Scrapyard Ship 3 Space Vengeance

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  But this morning was all about Mollie. He’d had little time to spend with her lately and nothing was going to stand in the way of him having a little dad and daughter time.

  She’d arrived at his cabin with a hundred questions, but Jason kept mum to where they were going or how they were going to get there.

  “What should I bring?” she asked, looking for a hint in the way he was dressed.

  “Nothing. Here, hold this for a sec, I packed us a lunch.” Jason finished putting on his shoes.

  Molly looked in the small satchel to see what he’d brought.

  “Why are you being so secretive? I hate surprises.”

  “Yeah, sure you do.”

  “I’m supposed to go to work today; Jack will be upset.”

  “I’ve cleared it with Jack.”

  They left the cabin and headed astern. At the DeckPort Mollie scowled. “If you don’t tell me, I’m not going.”

  “Okay, I guess I’ll have to go by myself.”

  When they emerged on the flight deck her expression changed from frustration to confusion. The Pacesetter, already prepped, was sitting in the middle of the bay with its canopy open.

  “Wait, we’re going in that?”

  “Is that okay?”

  “Yes, that’s okay. That is more than okay!”

  Mollie sat in the forward seat. Her helmet was a little big on her but she didn’t seem to notice. All strapped in and the canopy secured, Jason entered the coordinates. After a quick conversation with his XO, they phase-shifted to the Chihuahuan Desert above.

  “Ready to go?” Jason asked.

  “Stop asking me that, Dad—wherever we’re going, let’s just go already!”

  With that, Jason steered the Pacesetter off the ground and headed south, then nearly vertically straight up, toward the stratosphere. Mollie screamed. Quickly, her fear turned to excitement, though the screams continued. The edge of the stratosphere changed from light to blackness and then back to light again as they descended. Jason watched as her helmet spun this way and that as she took it all in. When they reached near-ground level again, the world had turned white. Miles and miles of white. Skimming the Antarctic planes at two hundred miles an hour, Mollie became quiet. The landscape, barren and beautiful, demanded it. They approached a coast of jagged white cliffs—contrasted against small inlet pools the color of aquamarine. Fifty feet below, too many penguins to count shuffled here and there as they swam and romped around.

  “Oh my God! They are soooo cute!”

  They phase-shifted to an open area below. Jason climbed down the ladder first, telling Mollie to sit tight for a moment. Stowed away in the Pacesetter’s storage compartment were sub-zero coats, snow pants and boots. The cold was almost unbearable. Now properly outfitted, with teeth chattering, Jason pulled a thermos from the compartment and poured Mollie and himself a steaming cup of hot chocolate. They headed off to play with the penguins.

  * * *

  Four hours later, with Mollie back with her mother, Jason used the Pacesetter to phase-shift back up to Earth’s surface and then flew on to the outpost. After requesting permission to land, Jason made a complete circuit around the perimeter of the outpost. Below was a flurry of activity. Troops were moving from one location to another. Equipment was being transferred out of the belly of a C5 U.S. military transport plane from origins unknown. The outpost’s fleet of two hundred plus Craing warships was in the process of being painted over—from a drab brown color to battleship grey, navy blue, or stark white.

  Jason set the fighter down at a designated field location near one of the two runways. The last time Jason landed here, he’d been greeted with an armed militia. Now, a small contingent of five men, apparently a mixed bag of Army, Navy, and Marine military services, stood at attention and waited for Jason to join them. They saluted and Jason couldn’t help but notice they were all excited and holding back smiles. This is how he’d initially imagined the outpost—a place where the best of the best could serve their country. Some would be among the elite few who’d travel into the far reaches of space.

  “Welcome, Captain Reynolds. I’m Sergeant Matheney; we’ll be escorting you to your meeting with the admiral and the Joint Chiefs.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  It was then that Jason noticed the top of the closest flagpole. A new flag fluttered there in the afternoon breeze. A striking red, gold, and blue design for the Earth Outpost for the United Planetary Alliance—the EOUPA flag. Each of the men had a matching EOUPA patch on the upper arm of his uniform as well.

  Jason fell in step with the group as they headed for the larger of the two outpost buildings. Before entering, he stopped and turned toward the right-most flagpole. At the top of this pole was the flag of the United States of America. Jason stood a bit taller and saluted the flag. He turned to join the others and entered the building.

  * * *

  The admiral’s office, or, more accurately, his suite of offices, took up the complete top floor of the Outpost Systems and Command Building. Military police were positioned at the ground floor elevator, as well as at the elevator exit on the top floor.

  A ruckus came from the end of the hall. Jason instantly recognized his father’s deep voice, as well as the voices of several others. He entered the admiral’s large wood-paneled conference room. Apparently, someone had just released the punch line to a funny joke. All of the five men present were laughing so heartily they hadn’t noticed Jason’s presence. The first to look up and see Jason was Secretary of Defense Ben Walker. The laughing subsided and the others, General Brian Carter, Vice Admiral Harold Brightman, and General Eric Slayton, acknowledged Jason with somewhat subdued politeness. The room was thick with cigar smoke and the smell of expensive Scotch. Jason saluted them and the five men stood and returned his salute.

