Glory for Sea and Space (Star Watch Book 4)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Chapter 55

  Fringe of the Dacci Star System

  150 feet below Endromoline’s surface

  The Jumelle

  __________________________

  Jason was still on the verge of toppling over. The pain was less now, his internal nanites kicking in, but he was in no condition to go up against Dasticon. He watched as Dasticon, with the wave of a hand, tossed more of his combatants against a bulkhead. They were out of his field of view, but he suspected it was Billy, Drom and possibly Jarial. Had he killed them all?

  Boomer was keeping Dasticon engaged. Every moment she kept him talking was another moment anyone still alive could keep breathing. The reality of their situation was dire. Their weapons were pretty much useless against him. His powers were remarkable. Knowing he wouldn’t, couldn’t, be defeated by conventional means got Jason’s mind working along different lines. He looked up, where Boomer and Dasticon still stood conversing. A last reprieve, before the Sachem, undoubtedly, would put an end to them. He couldn’t believe he was about to make this suggestion … he hailed Boomer and said only two words, “Soap bubble.”

  Jason saw her eyes momentarily flash toward him, annoyance furrowing her brow. But then she got it. The beginnings of a smile crossed her lips. He only wondered if she could pull it off.

  * * *

  Boomer closed her eyes while Dasticon was still speaking to her. She had no idea if she’d be able to do it. Her father’s two-word suggestion seemed totally ridiculous, preposterous, but it was all coming down to this—this thing that at the moment seemed like nothing more than a stupid party trick. But within seconds, moments, Dasticon was going to kill her and everyone else on board the ship. She needed to conjure up all her Kahill Callan training—her elevated powers of concentration—and that something extra she’d brought back from a multiverse realm. As she had done with Alice’s stick, she conjured up another bubble—one that was much larger.

  It didn’t work.

  When she opened her eyes again, Dasticon looked furious. “Do you really think you … pathetic little girl … can use powers—”

  His words were cut short mid-sentence. He was now, incredibly, encased within a huge, glimmering, rainbow-colored, soap bubble. Boomer looked down where her father stood and covered her smile with one hand.

  “Hey … don’t get cocky and lose concentration. Can you lift him up?”

  Boomer nodded. “I think so … wait.” She used her new—only somewhat practiced—mental capabilities to raise the multi-iridescent orb several feet up and off the catwalk. Dasticon, now looking about his confined surroundings, frantically screamed, his words going unheard. Using claw-like fingers, he tried to pierce the bubble’s inner membrane, but to no avail. Seeing him trapped like that, Boomer’s mind flashed back to a poor, desperate woman who, not so long ago, was in a similar situation before falling down to her death.

  “I have an idea. Can you send him down here?”

  Boomer said, “Dad, come on … I can barely keep him afloat!”

  “Well, just try.”

  Try she did, maneuvering the orb several inches at first and then two feet to the right. Once above the top edge of the catwalk, she brought the wobbling orb, along with an ever-frantic Dasticon within it, down … down … down.

  “Okay, hold up there, Boomer,” her father said. A foot off the ground, Dasticon leveled his gaze on her father. “I guess his god-like powers are useless in there,” he said, taking a step forward. “Son of a bitch doesn’t look so tough now.”

  “I don’t know how much longer I can hold that bubble, Dad. Whatever you’re going to do … get to it!” Boomer said, panting out loud.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement.

  First Billy, and then Mollie, who had returned from the corridor, were wobbly on their feet. Relieved to see them okay, she said, “Glad you’re alive … but don’t move!”

  Her father, taking a step backwards, urged, “Okay … follow me.”

  As he continued to walk backward, Boomer maneuvered the giant soap bubble to follow along with him. Boomer heard Mollie giggling, somewhere behind and below her.

  Her father then turned the corner at the end of the row. “You’re going to have to jump across … to the top of the container … near me, Boomer. Can you do that and still keep your concentration?”

