Boomer (Star Watch Book 3)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

“Yes. They’re on Harpaign … headed for Loma City.”

  “I knew it!”

  “What?”

  “I … I saw a vision … through Mollie’s eyes. She … they … were being attacked. By the Sahhrain.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll send another team. What about you? Your father will want you on the Parcical.”

  “It’s here? In the Dacci system?”

  “Yes, you need to come—”

  “I can’t do that, Orion. It’s a long story, but I need to track down two more won effigies. It’s all about keeping Rom Dasticon …”

  Orion finished her sentence, “from entering our realm. We’re aware of that. Your father knows, or at least had a pretty strong hunch that you were doing just that. Okay … keep on mission, but don’t turn off your nano-devices ever again!” Orion scolded.

  “I won’t, I promise. But let me know the second you hear from Dad. Let me know if I should return to Harpaign.”

  “We’ll find them. And if the Sahhrain are there … they’re going to have to deal with the Parcical. So go! We’ve got this, Boomer.” Orion cut the connection.

  Boomer closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

  “What are you doing?”

  Boomer blinked away the virtual menu option, seeing Rogna approaching. “Drom wants you.” She smiled at her own statement. “Well, we all already know that, but he wants you on the bridge. Something about where we’re going next.”

  Does Drom really want me? Like in a romantic way? Boomer wondered.

  “Why are you still standing there? You look … sad. I’m sad too. I miss Carmotta,” Rogna said, going over and joining Boomer, resting her back against the bulkhead next to her.

  Boomer felt the girl’s need to connect. With the loss of her sister, Rogna had transferred her dependence on Carmotta over to Boomer. As annoying as Rogna could be, she was Boomer’s responsibility now. She owed that much to Carmotta.

  “Come on. Let’s get back to the others. We still have two more stupid statues to find.”

  * * *

  Drom was seated next to Gain at the back of the bridge. Both, hunched over, were studying the now-open scroll and looked up as Boomer and Rogna entered. Boomer noticed Captain Brith and Commander Brolin were back, now seated at their respective panels. Looking no worse for wear, neither looked particularly enthusiastic to be back, having to again pilot the vessel for the enemy.

  “You left the mess … in a hurry,” Drom said.

  Boomer shrugged his comment off. “I had to take care of something. Did you figure out our next stop?” she asked.

  “According to the captain here, who has a far better grasp of ancient Dacci, the next closest planet would be Draggim.”

  “Let me guess: It’s barren, inhospitable, and situated in a remote part of the Dacci system.”

  Captain Brith said, “That’s a good guess, with one exception. It’s not barren. In fact, that small world teems with life.”

  “What kind of life?” Gain asked before Boomer could.

  “I’m guessing … insectile. There’s bugs on that world the size of this ship and I’m not exaggerating about that. The planets in this system have been deemed off-limits to non-scientists for over a hundred years. Too many visitors—thinking they could build strong enough structures to keep the native inhabitants out—found that out the hard way. Nothing will or can stop them when creatures attack or insects swarm. So you won’t find shipping lanes going anywhere near these places today.”

  “I hate bugs,” Rogna said, making a face. “Maybe I’ll stay on board the ship while you go looking for your statue-thingy.”

  Gain said, “No way! Just because you don’t like bugs won’t excuse you. Not a one of us like fucking bugs.”

  “How far away is this Draggim world?” Boomer asked.

  “Few hours … we’re en route there now,” Brith said, turning his chair forward.

  “You want to go over the symbols … what we’ve figured out about the next set of obstacles?” Drom asked Boomer. He then looked at Gain, his brows raised.

  “Oh … I guess that’s my cue to leave.” Gain stood and made an elaborate gesture toward his open seat. “Come on, Rogna, I’ll show you how to replicate Sahhrain ice cream in the kitchen.”

  Boomer took his vacated seat and felt the warmth of Drom’s body close to her, their shoulders touching. She tried not to overthink how the simple contact of their arms could fluster her so much.