  Jason moved toward the open chair near his father’s, situated at the head of the table. Before sitting down, he shook the men’s outstretched hands.

  It was Ben Walker who spoke first. “Captain Reynolds, Jason … we all owe you a great debt of gratitude.”

  The room had become quiet and each man, now serious, had his eyes locked on Jason.

  “Thank you, sir. I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve made my share of stumbles along the way.”

  “Oh, we’ve noticed,” General Slayton chided.

  “All right, let’s all sit and get down to business,” Admiral Reynolds said, taking his own seat. A tumbler with several fingers of Scotch slid across the mahogany tabletop, stopping right in front of Jason’s right hand. Jason nodded his appreciation toward Vice Admiral Brightman.

  “Although we’re all pretty much up to speed, why don’t you give us a quick synopsis of the course of events that occurred over the last few weeks, up to the destruction of the three Caldurian vessels?” Admiral Reynolds said.

  “Three? I thought it was only two Caldurian vessels that were destroyed,” the Secretary of Defense muttered, confused.

  Admiral Reynolds raised his hand. “We’ll get to that. Jason, go ahead.”

  Jason stared at the table for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts on everything that had happened over the last few weeks. He then began to speak: first relating the meeting he’d had with the three Craing overlord prisoners at the outpost, and learning from them two important factors. “First,” Jason continued, “In response to our unexpected victory, defeating five hundred Craing vessels on the outskirts of our solar system, the Craing readied their response. They had three Caldurian vessels of their own. Called the Emperor’s Guard, these newer, more technologically advanced warships were being readied to assault Earth. Second, we learned of the Craing’s ability to use something called the Loop. By way of a stabilized wormhole they had created close to their home worlds, they were able to move about and dominate other civilizations throughout the universe. The bottom line was something needed to be done, right there on their home turf, to even the odds. But even with FTL technology, a trip to Craing space would take
over one hundred years. We then came up with another idea on how to get there, but it would be risky.”

  Jason paused and took a sip of his drink. The room was quiet and he had their full attention. “You’re all familiar with the Zoo on board The Lilly. Well, it just so happens that one of the habitats there is on Halimar, which is one of the Craing worlds. The habitat, which we call HAB 12, is out of phase from our own perspective, so once in there, we needed to find another portal to access the Craing planet. We had less than a week to find the portal, destroy the Loop and stop the Craing from sending the Emperor’s Guard. After losing a substantial number of our team, we made it onto their planet and destroyed the Loop. We were unsuccessful at stopping those three Caldurian ships from entering the wormhole, though. While all this was going on, The Lilly was en route to another star system to deliver the three overlords to discuss asylum for their people. With minimal crew and security forces, The Lilly never made it there. Tricking The Lilly’s crew with a phoney distress signal on a space freighter, and assisted by a traitor crewmember on board The Lilly, the pirates boarded the ship and took hostages.”

  “Yes, we read in your report that your ex-wife was held by their leader, um … what’s his name?” General Slayton asked.

  “Captain Stalls. A real piece of work and someone we’ll need to keep tabs on. He has no less than two hundred warships at his command—any one of which could wipe out millions here on Earth. We re-entered the ship from HAB 12 and regained partial control of The Lilly. It was more of a stand-off, really, which lead to Stalls and his band of pirates releasing the hostages and abandoning the ship.”

  “So, we not only have the Craing to deal with in open space, we have this band of killer pirates, as well?” Vice Admiral Brightman asked.

  “Afraid so. Anyway, once we made it back here, Earth was already engaged with the three Caldurian ships of the Emperor’s Guard.”

  “Now, let me stop you there, Captain. They weren’t actually attacking us outright,” Brightman said.

  “That’s correct; they were looking for something or someone. Caldurians had, or have, access to what amounts to unlimited wormhole travel. While the Craing were able to utilize their Loop wormhole to access a limited number of outpoints throughout the universe, the Caldurian technology has no such restrictions: travel seems to be instantaneous to anywhere. The Craing had limited information about that kind of capability and were desperately looking for answers to acquire it. Somehow, they got the idea that the answers lay deep here, within the Earth’s crust.”

  Jason was willing to provide only so much information about this subject, and wanted to evade the current line of questioning. “Anyway, when we entered Earth space, we engaged the three vessels. Although the ships were somewhat more advanced than The Lilly, the Craing crews seemed to be inexperienced with the technology. Two of the vessels were destroyed and the third was disabled. We boarded that vessel and took control, but within hours the Craing crew, all at once, started to die. It was then that we discovered that we, the crew of The Lilly, also had the same defective nano-tech devices in our heads, and we too had very little time left to live.”

