“Do not shoot him, Captain. I told you, I have this.”
“He’s all yours. I’m getting Ricket and Gaddy.” Jason moved past the two towering combatants and scurried down the spiral stairway three steps at a time. When he reached the last step, he figured he was thirty or forty feet below the mayhem going on above. The compartment he found himself in was nearly square, and all windows—like being in a large, perfectly clear, ice cube. Each window looked into a separate circular black pit—the four holding cells. Two were empty. The other two held his friends. He heard Ricket’s weak voice over the open channel: “Check on Gaddy … Captain … check on Gaddy first.”
“Will do. Hang in there, Ricket.” Jason looked for a way into Gaddy’s cell. He paced back and forth, looking for a doorway—a seam in the glass he could pry open. Nothing. He returned to the console in the center of the room and stared blankly at a myriad of levers, dials and antiquated meters. Shit. This could take all day. He stepped back to the glass partition. Gaddy’s still form lay in a heap at the far side of the second pit. Jason angled the muzzle of his multi-gun away from where she lay and fired. The glass partition held. Quickly calling up his HUD armaments menu he reviewed the settings and selected something called Thermal Charge. Jason stepped back and fired. The explosion knocked him off his feet, throwing him back and into the opposite glass partition. Again, his HUD warned of an impending loss of suit integrity.
Jason got to his feet and through a thick layer of smoke approached Gaddy’s holding cell. The partition was gone. He stepped into the pit, hearing fragments of glass crunch beneath his boots. Plasma fire coming from above indicated the battle was still raging on. Jason rushed to Gaddy’s side and knelt next to her still body. She faced away from him and he carefully resettled her body onto her back. She looked to be sleeping but he knew she wasn’t. Before he’d come down the stairs, her life icon had gone transparent, close to four minutes ago.
“Help her, Captain … you have to help her,” Ricket said over his NanoCom.
“She’s gone … there’s nothing I can—”
“You’ll need to shock her.”
“What do you mean?”
“… I’m taking control of your HUD, Captain. Do not interfere.”
Jason froze—and a cascade of overlapping HUD menus appeared, one after another, eventually stopping at a menu setting called:
Defibrillation: Pulseless Ventricular Tachycardia
“Captain, open Gaddy’s garment. Expose her chest … hurry.”
Grabbing two fistfuls of material, Jason tore open Gaddy’s dingy spacer’s jumpsuit.
“Place your fingertips onto her skin.”
Jason did as instructed. He saw the HUD menu setting select and immediately felt a current pulsate through the gloves of his battle suit. He looked at Gaddy’s face. There was no change. Her head still slumped lifelessly to the side.
“Keep your fingers where they are. I’m increasing the charge level.”
Again, Jason felt a strong current emanate from his fingertips; this time, Gaddy’s body contracted, going rigid in shock.
“What the flying fuck are you doing to me?” Gaddy’s head rose several inches—her eyes were open and looking up at him.
“And why are you copping a feel—”
Jason, at first, didn’t realize the emotional impact Gaddy’s dire situation had had on him. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly to his chest. Tears falling freely now, he opened his visor and kissed the top of her head. Eventually, he released her and saw she too was crying. The smile on her lips told him she would live. She would live!
“Stay here … I need to free Ricket.”
Gaddy nodded and pulled her torn jumpsuit back around her body. Jason got to his feet and returned to the center hub compartment. This time he used the center console as a shield before firing at the glass partition of Ricket’s holding cell.
The explosion was no less intense than the previous one. Jason wasted no time hurrying into the pit. Ricket was laid out on a metal table, his arms perpendicular to his body, like Christ on the cross. He was completely naked, his arms and legs bound by thick straps, at wrists and ankles. Jason took in the damage to Ricket’s flesh and a jagged breath caught in his chest. There were blackened layers of ruined, charred swatches covering virtually every inch of skin.
