Ricket continued to speak into Gaddy’s NanoCom, Gaddy, we will be rescued. Nothing will stop Captain Reynolds from getting us out of here. We just need to hold on a little longer. Can you do that … can you hold on?
Ricket listened to the silence and wondered if he was making any impact at all on her, or if she was on the verge of giving the guardian everything he wanted. Then he saw her distorted shape rise up—her head looking up at the towering form standing before her. When she spoke again, her voice was weak and barely audible. “Has anyone ever told you … you smell like shit?”
* * *
Superintendent Gettling stood thirty feet above them on the catwalk and watched the Mollmol conduct his trade. In all the years he’d known Trancus, to his knowledge, he had never let a subject get under his slimy, black skin. And now there were two of them. Both, somehow, able to withstand anything and everything the guardian attempted. A part of Gettling took delight in seeing the foul creature bested. Gettling was basically ambivalent about the various methodologies used in acquiring information from Dreathlor’s populace. There was a place for torture. He, too, had been the harbinger of such practices for many years. But the Mollmol … he possessed a level of cruelty Gettling had never encountered. The creature was evil incarnate. There did not seem to be a separation between the heinous acts he performed, and the creature himself.
As if reading his thoughts, Trancus looked up and held Getting’s stare. The superintendent took one last inhalation of breathable air and descended the stairs.
Both Gettling and Trancus approached each other within the station. Gettling took the opportunity to observe the Craing male, the one named Nelmon. He was sitting at the middle point of his cell and looked to be no worse for wear. Certainly hadn’t the look of a prisoner who had been subjected to one solid week of unimaginable pain. Gettling turned and looked into the adjacent cell. The female, Gaddy. Although not looking quite as unaffected as the male, she too didn’t look particularly ill-treated. Was the Mollmol losing his touch? Perhaps he’d grown a conscience and had lightened his methods. No. One look at the brooding creature at his side and Gettling was assured it must be something else.
“Perhaps it’s time you took a short break. Let me bring in Drak. Although he’s not you, he’s always been quite effective pulling out information. It’s always best to mix things up, anyway.”
“No. That is not an option. I will be the one to break them. It is only a matter of time. There is something … I’m missing here.” Trancus tilted his large, snake-shaped head and turned back toward the Craing male, then turned toward the female. “It is almost as if …” He let the words hang as he came to some kind of conclusion. “We need to test for energy harmonics. Both of them need to be tested. I think they’re communicating with each other.”
Gettling let out a long breath and shook his head. “That’s impossible. That would have been detected on the transport ship over here. Anyway … that type of equipment does not reside on this vessel. We’re lucky to have flushable toilets on this old barge. But it’s more than that. Devices, such as the one you speak of, can be used against us. We have strict rules concerning the use of wireless devices.”
“Get me the energy harmonics detector and I will break these two within an hour.”
Gettling also knew the importance of achieving their interrogation goals. Hell, his position as Dreathlor prison supervisor could be at stake.
“It will take a few days, and only if one can be obtained on a nearby cruiser. In the meantime, try to be more effective.”
Gettling watched as Trancus moved purposely across the compartment and out into the Craing male’s holding cell. Gettling’s eyes fell to a wet swath of slime left behind on the deck plates.
Turning his attention to the Craing called Nelmon, Gettling watched the small Craing’s eyes. Those were not the eyes of someone fearing his captor. At that precise moment, Gettling realized he’d underestimated this one.
Chapter 16
It took Jason several minutes to track down the location of Admiral Pen. Ensign McBride relayed him the fact that he was back on his meganaught, along with Perkins. Apparently, the logistics of moving thousands of human and rhino prisoners, not to mention the relocating of just as many Craing crewmembers, was a colossal undertaking. And one, evidently, requiring his on-site supervision. Once Jason determined the Craing admiral was with Perkins, his XO, it was a simple matter of phase-shifting to their location, inside one of the ship’s larger mid-ship holds.
Typically, Jason discouraged the crew from phase-shifting into the confines of The Lilly, or any other U.S. ship. Even with safeguards, he always felt the risk, though small, of phase-shifting into a bulkhead, or on top of another person, wasn’t warranted. Today, though, he was ignoring his own regulations. He flashed into the meganaught’s hold, thirty feet away from Perkins and Admiral Pen. Both, startled, looked up at his sudden appearance. Jason took a quick look around the expansive space. He could park two Lilly’s in here and still have room to spare.
“Sorry to startle you, Admiral Pen. I require your assistance.”
“Not a problem, Captain Reynolds. We’re trying to figure out where to put everyone.”
“You’re putting people here … in this hold?”
“The Craing crew. There’s insufficient space within any of the other dreadnaughts. I suppose we will have to make do with a less than adequate solution … we will reconfigure this space accordingly.”
Admiral Pen’s attempt to guilt Jason into letting his Craing crew remain in their own quarters had not gone unnoticed. “Good. I’m sure you’ll make excellent use of this space. Listen, I need to locate a specific Craing vessel.”
“Here? One of my fleet ships?” Pen asked.