  She nodded and did as told, nearly tripping and falling in the process. Keeping her eyes on Dasticon, she regained her footing and followed her father’s lead. Dasticon was now attempting to use his enhancement shield, but apparently it too was useless within the floating sphere. Keeping up, she jumped across, landing atop the container, where her father, below, had come to a stop.

  “Careful now, Boomer. Place the sphere right here in front of me.” He held up both palms to indicate the placement he wanted.

  “You know it’s not like I can move it around with perfect precision … it’s not like that.” Boomer, protesting, did her best to comply with what he’d asked. Dasticon, who seemed to have given up trying to escape, simply watched events unfold.

  * * *

  Jason nodded, “Good … perfect!” He sidestepped around the bubble, keeping his eyes steady on Dasticon. He stopped, one hundred and eighty degrees around on the other side.

  “What now?” Boomer asked.

  “Pop it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Pop it!”

  She did as told and, gritting her teeth, popped the bubble.

  Jason felt wet splattering on his face as Rom Dasticon fell, a foot or so, to the deck. Just before his feet hit the ground, Jason painfully thrust out a solid front kick, then another and another. The kicks caught the Sachem directly in his solar plexus and were enough to drive Dasticon staggering no less than five feet backward.

  Straightening up, Dasticon looked at Jason with a perplexed expression, then up at Boomer, who was watching him from above. “Impressive … but futile. It is too bad. With adequate training, I could make you into a truly great warrior. This could be your destiny … Boomer … to join me …”

  Interrupting him, Jason said, “Um, you have something …” Jason gestured to his own ear with waving fingers.

  Rom Dasticon, annoyed, tried to wave away that which was tickling his left ear. No fewer than twenty-five Void-Feculence tentacles were simultaneously wrapping themselves around his arms, legs, torso, and neck. His eyes momentarily widened, then, as if he were quickly falling fast asleep, closed. The virile-appearing young warrior was transformed one final time into a withered old body as he began to disappear into the gooey mass of the Void-Feculence.

  “Sleep tight, mother-fucker,” Billy said, from somewhere close by.

  “That’s that …” Jason said, matter-of-factly.

  Boomer stayed where she was, as her father, Billy, and the others all hurried from the hold. She assumed some were heading to Medical to check on the injured, and others to the bridge, or perhaps to Engineering. Boomer kept her eyes locked on the last trace she’d seen of Rom Dasticon before he disappeared into the folds of the carnivorous vegetation. She had to be certain, and then, finally, she was. He was dead. Turning away, Boomer let her shoulders relax and started breathing normally again. After long years—so many dying at his hand—it was finally over. And all it took was a glorified houseplant to get the job done! For some reason that made her laugh.

  Turning away, she didn’t hear the sudden whoosh of air behind her. Something made her glance back over her shoulder—an instant chill accompanied by a dark heaviness—a feeling of dread. There he stood. Rom Dasticon had broken free somehow from the grasp of the Void-Feculence’s spindly tentacles. Panting in front of her, Dasticon was again the young Sahhrain warrior, though he had numerous lacerations, and blood was streaming down his arms and legs. The Sachem was alive—albeit certainly weakened. How had he escaped? Her brief hesitation was all it took for Dasticon to attack. With his enhancement shield already moving upward, she instinctively knew she didn’t have ti
me to raise her own shield to defend against what was coming.

  She’d practiced Mulluaan a thousand times with only limited success. It was a routine part of any Tahli warrior’s training—channeling the power of an enhancement shield through one’s hands and fingers. She’d always been able to do it to some degree, but it was far less effective than firing off distortion waves directly from the actual source—one’s enhancement shield.

  Today was different—had to be different. Today she had to bring everything she had ever learned over the years into this one moment in time. Not only as a Tahli warrior master … but the Goldwon. I have to own it! Boomer thought.

  Raising her right hand about an inch, her fingers became rigid. Relinquishing all inner resistance, Boomer let energy simply flow through her—become a part of her. And with that—she fired a fraction of a second first.

  A glancing blow of scarlet distortion waves struck Dasticon on the side of his face. So intense was the heat, all flesh there was instantly incinerated away—leaving behind a charred cheekbone and several grizzly tendons. Gritting his teeth against the pain, his back teeth poked into view through his grotesque open facial fissure.