“It looks worse than it actually is … Captain. What you are seeing is the mind’s amazing power to physically manifest. I so believed the Mollmol was inflicting burns to my body’s epidermal layer that I actually manifested real burns. But right now my internal nanites are busy, restoring cellular—”
“Just remain still, Ricket. I suspect you’re in shock. Let me get you out of here.” Jason used his Ka-Bar to slice through Ricket’s restraining straps. Using care, he slid both hands underneath Ricket, one under his back, the other under his knees, then lifted him into his arms. “Keep still, my friend. We’re going to take care of you.”
Ricket’s eyes met his. Jason gave him a reassuring smile while inside his mind raged. He wanted to kill the Mollmol—the one called Trancus. Anger flashed and he wanted to scream for Traveler to stop … to keep the beast alive long enough so he could inflict his own brand of torment—in reciprocity for Ricket’s torturous ordeal.
Gaddy stood at the stairway. At the sight of Ricket her hands flew up and covered her mouth. “Oh, Ricket … I’m so, so sorry.”
But her words went unheard. Ricket, although alive, was now unconscious. Internal nanites or not, Jason was well aware he had little time left to phase-shift Ricket to the Starlight and into a medical bay. Gaddy, unable to move along with any sense of urgency, did her best to climb the stairs. Tempted to phase-shift them all to the landing above, Jason decided it was too dangerous, not knowing the full situation up there.
“Hold up here, Gaddy,” Jason said, when they reached the top steps. He’d been following much of the battle waging above them via his HUD and Billy’s mirrored helmet cam feed. They hadn’t taken on more losses—in fact, both the Pigmy Mollmols and the Craing combatants, those not already killed, had all run off. Only the battle between Traveler and Trancus continued on. They were still going at it.
Jason watched as the two exhausted opponents moved around, far slower now, yet they continued to inflict harsh damage on each other. Traveler was covered in blood. Jason wasn’t sure if the blood was his or belonged to the Mollmol. The one thing in Trancus’s favor earlier was no longer an issue. The Mollmol’s long black tail was conspicuously absent from its backside. Somehow Traveler had ripped it off the beast. Jason’s eyes located the tail, fifteen feet from the two fighters held in one another’s grasp. The tail continued to flop and slither, as if in a desperate attempt to find its way to its owner. “Nice touch, Traveler,” Jason said aloud.
The team joined Jason. Billy gathered up Gaddy into his arms and, though she protested at first, she eventually relaxed and looked grateful. Now, watching Traveler, it became clear to Jason who’d be victor of the brutal contest. Trancus was now on his knees and struggling for life itself. Then, in one final surge, Traveler brought a hammer-like fist down on the top of the Mollmol’s snake-like head. With a definitive crack, Trancus was dead. His lifeless body fell over backward.
Jason was just fine with Traveler achieving that righteous honor. The whole thing, pulling the shithead’s tail off, was a nice touch, too.
There was still much to do. Jason handed Ricket’s unconscious body to Jackson. “Sergeant, take Ricket and Gaddy to the Starlight. Get Ricket into the medical bay first thing.”
Billy set Gaddy down. She put a hand around Jackson’s arm and, seconds later, the three flashed away.
“You’re up, Bristol … it’s time you earned your keep.”
Chapter 22
Jason checked the mission timer on his HUD. “We need to move it along, Bristol … what’s it going to take to bring the AI under our control?”
Two minutes earlier, they’d phase-shifted back into the s
upervisor’s quarters. Bristol now sat at Gettling’s desk—accessing his terminal.
“It’s already under my control. No real sophistication here … no elegance. A five-year-old could have written this code.”
“Good. We need to get this vessel to a stop, ASAP,” Jason said, starting to pace.
“Working on it,” Bristol said, eyes intent upon the terminal.
Jason turned to greet Jackson, who’d phase-shifted back in a flash of light.
“Maybe we should bring in a five-year-old,” Billy interjected.
Bristol’s fingers stopped moving and his eyes looked up. “You want to do this, Billy? I’d be happy to let you try.”
“Just finish up, Bristol. Billy was only kidding around.” Jason threw Billy a cautionary expression.
