Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Boomer looked around the deck at the carnage she’d caused. She felt bad for what she’d done. She didn’t know how a girl her age was supposed to feel after having done something so … what was the word … cut-throat? But it was either shoot or be captured. She turned her attention back to her HUD. She was finally getting the hang of it. She easily found the phase-shift menu again and went to work figuring out the coordinates settings. Then she called up the proximity overlay screen. She toggled it on and instantly a faint line diagram of the ship showed her position and, more importantly, where her mother, Mollie and Dira were being held in actual pinpoint reference to everything else. Ten seconds later, there was a bright white flash and she was gone.

  Chapter 35

  Mere seconds before Jason could give the command to phase-shift away, The Lilly was struck by repeated plasma fire.

  “All hell’s breaking out, Captain,” Orion said, not taking her eyes from the tactical console. “The battle’s on … they’re coming from all flanks. Locally, the Tigress, Rosenthal, and Gordita are under attack by four Craing cruisers and a battle droid.”

  “On screen!” Jason had been afraid this would happen. Those who meant the most to him were held captive by Ot-Mul, thousands of miles away—but, for now, he couldn’t abandon this position. Added to that, the Gordita, a heavy cruiser named by Mollie, held a special place in his heart. The old Craing ship and her crew had once saved his bacon and he’d like to return the favor.

  “Cap … the war is on. Virtually every Allied ship … all our fleets … are engaged in fighting the Drac-Vin. And more enemy warships are en route to our position.”

  Of course they are, Jason thought. Crap! There’d be no ducking out for a quick rescue mission anytime soon. “Listen up, everyone … we’ve learned a lot over the last few years. We know how to defeat the Craing. We’re smarter and far more capable. Gunny, synchronize your actions with the Helm. Don’t waste time trying to bring down their shields. We’re going to conduct four consecutive phase-shifts that will put us right in the middle of each cruiser’s bridge compartment. Is that clear?”

  Orion and McBride exchanged quick glances. Jason watched as Ricket entered the bridge and moved to his side. He half expected Ricket to object, but no objection came. “Do it! Go!”

  McBride was bent over the helm console—still working out the phase-shift coordinates. Gunny was now standing and, Jason guessed, probably beefing up their shielding to key or vulnerable areas around The Lilly’s hull. She turned toward Jason. “We can do four phase-shifts but we’ll need to recharge after that … don’t forget, we also have that droid to contend with.”

  “You have your orders, Gunny.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Jason watched the overhead display. The three gleaming white U.S. warships were taking a beating from the four, nearly identical, drab, brownish-gray Craing cruisers … but not from the droid. Why is it just sitting there? Why hasn’t the droid attacked?

  “Ready!” McBride said.

  “Go,” Jason repeated.

  The first phase-shift took them from open space into darkness. The overhead display showed the inside, the guts, of the first Craing cruiser; off to the side, an exposed portion—open to space—could be seen where the Craing ship’s bridge used to be. Atmosphere was already rushing outside from where The Lilly breached the vessel’s hull. A whirlwind of unsecured equipment pieces, and more than a few bodies, flew towards several gaping fractures. The Lilly’s hull instantly displaced whatever matter it came into contact with. Then the second flash occurred and, once again, their overhead display showed the inside of another Craing cruiser. This time they seemed to have phase-shifted directly into the middle of the cruiser’s bridge—superimposed on top of it. Jason figured the crew’s death was instantaneous. After completing two more phase-shifts, two more bright-white flashes, The Lilly returned to open space.

  “Report,” Jason said.

  “All four Craing cruisers are down for the count, Captain. The Tigress, Rosenthal, and Gordita have taken on damage, but they’re still in the fight.”

  Jason brought his attention back to the battle droid, which hadn’t veered from its position. And then, with incredible speed, it did move.

  “Droid’s engaging the Rosenthal, Captain,” Orion barked.