  Boomer dove just as Dasticon’s shield blazed bright with distortion waves. She felt heat rake the back of her thighs—followed a split second later by intense pain. Her forward momentum carried her into a tightly tucked roll, which she propelled from in a near-vertical leap. She knew the catwalk was close—reactions now completely instinctual. With a fraction of an inch clearance, she cleared the catwalk’s railing and ducked low as her feet found purchase on the metal walkway.

  Bright distortion waves shot up from below, while white sparks sprayed into the air all around her. The metal catwalk, now cleaved in half, clanged as the once suspended footpath smashed into the deck below. Nearly losing her balance—Boomer cartwheeled forward over the edge. Spinning, and upside down, she found her target. Dasticon was also on the move. With the grace and fluidity of a gymnast, he flipped up and backward—landing atop one of the tall containers without so much as a sound.

  Boomer fired. This time he was ready for it and simply side-stepped out of the path of her distortion waves.

  “It has been a while since I’ve come up against someone with your abilities. Only a student of Tahli teachings was able to catch me so off-guard. Not again. Now I’m going to enjoy watching you die … little trouble-maker.”

  She fired again and this time she was right on target. With a palm held in front of him, her distortion waves scattered around him. Using Mulluaan, he brought up his other hand and, as if molding the energy force, bent the waves to one side and—amazingly—began to turn them back toward her. Boomer’s eyes widened.

  “Ah, a technique you are unfamiliar with … yes? There is much you still need to learn, Boomer; your training is incomplete. Why do you think Tahli himself, our master, two thousand years ago, was eventually defeated?”

  Boomer leapt up to another container—two away from his. “You haven’t beaten me yet, asshole. And you might want to look in a mirror. With a face looking like that—you should be begging me to finish you off quickly.”

  Rom Dasticon smiled and, in a blink, his ravaged face was whole again. But she knew it was only an illusion. She’d seen the old man—bent and withered. She continued to move—dodging and blocking—tiring of their conversation. She fired off a continuous barrage of bright scarlet energy waves while jumping in even closer—to the tall container directly in front of Dasticon. She would never defeat him if she backed off now—if she gave him an inch.

  The move must have surprised him, because he took a half-step backward while deflecting the force of her next foray of distortion waves.

  “Oh my god!”

  Boomer heard Mollie’s voice over her NanoCom: “I’ll get help!” She was standing at the entrance to the hold.

  “No!” Boomer cried. “Anyone who enters this compartment is dead. Rom Dasticon will kill them.”

  “But …”

  “Promise me! Promise me you won’t let anyone else come in here! Promise me, Mollie!” Boomer yelled.

  Mollie didn’t answer right away. “Fine … but you can’t always do everything yourself. Sometimes you need help.”

  “You promised … nobody comes in here.”

  Boomer’s attention was now fully on Dasticon. He seemed to have gained back the strength he’d lost to the Void-Feculence. Using moves she’d never seen before, he twice caught her off-guard; by sheer luck, she anticipated his lethal strikes by a narrow margin. Her breathing was coming in heaves and sweat ran freely down her face and body. In that moment she realized she was losing. Every passing moment he was coming closer to ending her life. Maybe I do need help …

  Rom Dasticon was obviously enjoying their battle of skills. In a brazen act of courage, he leapt forward onto the same tall container where Boomer stood. He was taking the offensive—bringing the battle to an end.

  The sweat streaming down her cheeks was mixed with tears. She would not be able to save herself, or the others on this ship after all. Mollie and her father would be killed, that was a certainty. She had failed. She moved her shield with all the energy she could muster. All she could do was try to block his relentless onslaught of distortion waves, but she was totally and completely spent. Oh God … help me …

  The next sound Boomer heard was so out of place—so unexpected—she simply ignored it.

  Behind Dasticon, she saw Mollie again, standing at the hold’s entrance—Mollie and something else.

  Boomer heard the sound again and knew exactly what she was hearing. A very distinctive sounding bark.