  “First of all, I don’t want any argument from you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m running the next obstacle course.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to and because I’m not afraid of insects. I collected them as a boy. I think they are … interesting. Even kept a small colony of shank beetles till the age of twelve.” He said this as if it was supposed to mean something to her.

  Boomer hated bugs. If Drom expected an argument from her, he’d be disappointed. “No problem, Drom … go for it!”

  Chapter 33

  Jason, not waiting for Mollie to snap out of her trance, picked her up and flung her over his shoulder, then dashed back to find cover within the trees. The incoming distortion waves had increased, up to the point that it was obvious now they were definitively outnumbered. Only five against an untold number—and Ricket was unarmed.

  “I’m fine … put me down, Dad!”

  He set Mollie down—she’d begun to squirm in his arms and was loudly protesting.

  Once behind cover, Jason immediately joined Billy and Rizzo in returning enemy fire with his enhancement shield. Mollie was soon by his side, too. He noticed she was increasingly more proficient using the Dacci technology, firing off her own volleys of violet distortion waves in the general direction of the Sahhrain.

  “Any guess how many we’re up against?” Jason yelled into the group of trees, twenty yards off to his left, where both Billy and Rizzo had taken cover.

  “Maybe fifty,” Rizzo said.

  Billy said, “They’re making steady progress moving up on our position. It’s just a matter of time before they wage a full-on attack.”

  Jason found Ricket, cowering behind a lone tree several paces behind him. “How about your comms? Can you send a message, Ricket? Or a NanoText?”

  “I am sorry, Captain. The quantity of Glist here is very high. My nano-devices are not responding.”

  Jason took another quick glance back at Ricket, noting that the small Craing looked disoriented. He definitely was being impacted physically by all the Glist, which made sense. Over the years, Ricket had steadily increased ever more nano-tech into his physiology, which reminded Jason of someone addicted to plastic surgery. One more nip and tuck—here or there—always justifying their need to have another procedure to correct this or that.

  “I don’t know what I’m even shooting at!” Mollie said, frustration in her voice.

  “Let’s hope they don’t either,” Jason replied, then ceased firing. “Hear that?”

  In the distance, he heard the low droning sound of multiple vehicles approaching.

  “Shit!” Billy said. “Dune-skippers. Over there! They’re moving along that far side of the valley. They get in behind us, flank us, and we’re …”

  “Screwed,” Rizzo interjected.

  Billy crouched low, making his way over to the next crop of trees. He began to fire at four now-visible dune-skippers. Each held two Sahhrain warriors, making steady progress one hundred yards away.

  “Dad!”

  Jason spun around to see ten warriors moving through the trees, off to his left. Of course! They want to flank us on that side too, he thought. Together with Mollie, having actual live targets to concentrate on, he initiated a steady flurry of distortion waves toward their enemy combatants.

  “I got one!” Mollie yelled with enthusiasm. “I love this thing!”

  In that moment Jason had to smile. K
nowing the odds of their surviving were looking less and less promising, he realized how much he’d missed Mollie’s presence. Missed his daughter’s unique, quirky enthusiasm—for different things, situations, and life in general.

  Jason also picked off two Sahhrain. First one and then the other were propelled backward, off their feet, and into some trees, falling lifeless at their trunks. He too was getting more and more familiar with using the Dacci weapon.

  “You know what’s coming, don’t you, Cap?” Rizzo asked.

  “Full frontal,” Jason said.

  “Full frontal?” Mollie repeated quizzically.

  “Their dual flanking moves have two purposes—to secure both sides and eventually limit our retreat. They also act as a diversion for when they implement their bigger attack, which will come from the front—full frontal,” Rizzo said, giving Mollie a crooked grin.

  “Whatever,” she said, smiling back at him.

  Jason only half-listened to their back-and-forth chatter. He knew it was a good way to relieve some of the tension around them right then—no comms to call in reinforcements; they were highly out-numbered; and their present position was all but invisible to the Parcical.