  “Target that droid,” Jason commanded. Before further orders could leave his lips, the battle droid flew headlong into the Rosenthal’s mid section—breaching her hull and disappearing from view. Not too unlike The Lilly’s action against the four Craing warships.

  Orion added a new segment onto the overhead display and Jason could see the droid moving inside the ship’s structure—like a parasite eating its victim from within.

  Jason knew the U.S. warship was already lost. “Nuke that ship, along with the droid.”

  Orion wasted no time firing four nuclear-tipped missiles. At the close distance of three hundred miles, the Rosenthal became a ball afire in less than two seconds. In the vacuum of space, the flames dissipated nearly as quickly as they’d begun.

  “Droid’s still alive and kicking, Captain,” Orion said.

  All eyes were on the display. The battle droid, looking no worse for wear, was making for the Tigress. Damn it to hell!

  “Captain, perhaps now’s a good time to send out the MagBots?” Ricket asked.

  Jason at first almost ignored the interruption, then turned toward Ricket. “They’re ready? Now?”

  “Yes, Captain. I’ve integrated their dispersal into tactical. They fire from missile tubes four and five.”

  Gunny didn’t wait for Jason’s command. “Firing tubes four and five!” She turned toward Ricket, “Do you fire a Magbot?”

  Ricket nodded. “Although you probably didn’t need to fire both tubes. I believe you just emptied our entire arsenal.”

  Jason was only half-listening to their discussion. His eyes were on the above display and the tiny little swarm about to overtake the larger, now slowing, battle droid, which had turned to engage the MagBots.

  “Zoom,” Jason said.

  The feed, now full frame, showed in incredible detail both the battle droid and the close to one thousand smaller, mechanical droids. The latter moved in unison, like a flock of birds, or a swarm of bees. At the last moment, the MagBots split into two, then three, separate groups. The battle droid fired its plasma weapon, its turret head spinning left and right, picking off MagBots one at a time. As the three swarms overtook the battle droid it moved into the black cluster—all becoming one—in an almost fluid-like dance.

  “The combined gravitational properties of the MagBots have brought the battle droid under their directional control, Captain.”

  “I can see that, Ricket. They appear to have distracted it … but the damn thing is still a threat … still lethal.”

  Ricket gestured toward the display: “They are small and no match for the battle droid on their own, but massed together like this, they are quite powerful.”

  Then Jason noticed the MagBots were using their magnetic properties, singly, to attach themselves onto the battle droid. Some were still fired on, destroyed by the battle droid’s lethal plasma gun, but far less frequently. As if wearing a thick black cloak, the battle droid became totally engulfed. Astonished, Jason continued to watch, as the battle droid became nothing more than a ball.

  “What’s happening now?” Jason asked.

  “The battle droid is expending huge amounts of energy to free itself. It cannot. It will completely exhaust its power reserves in a matter of minutes.”

  “That’s wonderful, Ricket! You’ve come up with a way to defeat these things.”

  “I’m sorry to say that what you’ve just observed will not, in all likelihood, happen again. That battle droid and the other two remaining droids have been in constant contact. They will not fall prey again to a trap like this one. They will adapt.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Jason said, instantly discouraged.

  “But they
do have a few other tricks up their sleeves … is that the correct phrase, Captain?”

  Jason didn’t answer his question. Instead, he posed one of his own. “Are those MagBots still viable?”

  “No, Captain. Like the battle droid, they have exhausted their power reserves.”

  “You have more cooking?”

  “Many more. You’ll have another batch here in The Lilly in nine minutes.”

  “Captain … ten Craing cruisers approaching.”

  Ricket placed a hand on Jason’s sleeve. “Captain, may I have that one?”

  “Which one?”

  “That battle droid.”

  “Why? It’s dead … useless.”

  “Oh, no. Not useless. I may be able to reprogram it. Manufacture a replacement power cell.”

  “Then yes, Ricket, you most certainty can have it. Have Grimes phase-shift a shuttle there, and Billy or Rizzo can grab it. They’ll need to hurry, though. We’re about to have company.”