Jason was tempted to correct the Craing officer; the fleet ships were no longer Pen’s. “No, Admiral, it’s a prison barge. Dreathlor prison barge.”
The admiral’s expression turned serious. “Why would you want to find that old prison barge? No one goes near that vessel … at least, not willingly.”
“Nevertheless, can you help me locate it?”
Admiral Pen looked uncomfortable with the request. He looked at Perkins: “Can you continue on your own?”
“I think I can handle it,” Perkins said, nodding to Jason.
“We’ll need to return to the bridge,” Pen said. “It seems obvious we’ve been cut off, from proprietary fleet information, or from communications to Craing High Command. What I can get for you is Dreathlor’s last known coordinates. The AI should be able to piece together the vessel’s intended destination, as well as a best-guess estimate on her current whereabouts.”
“That sounds promising,” Jason said, feeling encouraged. “As for communications, we’ve been able to decipher Craing fleets’ interstellar communications for some time now.”
The Craing admiral looked surprised by this comment. “You can tap into fleet comms? Transmit as well?”
Jason nodded, and left it at that. He wasn’t ready to give him further information on what they could, and couldn’t, technically achieve.
Admiral Penn continued, “As I’m sure you are aware, very little time is actually spent traversing open space. Craing vessels, even the prison barge, will be en route to a loop wormhole. Tracking the prison barge, once it has entered the wormhole, will be far more problematic.”
“Understood,” Jason said. What the admiral didn’t know was that both The Lilly and the Minian were now equipped with a probability matrix. They would need very little information for the technology to work finding the prison barge. Jason wondered if this same technology had been implemented into their small barebones Streamline.
* * *
Jason’s next task was to assemble a small, effective, assault team. As he’d pointed out to his father, coming at the vessel with heavy, brute force would be more trouble, less effective, than going in covertly. Yes, Dreathlor had never been breached … but how many of its would-be assailants had p
hase-shift capability? From what Jason learned over the last few hours, the old prison barge, never modernized, was purposely kept low-tech. Its heavy, nearly indestructible outer hull and inner bulkheads were so thick even a multi-gun would be depleted of energy packs before causing any substantial damage. And the absence of anything wireless on board kept everything very old school. Thick, hardwired cables encased in thick metal constructs made unwelcome outside access virtually impossible. New, evidently, was not always better.
Jason, deciding on a ten-man team, phase-shifted back and forth from The Lilly to the Minian, then over to the Craing meganaught, and then back to The Lilly. So much for phase-shift safety concerns—but time was a factor. He wanted to speak with his new team one-on-one, and Jason made no attempt to hide the fact that their attempt to rescue Ricket and Gaddy could be a one-way trip. For that reason, the mission was one hundred percent voluntary. Billy and Rizzo were on board, no questions asked. Same with Lieutenant Grimes, who’d be piloting the Starlight, which was what they’d christened the Streamline’s replacement. Traveler had already made it clear to Jason he was going. That left Bristol. As difficult as the young crewmember could be, he was a technology genius and had gotten the crew of The Lilly out of more jams than Jason could count on two hands. Jason tracked him down to the Minian’s engineering section.
“Bristol … can I talk to you for a moment?”
The skinny, awkward twenty-something was lying on his back, peering into the dark recesses of a power distribution interface. He didn’t look up from his work. Jason watched him take measurements with a hand-held device. “You’re the captain … you don’t need my permission. Talk all you want.”
“We’re going after Ricket. You want to come along?”
“Not really.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say? I thought you were … friends.”
“Ricket’s okay. But it’s not like we hang out or anything.”
Jason stared down at Bristol, who’d yet to look up at him. He shifted to a new drive coupling and began taking measurements there. Then it came to Jason.
“So, what do you want?” he asked.
Bristol finally looked up and shrugged. “Well … if I did go along on your one-way suicide mission, my brother would have to be released from the brig.”
“That’s not going to happen. He’s a murderer … not to mention he tried to kill the president of the United States more than once.”
“She wasn’t the president then. And he wasn’t trying to kill her. Sure, he’s got a hard-on for her … and, no offense, I don’t get it … but anyway, send him off to a deserted planet somewhere; drop him off someplace where he can’t get himself into any more trouble. That’s what I want.”
Truth be told, Jason wanted Captain Stalls, the psychopathic pirate, off The Lilly for good. Preferably, he’d want him dead. Thinking about it, he still wanted to kill the bastard with his own two hands. Bristol’s suggestion to drop him off on a deserted planet just might have some merit, though. He’d have to make sure it was someplace remote enough that he’d have zero chance of escape, and zero chance of another vessel coming anywhere near his location.
“HAB 12,” Jason said, finding it hard to keep from smiling.
“That’s a bit harsh. My brother wouldn’t last a day in there. He’d be Serapin chow.”
“It’s that or he gets transferred to a federal pen back on Earth. Let him live there among the other maniacs in a high-security ward. I’m sure he’ll make some nice friends. Bunk buddies.”
Bristol seemed to be mulling the idea around in his head.
“Out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll send him on his way with an RCM—retractable camp module,” Jason said.