  Suddenly he spotted the enemy approaching, an oncoming full frontal attack. No less than thirty Sahhrain red capes could be seen moving in the distance—periodically becoming visible between the trees. His mind flashed to the Revolutionary War and the British red-coated soldiers. Red uniforms was stupid back then, and equally stupid for the Sahhrain combatants now. Although the way things were going, the Sahhrain would probably have the last laugh still.

  Once more, Jason fingered the small SuitPac within the folds of his Shadick and again nothing happened.

  “Here they come!” Rizzo yelled, moving out from the cover of his tree while steadily firing toward the quickly approaching Sahhrain onslaught.

  “Hit the deck! Down, everyone!” Jason yelled, as the small forest lit up all around them. Instinctively, he dove in the direction of Mollie, wanting to protect her from what seemed as close to Armageddon as he’d yet experienced. The trees—all of them—instantly erupted into billowing balls of flame as hundreds of crisscrossing distortion waves passed inches over their heads. The Sahhrain were now moving in from all sides. Mollie curled her body into a ball, her hands covering her head. Jason slithered like a snake across the ground, reaching her and trying to cover her body with his own. He felt the first of the distortion waves hit him squarely in the back, another in the thigh, then another in the arm. The pain was incredible. Mollie too was hit—her screams filled his ears—and he hoped, for her sake, that their end would come fast.

  Only partially aware of the muted sounds of more dune-skippers arriving, Jason continued to shield Mollie—attempting to protect her from distortion waves and the burning branches, now raining down from nearby trees. Hot embers ignited the sleeve of his Shadick and he hastily patted out the flame. This was it … the end … the end of everything had come.

  The sound was wrong … not dune-skippers.

  Several sets of legs approached and Jason moved the face of his enhancement shield toward them. He hesitated, recognizing the unique camo patterns worn by the Parcical’s Sharks. The blast from powerful multi-guns, simultaneously firing off countless plasma bolts, was one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard. Distant screams from an army in retreat foretold they would survive the day, after all.

  Strong arms pulled Jason off Mollie, and he looked into Gunny Orion’s smiling face. He didn’t know how in hell she could possibly be there—but he was never happier to see anyone in his life. A thought quickly crossed his mind. “Don’t kill them all … we’ll need to question some of them.”

  “Already a step ahead of you. We’ve got six prisoners, now being held within the city,” she said. “You’ve both been hit. You need an evac to the Parcical.”

  “Later for me.”

  He looked over at Mollie, slowly getting to her feet. “Later for me too,” she said, “although that hurt like—”

  “A bitch,” Rizzo said, approaching and smiling.

  “Cap … where’s Billy?”

  Jason saw the concern in Orion’s eyes. He looked over to the right, toward the cliffs. “He moved off, to cover our right flank.”

  Both Jason and Orion hurried off in that direction. “Billy?” Jason called out.

  “Dammit, Billy … where are you?” Orion yelled, her voice tight with concern.

  Eventually they emerged from the trees where a crystal-clear stream babbled. Three abandoned dune-skippers, one half-submerged in water, and six dead Sahhrain warriors, implied a recent battle had taken place. Orion walked among the dead, then stopped and looked at Jason. There was pleading in her eyes. Pleading that Billy wouldn’t be found there, also dead.

  Jason said, “You know as well as I that we don’t give up on Billy’s ability to survive a battle, even when the odds are stacked against him.”

  “If he’s alive he would have answered us … our presence is pretty obvious!”

  “Just calm down … we’ll find him,” Jason said, moving further downstream, looking for anything—any clue—to where his friend might be. The truth was Gunny was right. If he were alive—conscious—he’d have called out for help.

  Up ahead, a toppled tree trunk made a natural bridge over the water. As he approached, he saw two legs—extending from the far side—unmoving.

  Orion sprinted past Jason, obviously spotting them as well. Right on her heels, he joined her on the other side. Orion stopped in her tracks and peered down at the man sitting in the water—his back propped up against the tree. His eyes were closed and his face was blackened to the point he was barely recognizable. Billy’s ears were both gone now—instead of just the one.