  Mollie let go of the drog’s makeshift collar and, with her six legs pumping, Alice moved into the hold with the speed of a wild cheetah. In a blur of motion, she leapt into the air and, like a bullet, struck Dasticon on his back—broadside. The master Sachem stumbled forward onto one knee, then turned partially around. Alice, stunned too, thrashed about to find her footing. When Dasticon raised his hand, the drog was raised up along with it. Suspended now in mid-air, Alice yelped frantically.

  The rage that filled Boomer was unparalleled. Feeling her blood rage within her veins and arteries, she said, “Don’t you ever … EVER … fucking touch my drog!” With that, she dispatched a bright glimmering silver hail of distortion waves—a type of distortion waves she’d never seen before—the beam of which was razor-sharp. With the slightest Mulluaan wave she removed Rom Dasticon’s head from his shoulders.

  Both drog and head fell to the deck bellow at the same instant. The decapitated head rolled on the floor for several seconds. The drog, meanwhile, seemed perfectly fine.

  Both Mollie and Boomer watched as Alice licked the bloody floor before becoming more interested in Rom Dasticon’s now old and withered head. She snatched it up in her powerful jaws and hurried out of the hold.

  Stunned, their mouths agape, both Boomer and Mollie looked at each other. Mollie said, “Did I just see that?”

  Boomer nodded. “I think so.” Exhausted and gasping for breath, she crumpled to her knees.

  Chapter 56

  Sol System

  Just Beyond the Kuiper Belt

  The Parcical

  __________________________

  Home to many millions of floating asteroids—mainly consisting of rock and ice—the Kuiper Belt surrounds the Sol System like an enveloping cloud. Short-period celestial objects within the Kuiper Belt have orbital periods around the sun of 150 years to 500 years. In contrast, the Oort Cloud, farther beyond, is vast and estimated to hold trillions of various-sized similar objects—with origin points of many long-period comets, with orbits up to a thousand years. Although most star systems have similar, surrounding belts of debris—the Sol System is incredibly well protected from all but the most determined interstellar visitor. Phase-shifting and interchange wormholes, two technologies not common amongst most alien cultures, have provided exclusive access to friendly, or Allied, vessels for the better par
t of a decade. Crafts and fleets of ships of an enemy or alien nature, such as the Craing during the Craing War, would often be required to slow their incursion into the Sol System substantially. It wasn’t uncommon for a warship to have its plasma cannons constantly engaged in clearing paths wide enough for their vessels to traverse. Today, after years of multiple incursions, and even private mining ventures, there are less than fifty cleared swaths—safe zones—where both egress and ingress are relatively safe. These so-called safe zones have made their way onto most alien star-chart databases. The Sol System was less safe from attack now than it was a decade earlier.

  * * *

  It wasn’t that Orion was unused to sitting in the Parcical’s captain’s chair. Doing so was a fairly common occurrence for her, since Star Watch operations often required missions down to planet surfaces, or onto other spacecraft. More often than not, Captain Reynolds headed up such missions. Not only did he thrive on the adventure aspects, but he was profoundly fascinated by life on other worlds. If anything, it showed Jason’s confidence in her ability to handle matters in his absence. Over the years, they had become an effective team—one based on loyalty and trust. That’s what made this particular operation so difficult. While Jason was away, overseeing the recovery of a two-hundred-year-old spacecraft, she had been left in charge. For all intent and purpose—Orion was captain. The problem was—she was bound to follow orders of the new Omni—as unsavory as they might be. But these weren’t just any orders, for Jason had given his word. Something he didn’t do lightly. The Jason she knew lived by such personal values as my word is my bond. The simple fact that Commander Brakken was now a headless corpse would, in all probability, make no difference. She considered the fact that there was only a finite number of the swarm droids left. Certainly not enough to attack a fleet of warships; they’d be lucky if what they had was enough for even one ship. But she knew, as far as Jason would be concerned, the utilization of swarm droids was off the table, not only in fighting the Sahhrain, but fighting anyone—ever.