“And a weapon,” Bristol added.
Jason shook his head, “No way.”
“Then no deal. He’ll need to defend himself from those fucking lizards.”
“Small plasma hand gun,” Jason said reluctantly. The truth was, there was no way Stalls could survive on HAB 12. This was the death sentence for Stalls he’d been waiting for. He watched Bristol pull himself up from the deck and dust off his jumpsuit. He placed the small tester into a toolbox.
“I have everything I need. I’m ready to go.”
Jason watched as Bristol retrieved a pack from the deck and slipped it over a shoulder.
“You knew I was coming here? Knew I was going to ask you to come along.”
Bristol shrugged again, “You popping up all over the ship … doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’d find your way down here, sooner or later.”
* * *
Bristol had Ricket’s ridiculously long code for accessing the HAB 12 portal and was in the process of entering it at the small access panel on its left.
Captain Stalls, hands bound in front of him, stood at the Zoo window, looking at the desert landscape beyond. The calm, arid environment looked no more dangerous than any other desert back on Earth. That is, if it weren’t for the old disabled utility vehicle sitting in the near distance, and the hundreds of Serapin bones scattered all about on the ground. Hell, except for those things, he could be looking into the Mojave Desert.
Three beeps and the portal window disappeared. Jason moved in front of Stalls and stood eye-to-eye with him. “We’ll know exactly where you are at all times. The security bracelet on your ankle provides precise location coordinates. Mess with the device and it will blow your leg off. Understand?”
Stalls didn’t answer, his expression one of exaggerated boredom.
Jason cut the plasti-cuffs from his wrists. Rizzo, standing to Stalls’ left, raised his multi-gun.
“As promised, here’s your RCM … they’re actually fairly comfortable. Don’t lose it.” Jason placed the paperback book-sized device into a rucksack. “In here is a change of clothes, thirty meal bars, a water distillation kit, canteen, and a plasma gun. I’ve included three extra power packs. When they’re used up, well, that’s it … hope you’re a fast runner.” Jason thrust the rucksack into Stalls’ chest.
Stalls took the rucksack and looked inside. He latched the top flap and pulled the rucksack over one shoulder. Bristol stood at the portal. “You have less than a minute to get inside.”
Stalls smiled and approached his brother. He gave Bristol a hug and said something into his little brother’s ear that Jason couldn’t make out. Stalls glanced back once, smiled, and stepped into Habitat 12.
Chapter 17
Jason walked with Mollie and Boomer—one on each side—toward the DeckPort. Petty Officer Miller walked several paces behind them.
“When will you be back?” Mollie asked.
“Not sure … probably in a few days.” Jason thought about his answer. He wanted to be honest with the girls, without scaring them. “Listen, I’m not going to sugarcoat this … you’ve both seen enough craziness to know the truth about these sorts of trips. Where I’m going … what I’ll be doing, will be dangerous.”
Boomer looked up at her father, but stayed quiet. He read the expression on her face.
“I just want you both to be prepared. I have no intention of getting myself hurt … or worse. Just be aware that it will be dangerous.”
“You’re scaring them, Captain. I think they get the idea,” Miller said from behind.
Boomer turned on Miller. “I’m not scared. Not even a little bit. My dad always comes back safely. So why don’t you stop butting in?”
Jason wasn’t overly concerned with Miller getting her feelings hurt by Boomer’s lashing out. By now, she was used to his highly expressive, girls … and she’d signed up for this post anyway. He pulled both girls close, one-armed hugs around each girl’s shoulder, and said, “Do me a favor. And I want you both to promise me this … that you won’t get into trouble while I’m gone. Your grandfather will be extremely busy. He’ll have no time for any of your shenanigans. If you have a problem, bring it to Petty Officer Miller,” Jason told them, looking over his shoulder at Miller and giving a quick
wink and smile.
They reached the captain’s quarters on the Minian, which, in addition to its ready room, contained a five-bedroom suite. “Okay, here we are. Grandpa’s not here … he’ll be back later this afternoon. In the meantime, be good.” He knelt down and gave both girls a hug and a kiss on the forehead. Standing, he looked at Miller. “Thank you for watching over them. Try to keep them from getting into too much trouble.”
* * *
The full assault team was present and waiting together for Jason’s arrival. He hurried over to the team and apologized for being late. He looked up to see a flash. The Starlight was hovering, twenty feet above, in the air. It slowly descended onto the Minian’s flight deck.
Jason did a quick headcount: Billy, Rizzo, Traveler, Sergeant Jackson, Powell, Hansen, and Bristol. Jason knew Grimes was inside, piloting the Starlight.
When the back hatch opened everyone began to file in. Jason caught Bristol’s eye: “When you and Ricket first developed this ship, were you able to include the latest tech … like the probability matrix, and the ability to decode and transmit Craing communications?”
Bristol stopped and thought about the question. “Yes.”
Jason waited for further explanation but none came. Times like this Jason really missed Ricket. Bringing up the rear and about to close the back hatch, Jason saw Perkins run into the flight deck.
“Captain!”
“What is it, XO?”
Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle Page 9