So I’d concentrate on those areas, as well. Does that help?” Jason asked.

“Yes, sir. I think I have the perfect training regimen for them.”

“Good. Don’t go easy on them.”

“Little chance of that, sir,” Orion said with a smile.

Jason noticed all three students were watching him. They were excited, having fun. If Orion did her job right, they wouldn’t feel that way in an hour or so. Jason was hailed.

“Go for Captain.”

“Cap, we had changed course back to Earth, were about to transition FDL, when we detected an anomaly. Showed up on our long-range sensors.”

“What do you have, McBride?”

“A fluctuating wormhole. It’s there one second, gone the next. It’s as if it’s in transition.”

“Just stay clear of it. We’ve got bigger issues to contend with, Ensign,” Jason said.

“That’s just it, sir. There’s a ship at its mouth and the fluctuation is changing—becoming more stable. We estimate the wormhole will stabilize enough in the next hour for the ship to pass through.”

“And you have determined it’s a Craing vessel?” Jason asked.

“Definitely, Cap. It’s a Dreadnaught-class warship.”

“I’m on my way. Hail Ricket.”

 

* * *

“Captain on deck” was announced as Jason entered the bridge. Ricket was already there. Perkins relinquished the command chair and stood at his side.

“How are you doing, XO—with everything?”

“Fine, sir. To be honest, I barely notice the difference. Although it does seem to cause a bit of uneasiness with the crew. Sir, as I mention on comms, we have something of an anomaly occurring.”

“Captain, the wormhole fluctuations are down to four-minute intervals. We’ve noticed the ship consistently moving forward—it should breech the mouth during the next fluctuation,” McBride said at the helm.

All eyes were on the display. There was nothing but open space, countless stars.

“Here it comes again, Captain,” McBride said.

A section of space seemed to move in and out of focus. The contours of the wormhole were fluctuating rapidly. A massive shape, blurry at first, then came more in focus. As if breaking free from a gravitational pull, the ship shot forward then stopped.

“That’s not a Craing Dreadnaught,” Jason exclaimed.

Jason was more than a little familiar with Craing Dreadnaught vessels. He’d recently fought against one on the outskirts of the solar system. Propulsion systems destroyed, along with most of her weapons, the remaining remnants of that ship were now in high-orbit around the moon—a space station, of sorts, used for their fleet of Allied Craing vessels. But this ship was nothing like that. In contrast to the boxy, angular shape they were used to, this vessel was rounded and was comprised of multiple nearly-transparent rotating spheres.

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