“It’s already done,” Bristol replied, sitting back in his chair. “A few things, though. There’s no simple way to breach the hardwire connection that’s here.” Bristol pointed to a large metal conduit overhead. “We’ll have to provide directives via audio commands. Since the AI is programmed to only take orders from the Craing fleet’s high command, you’ll need to take on that role. I’ve got the audio feed muted in here … let me know when you’re ready to go.”
Jason nodded, “Go ahead.”
Bristol entered something, sat back, and gestured a thumbs up.
“Awaiting executive directives.” The female voice reminded Jason of his fifth grade vice- principle. He never liked the old battle-axe and he instinctively didn’t like this AI, either.
“Bring this vessel to a full stop,” Jason said.
“Improper protocol; rephrase the command, in accordance with necessary speech conventions.”
Jason glared at Bristol, who sat forward and muted the AI. “You’ll need to be more specific with your commands.”
“Okay, let me try it again.”
Bristol unmuted the audio.
“AI, this is Craing fleet high command … bring Dreathlor prison barge to a full stop.”
The AI seemed to be considering the command. “Matching voice harmonics … Confirmed. Bringing Dreathlor prison barge to a full stop. Awaiting next executive directive.”
Bristol muted the audio input again. “Looks like we’re already getting inquiries from those other ships.”
“Will they be able to countermand my orders?”
“No … the way I have it configured, your voice print is the only thing the AI now answers to.”
“I don’t suppose those individual ship commanders will take orders from this AI?”
“No way,” Bristol said.
“Fine. Then we’ll personally convince them what to do.” Jason brought up his virtual notebook, displaying the prison barge, and zoomed in on one of the heavy cruisers. “Bristol … you’ll be with me. You can manage our teams’ phase-shifts … connecting each to the necessary coordinate. Two teams—Billy, Rizzo and Jackson, you’ll take five cruisers, and Traveler, Bristol, Hansen, and I will take the other five. Bristol, you need to put us on the bridge of each of those cruisers, so start figuring out now how to do that.”
Jason saw Bristol in the midst of doing something on his HUD, his eyes darting from one location to another. Although he didn’t appear to be listening, Jason knew he was. “One more thing, Bristol,” he waited for Bristol to make eye contact again, “we’re going to instruct all the ship commanders just where to land their cruisers. Do you have optimal locations for them already calculated?”
“Do you also want me to wipe your—”
“Bristol … just answer the question,” Jason said.
“I’ll have it by the time you need it.” Bristol’s eyes were darting around his HUD again.
Jason waited several more seconds and was about to say something when Bristol held up a finger, indicating he still needed time. Five seconds later, he said, “Done. Both teams can phase-shift whenever you’re ready.”
“Remember, everyone, we have zero time for delays. We’ll do what we have to … understood?” Jason nodded toward Bristol. The two teams phase-shifted away simultaneously.
* * *
Jason, Traveler, Hansen, and Bristol arrived on the bridge of the first heavy cruiser. Traveler’s form materialized in the middle of a console that Jason hoped wasn’t important to her navigation. Startled yelps erupted from the Craing around them. Only half-occupied, the bridge looked identical to all other Craing heavy-cruiser bridges he’d seen in the past. Once Traveler disengaged himself, the three wasted no time striding over to the raised platform where the three commanding officers sat, their mouths agape. The fourth command chair was empty. Jason caught Traveler’s eye and nodded toward the chair. The rhino-warrior swung his heavy hammer over his head and let it come down on the empty seat. It flattened down to the size of a tortilla. More screams erupted, this time from the three officers. As they clambered to their feet, their hands came up in the universal gesture of surrender.
* * *
Jason and his team next phase-shifted, one after another, onto the other four cruisers’ bridges. All but one of the incursions was a complete success. The third phase-shift had been met with much heavier resistance. Hansen, who had phase-shifted in closest to six armed Craing soldiers, took plasma fire directly to his helmet and visor. Considering the protective nature of their battle suits, it was an unfortunate fluke—an unfortunate outcome for Hansen.