  Orion’s hands were covering her mouth, as tears filled her eyes. She turned toward Jason—all hope gone from her face. But upon noting Jason’s expression, she looked down again at Billy; his eyes were open and he was smiling up at her.

  “You asshole! What are you doing just sitting there in the water like an idiot? Why didn’t you answer us?”

  Clearly, Billy had survived a whole lot of distortion wave fire. As awful as Jason felt, enduring his own painful set of injuries, Billy looked to be in far worse shape.

  Orion continued to yell down at him when he pointed to an ear—where an ear used to be.

  Billy shook his head—confused. “I can’t hear a thing … my ears,” he yelled.

  “He’s totally deaf, Gunny,” Jason said, kneeling down in the water next to his friend, and giving him a couple of pats on the shoulder. “See … both ears are gone.”

  Orion continued to stare down at Billy, her expression a mixture of anger and relief. Billy, on the other hand, was all smiles, seeing that she was worried about him.

  Jason stood. “How did you get down here, Orion?”

  “Three shuttles, full of Sharks; Leon and Hanna came down in the SpaceRunner.” She helped Billy to his feet. His legs went wobbly beneath him and she placed her shoulder under his arm to support the bulk of his weight.

  “But how … how did you know we needed your help?” he asked, looking at her, confused.

  Orion suddenly brightened. “Oh yeah, I got a NanoCom hail from someone you know.”

  Jason took in a breath and waited. “No! Not Boomer?”

  “Uh huh … she’s alive and she’s okay, Cap.”

  Jason felt a tremendous weight suddenly release from his shoulders. He suspected she was still alive, but until then he didn’t know for sure. He gave a silent thank you to the stars above.

  Orion supported Billy, heading back toward the burnt out trees, where, Jason suspected, one of the shuttles was parked. “Wait, how did Boomer know we were here?” he yelled after her, hurrying to catch up.

  Orion and Billy kept walking forward. She said, “You’ll have to get the full story from her. Apparently, she saw Mollie somehow and that she was in danger. How that happened I have no idea.
Boomer said she recognized Mollie’s location. That is, here, in Loma City, and that she was under attack.”

  Jason took that in. Mollie had spoken to him about her and Boomer’s growing connection—their shared visions. “That still doesn’t explain how you found us.”

  “It took us a while to track you. Since your comms were out, we had to track you from your last phase-shift location. Actually, it was Leon and Hanna who found this gorge and followed it. Eventually spotting Prince Aqeel’s dead body. After that, finding the rest of you was pretty easy. I need to get Billy evaced out of here, Cap. He’s unconscious and not looking so good.”

  Chapter 34

  Lord Zintar Shakrim entered the sanctum, immediately feeling the familiar chill. As if the cold itself were a conscious being, it slithered and wrapped around his body, beneath his garments, as though hungrily seeking out what it was not—a thing alive. Zintar waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and eventually the soft glow of an amber light above him became visible. The compartment, built to exact specifications, was immense. Miles and miles of open space, right there on his command ship. If it still bothered him that much of the space had been appropriated—he also knew it was far too late. He’d already made a deal with the proverbial devil.

  He let his eyes wander, unable to focus on anything in particular. There was nothing around but a heavy, all-pervading, mist—dreadful wet air—as close as possible to approximate the native environment of the god-like being. He detested Rom Dasticon, whose virtual visits had been increasing of late. Zintar had zero illusions—allowing the aberration, that harbinger of evil, into their realm in actual physical form would hardly prove to be inconsequential. Everything would change. Once done, it could not be undone. But the Sahhrain people had come extremely far in only a few years. Zintar could not deny them—their reemergence from seeming near obliteration to where they were now—on the verge of becoming an intergalactic superpower.

  As Zintar contemplated the enormity of it all—the mounting influence of the dark being, from a completely separate multiverse realm—he couldn’t help but ask the same question one more time: Am I making a huge mistake? And the same inevitable answer came back to him: Am I willing to risk the Sahhrain suffering defeat, again, at the hands of the humans?