  Chapter 36

  Ot-Mul watched with frustration as his second battle droid was incapacitated—neutralized by some kind of droid swarm, and then snatched up by a shuttle deployed from The Lilly. The Assailant stayed undetected while it moved stealthily into position. Temporarily hidden from the ongoing fight on the front line, Ot-Mul couldn’t take his eyes off his main objective for any extended timeframe … but he needed to ensure Captain Reynolds continued to suffer for his past actions too.

  While his heavily armed ship could not phase-shift like the two Caldurian vessels, the Assailant could do something they could not—it could become invisible. The warship’s cloaking shields had proven to be a game-changer. You can’t shoot what you can’t visibly see or what you don’t detect on sensors. But he was not ready to engage Captain Reynolds directly; not yet. He would, for now, continue to shred the Allied forces and to keep his two remaining battle droids at arms’ length from the Caldurian ships.

  After checking on the status of the overall battle, Ot-Mul was pleased to see the Allied forces weren’t faring well, especially in the skirmishes where his battle droids were active. And where the Assailant had participated. And added to that, his successful capture of the captain’s family and the one called Dira—he knew the captain must be emotionally wrung by now. Good. He let a rare smile cross his small slit of a mouth. This was what he’d aimed for. He had to savor these moments—not rush to end things. That’s when mistakes happened. Now, he needed to up the stakes. He knew the Allied forces called his combined fleets, from space comms chatter, Drac-Vin. Ot-Mul said it out loud, “Drac-Vin.” It had a nice sound to it.

  “Admiral, our cruisers are approaching. Shall we join the fight?”

  “No, Captain Gee. For now, I’m satisfied keeping The Lilly occupied. Our eight ships are expendable. Let’s just hope their captains aren’t totally incompetent, as I need a little more time. Bring us back to the front line.”

  * * *

  Admiral Reynolds split his time between the bridge and the ready room. He was responsible for captaining the Minian when engaged in battle, while his high military ranking and experience conferred upon him the top leadership position—supreme commander in charge of the Allied forces’ overall strategy. He rushed back to the ready room where three officers—Captain Michaels, Captain Jones, and Lieutenant Commander Richards—sat around the conference table locked in heated discussion.

  “They’re fucking wiping us out, all along the Montrang system … look for yourselves,” Captain Michaels shouted at the other two. He got to his feet and stood in front of the primary display and pointed to the logistical view of a section of space. Clearly, red enemy icons outnumbered their light blue ones. The disparity was continuing to grow as he stood there. “We just lost two more light cruisers in the time it took me to stand up. We’re spread too thin.” Michaels looked relieved to see the admiral enter. “Sir … we need to pick our battles … not attempt to take them on from every flank.”

  “Thank you for your input, but put a sock in it, for now. There is reason behind what seems like obvious madness, Captain. We hold a strong visible presence at each one of our strategic positions. We are losing assets, yes, but our current positioning also provides another critical function … we’re keeping the enemy occupied until we can successfully deploy a counter attack.”

  “What counter attack? When does that happen? Because at this rate, we haven’t anything left to go against the enemy with.”

  “Ricket has the Minian’s phase-synthesizer churning out a new secret weapon, something called MagBots … lots and lots of the things.”

  “Excuse my language, Admiral, but where the hell are they? I won’t have a fleet to return to in ten minutes.”

  “Just settle down, Captain; getting your panties in a knot won’t accomplish anything.” But, the truth was, the admiral was equally frustrated. He brought two fingers to his ear and hailed Ricket.

  “Go for Ricket.”

  “The MagBots?”

  “I had to halt their production, Admiral. I’ve changed the code so the Bots can be more autonomous as well as adaptive—”

  The admiral cut him off mid-sentence. “Don’t spout that technical bullshit to me right now, Ricket. I need those things now, and I need a hell of a lot of them.”