Updates over comms from Billy indicated his team’s visits to the other set of five Craing cruisers were even better—with no injuries. Apparently, Sergeant Jackson was almost as impressive as Traveler when it came to demonstrating potential pain and violence. One unexpected outcome to their surprise visits was the officers’ requests to be taken prisoner. Over the proceeding weeks, word had widely spread about the tyrannical nature of fleet commander Ot-Mul … Ot-Mul and his indestructible four battle droids. Jason knew first hand how only one of those mechanical beasts could evoke terror; four would be a nightmare. One more obstacle he’d have to overcome in the upcoming days.
Bristol, good to his word, had all landing positions figured out. One by one, the cruiser commanders were directed just where to attach their big warships onto the hull of Dreathlor prison barge. With a bit of maneuvering, Bristol had them situate each vessel so its big drives were pointing in the precise orientation, allowing for maximum rear thrust. The individual ship commanders knew how to clamp on to the prison barge’s hull, so their vessels wouldn’t fly off into space when their drives were energized. All in all, the entire maneuver, with the ten warships, took close to two hours. They had less than a half an hour before they’d have company.
Bristol set up communication linkage with each ship commander. He was adamant their timing needed to be perfect and, since Jason’s crew hadn’t arrived with the necessary equipment to take control of the ships remotely, they’d have to do so in a far cruder manner.
Jason was the last one to phase-shift back onto the Starlight. Beforehand, they worked out a process where each man would phase-shift into a specific location at the back section of the vessel. No one was to dillydally, once there, or he’d find himself getting violently knocked out of the way by the next team member phase-shifting in. One apparent built-in safeguard though: It didn’t permit a phase-shift of organic matter into other organic matter. But the resulting shove from the same could result in broken bones, or worse.
Jason arrived on the Starlight to see Ricket standing in the narrow corridor before him. Seeing him alive and, with the exception of several large scabs on his face and arms, looking almost normal, was a great relief.
“Captain, I’d like to talk to you about Bristol’s calculations.”
“Well, hello to you too, Ricket,” Jason said with a smile.
Jason saw Bristol at the bow of the Starlight seated next to Grimes.
“Bristol, get those commanders firing up their drives. Let’s get this show on the road!”
On his way up the aisle, Jason passed by the medical bay. He slowed and
saw Gaddy being attended to. Another ten paces and he stood between Grimes and Bristol. Out the front observation window Jason saw one of the heavy cruisers firing up its drives. Lieutenant Grimes changed the view perspective to include another three of the cruisers. These and seven more were all throttling up. Jason turned and saw Ricket by his side. “Is this going to work?”
“I do not believe so, Captain. As I was trying to tell you, their combined thrust, along with that of Dreathlor’s own large ion engines, still won’t be sufficient to arrive at the wormhole in time. The calculations were incorrect.”
“Well, not everyone has a computer for a brain, Ricket,” Bristol said irritably, without turning around.
Grimes changed the display again. Dreathlor prison barge now took up the entire view. Bristol, using his NanoCom to communicate with each of the commanding officers, was talking fast, his squeaky voice spewing off directives. He’d earlier designated each ship a number, from one to ten. He now ordered ship nine to throttle back ten percent, and ship two to kick it up twenty percent.
“He’s got the prison barge going in the right direction, Captain,” Grimes volunteered. “But
Ricket’s right; although we’re somewhat ahead of the thirty break-off ships, we’re not achieving the speed necessary to reach the wormhole before Ot-Mul.” She changed the display perspective again to show the prison ship’s location in relation to the pursuing thirty Craing warship armada and then changed it again to show the correlation between Dreathlor prison barge and Ot-Mul’s massive Drac-Vin forces.
Chapter 23
“Captain, sorry I didn’t see this before. It’s pretty small. Hard to detect, but it makes perfect sense that he’d do it—”
“What is it, Lieutenant?” Jason asked.
“According to my long-range scans, Ot-Mul has dispatched one of his four battle droids, along with those thirty breakaway vessels now in pursuit. As I said, it makes sense … you know, since he’s having a problem keeping his forces together. He’s sending along a watchdog.”
Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle Page 12