  Jason saw that the others around the table were exchanging glances. This time it was Ben Walker who interjected. “So, tell us again how that one remaining Caldurian ship was destroyed? Seems we have conflicting reports about this aspect of your story, Captain. The vessel was extremely important; the loss of its technological advances is tremendous.” Walker was clearly agitated and made no attempt to hide it.

  “As I mentioned, sir, the Caldurian ships were highly advanced. From what we’ve been able to piece together, the ship’s AI had triggered defensive actions and fired at one of our approaching vessels. We returned fire and were lucky enough to destroy the ship before any more of our people were killed. It was then that the two outpost battle cruisers rendezvoused with us.”

  Jason was perfectly aware they were skeptical of his accounts. They probably had suspicions that the Caldurian vessel was still in one piece, hidden somewhere. Jason’s father stood and walked over to the small minibar on the other side of the conference room.

  “Who needs their drink topped off?” he asked, taking some of the tension out of the room. Each of the men, including Jason, nodded. The admiral took extra time pouring from a cut glass decanter. Jason wanted to avoid the inevitable ongoing discussion of bringing The Lilly under the U.S. government’s purview.

  “I do have something more of interest to add about the Caldurians,” Jason said. “I’m not sure how much the admiral has already shared.” Jason saw his father’s alarmed expression and instantly regretted speaking up. Jason continued, “The same technology the Craing were so desperately trying to uncover here on Earth—actually, below Earth’s surface—apparently does in fact exist. Perhaps in time we’ll have access to this technology. What I’m talking about is unlimited wormhole travel.”

  The admiral replaced the decanter on the sideboard table with enough noise to stop Jason mid-sentence.

  “Jason, getting everyone’s hopes up at this stage would be ill-advised. It’s premature for us to count our chickens before they’re hatched.”

  Ben Walker looked from the admiral and then over to Jason and held up both hands. “Wait just a minute; we’re not talking fucking chickens here, we’re talking military capabilities that could alter the ongoing strategic balance of power in space. Who the hell are you, Admiral, to make the decision whether or not to disseminate or withhold that crucial information?”

  The admiral quickly shot another irritated glance at Jason as he sat back down at the head of the table. Jason felt for his father—he really did—but he was relieved, even temporarily, to be off the hot seat.

  “Relax, Ben! We were hoping to have a full report to you within the next day or so,” the admiral said. “Jason can provide more of the details, but we’ve met with a Caldurian representative. Apparently, they have been watching us for some time now.”

  Jason continued on for his father. “They are on the fence about our intentions. Their fear is of putting this technology in the wrong hands, such as the Craing, which would, beyond doubt, unbalance planetary co-existence to the far reaches of space. The Caldurians are not a warring society. If we approach them solely for our own military aspirations, in their eyes we’re no different than the Craing. It’s for these reasons we have kept this delicate stage of negotiations more informal. Please understand, this representative approached me personally, not the U.S. government.”

  This seemed to appease Walker, and he mulled over Jason’s comments. Jason saw that his father had relaxed somewhat.

  “Let’s give it a day or so and see what Jason and this Caldurian come up with. What’s his name?” the admiral asked.

  “He goes by the name Granger,” Jason replied.

  “Okay, let’s give Jason some time to work with Granger and see what inroads can be made. But Jason, this technology needs to be shared, is that understood?” Walker said in a stern voice.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All right, we need to change gears, Captain,” Walker said. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the outpost has come under the reign of the U.S. government. Each of the military branches—Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines—are now an integral part of this installation. I know you don’t approve, but that’s the way it is.”

  “And you are dividing up the Craing warships we have into those separate divisions?” Jason asked.

  “The lion’s share will go to the Air Force to support our efforts and defense of Earth space. The remaining crafts will supplement the Army, Navy and Marine’s defense efforts here on Earth.”

  “You do realize that diminishing the size of the fleet, even by a few warships, could render catastrophic results for us going up against potential enemies in space?” Jason asked, trying to keep calm.

  “The admiral has already made that argument; it’s been noted. Although I tend to agree with the two of you, there are other political for
ces at work here,” Walker replied.

  Jason sat back in his chair, amazed how little had changed in Washington. The only two officers present who’d actually had deep space combat experience were being indiscriminately discounted.

  “That’s not what we need to discuss with you right now, Captain,” Admiral Reynolds said flatly. “I had thought what remained of the Alliance would still be in shambles, but they’ve reached out to me via FTL transmission. It seems they’re rallying again. Pooling what forces they have left, and now, other planetary systems have asked to join the Alliance.”

  “Why? Why now?” Jason asked.

  “As we all know, several months ago the Craing annihilated the Alliance fleet. The Craing, with a fleet of two thousand warships, moved on with virtually no losses. Five hundred of those ships broke off and headed straight for Earth. We defeated them at the outskirts of our solar system. We had hoped what remained of the original Craing fleet, some fifteen hundred warships, had returned to the Craing worlds. Unfortunately, we’ve recently discovered that was not the case. With the destruction of the Loop, those ships were indeed marooned here and all indications are they’re now heading back toward Alliance space.”