  “The first of the MagBots are being phase-shifted into the Minian’s weapons ordnance depository as we speak, Admiral. Please instruct your bridge crew to be judicious in their deployment. Just a few go a long way with these Bots … where a thousand can do the job well, ten thousand easily overkills.”

  “I understand. How many do we have to work with?”

  “A few million, and counting. These Bots cannot be produced on the fly—phase-synthesized—as most of the Minian’s other ordnances are. Too complicated. Also, please realize this large quantity of Bots won’t go as far as you would think … not when dealing with tens of thousands of enemy warships … not to mention, their two remaining battle droids.”

  “Fine. How are things going on The Lilly?”

  “No damage; we’re engaging four, excuse me, now three, Craing vessels while our phase-shift system recharges.”

  “I want to know the instant that happens. The Lilly’s needed elsewhere.”

  “I’ll let the captain know, sir.”

  “Thank you, Ricket.” The admiral cut the connection and turned back to his three commanders. “Looks like we’re back in business. At the very least, we should be ready to even things up a little. I need to know the hot spots … where we’re most vulnerable … not just where your own assets are located. The Minian will phase-shift in, deploy MagBots, then move on to the next hot spot. You have three minutes to come up with a deployment strategy and get it off to my helm commander.” The admiral didn’t wait for a response. He’d been hearing the voice of his bridge tactical officer, Lieutenant Porter, in his NanoCom—there were incoming fighter drones.

  * * *

  The admiral entered the bridge, his eyes leveled on the overhead display.

  “They really want to bring down the Minian, sir. Enough so, they’ve redeployed close to three thousand warships to our current position. Their combined force of drone fighters alone comes to ten thousand. This is a major assault, Admiral,” Porter informed him from tactical.

  The admiral appraised his own, significantly smaller, assets on the logistical display: a mix of five hundred cruisers, fifty smaller destroyers, and one dreadnaught. They couldn’t stay in their present location, opposing the enemy, and still deploy MagBots at strategic locations throughout the Allied forces.

  “We’re not staying.”

  The bridge went quiet—all heads turned toward the admiral. The admiral’s temporary XO Captain Craft looked ready to come unhinged. “Hold on, Admiral. Leave now and you’re putting a death sentence—”

  “Spare me the lecture, Captain,” the admiral said. “First things first. Tactical … deploy one hundred thousand MagBots. Direct them evenly into one hundred of the closest-appro
aching warships. Deploy our own Caldurian fighter drones; they shouldn’t have a problem going up against the Craing fighter drones.” The admiral addressed the comms station. “Seaman Peralta, contact the others … let them know we’re not abandoning them … that we’ll be back … just as soon as we make some deliveries.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Helm, do you have the deployment coordinates from Captain Michaels?”

  “Aye, sir. Just in.”

  The admiral turned back to Porter at Tactical. “MagBots?”

  “Deploying now, sir.”

  He turned his attention upward, toward the wraparound display, and watched on a zoomed-in feed as several heavy cruisers came into contact with what looked like a swarm of bees. Thousands of bees. The display segment again zoomed in. The little MagBots were moving in tight unison—swirling—funneling around several of the big Craing warships.

  “What the fu—” Seaman Peralta caught himself mid-swear and shut his mouth.

  The admiral was equally astonished. The grouped together MagBots traveled at incredible speeds, exerting magnetic pulses and creating powerfully disruptive fields. And then it happened: One of the Drac-Vin heavy cruisers began to waver—then slowly spin lengthwise, stubby wingtip over wingtip. One by one, five other nearby cruisers started to exhibit the same phenomenon.

  “The centrifugal force … G-forces … alone will kill everyone on board,” Peralta said.

  Now, twenty heavy cruisers were spinning, and the MagBots moved out, exiting the now- disabled vessels—moving toward other Craing ships within the fleet.

  “Drac-Vin have their hands full here. Let’s hope our drone fighters fare as well. Helm, phase-shift us to the first of our drop-in coordinates.”

  “Aye, sir. Phase-shifting now.”