“It’s a heavy destroyer class vessel, Admiral,” Orion said. “I’ve never seen more weaponry on one vessel. It’s a killing machine.”
“Distance?”
“Close. We’re at thirty miles and holding.”
“Captain … or should I say Omni Reynolds?” he corrected himself, rolling his eyes.
“Not in position yet … needs another minute or two, sir.”
“We may not have—” The admiral’s words were interrupted by the equivalency of all hell breaking loose.
He heard Orion report the obvious: The attack had commenced. Captain Oz hadn’t even given the surrounded U.S. fleet an option to negotiate, or even to surrender.
You’ve made your bed, asshole … now sleep in it, he thought to himself.
“Omni’s in position … he’s given the order to attack,” Orion said.
“Contact every fleet commander to move into attack position. All ships are to open fire!”
* * *
Jason listened to Orion’s voice, giving the passed-along orders to all fleet commanders. The battle was on. Jason felt something on his left arm and, looking down, found Boomer adjusting his enhancement shield.
“There. That will give you more accuracy.”
“Thanks, kiddo.” Jason noticed Traveler studying his little three-sided shield. “Play your cards right, big guy, and I’ll get you one of these sometime.”
Traveler snorted his disapproval.
They currently stood within the narrow confines of the engine room. It was loud there, everything slick and over-glistening with oil. Jason wasn’t sure what the propulsion technology on this vessel was, but it certainly wasn’t clean. Four Carrion crewmembers lay dead on the deck. They’d been taken by surprise, but had acted quickly, drawing their sidearm weapons. Unfortunately for them, they weren’t quick enough.
“Let’s head out,” Jason ordered, hurrying toward the compartment’s open hatchway. He halted before what appeared to be a central passageway. His HUD showed at least twenty Carrion crewmembers ahead in this passageway alone. He called up the pre-loaded ship’s layout—a best-guess schematic the Parcical’s AI put together that, thus far, was pretty accurate.
Jason spoke into the open channel: “There’s another compartment fifty feet forward, along this same passageway. I’m going to move us over there.” Everything flashed white as he phase-shifted them as a group.
“We’re in jail! You put us in jail, Dad.”
She was right. Jason had phase-shifted them into one of ten confinement cells. Their cell, and the others too, was empty, so no one had noted their sudden appearance. Jason reached a hand out to check if there was an invisible energy field. There wasn’t one. “Come on,” he said, and they moved to the open hatch entry and looked out into the passageway. His HUD showed this part of the ship to be pretty much deserted, though up ahead, there were hundreds of red icons—some stationary—others moving about. A barracks.
“That’s a bigger bite than we can chew … get ready for another phase-shift.” He looked for another compartment to flash into, one closer to the bridge. He’d originally intended to phase-shift directly onto the bridge, but had discovered there were an inordinate number of security droids—both on the bridge itself, as well as stationed nearby—at the bow of the vessel. To find themselves disarmed or disabled before actually confronting Captain Oz wasn’t acceptable. The problem, though, was that there wasn’t another unoccupied compartment between them and the bridge.
He was being hailed. “Go ahead, Orion.”
“The U.S. fleet is taking a brutal beating, Cap. No damage to our Caldurian vessels, but the U.S. fleet is down to seventeen ships. Two more are about to lose shields.”
“And the Carrion?”
“We’re firing on her and she’s returning fire … her shields are taking a beating … she’ll be in trouble shortly. There’s something else you need to be aware of … I’m detecting an old style fusion reactor on board. Outdated drive technology that’s looking like it may soon go critical. It blows … it could take everything in local space with her … including us over here. You need to get out of there, Captain, and we need to get far away from that ship.”
“I need a few more minutes. We’ll get out in time, I promise. Let me talk to the admiral.”
A moment later the older man’s voice was on the line. “A bit busy here …” the admiral grumbled.
“Dad, go ahead … have three Master Class vessels phase-shift directly into the U.S. fleet’s fray; seems they’ll need more firepower.”
“Do you know what one hundred and fifty enemy warships look like? Hell, there’s not a Master Class vessel that’s not already fully engaged.”
“I’m more interested in protecting our current assets, than in destroying theirs. It’s not about retribution, Dad.”
The connection went dead. Jason did manage to get that one point across, now he’d just have to trust that the commander standing on the Parcical’s bridge would make the right decision. He turned to his team: “Things are heating up … time to take the direct approach. If we don’t get to Oz quickly enough, we’ll have his barracks, full of security, moving in on us from behind.”
“How we doing this, Cap?” Rizzo asked.
“I want to draw the security droids on the bridge out and away from Captain Oz. So we’re heading straight up Central Avenue. It’s time to storm the bridge. Jackson and Traveler, I want you two on point … plow us a clear path into the bridge. It’s about two hundred feet forward, at the end of this passageway. Rizzo and Billy watch our six. Boomer, stay with me in the middle of the pack. Let’s move.”
They headed into the central passage and soon were running flat out. Almost immediately, klaxon alarms sounded from overhead. As expected, security droids began to stream out from the bridge, as well as from two adjacent hatchways, on both sides. So far so good.
“Cap … we’ve got company coming from our six.”
“Keep them at bay; that’s your job, Billy,” Jason retorted.
Plasma fire erupted—forward and behind them—and Jason could already feel the effects of crossfire on his battle suit. The security droids were three-legged affairs, with revolving plasma-gun-turret torsos, minus heads or arms. The damn things scurried about so quickly, it was hard to get a beat on them.
Jackson’s and Traveler’s forward progress slowed. To stay there, even another minute, would result in certain death for all six. But Jason’s plan had already worked. No more droids stormed from the bridge entrance, and icons on his HUD showed all but five had been drawn out of the bridge. “Get ready for a phase-shift,” Jason said. Two seconds later they were standing within the Carrion’s bridge compartment.
A quick glance at his HUD told him there were fifteen combatants on the bridge—five were security droids.
“Secure the damn entrance … no one gets in here!” Jason yelled, as he raised his multi-gun and let loose a constant barrage of plasma fire at a quickly approaching security droid. He saw Boomer had found herself in the worst possible position, standing right in front of three droids that were letting her have it with all the firepower at their disposal. She took some hits before leaping up and out of the way. Her enhancement shield simultaneously emanated purple disruption waves down at the droids from above.
Jason’s droid erupted in a small ball of fire, while its revolving gun turret began to spin, uncontrollably, around and around. And then Jason spotted Captain Oz, standing at the back of the bridge. He was tall and clean shaven, had sandy blond hair—and the brightest green eyes Jason had ever seen. Green eyes that held their steady gaze directly on him. Two bridge crewmen stood before him, their sidearms drawn. Jason shot them both and waited for them to fall to the deck.
Oz seemed far calmer, considering his current situation, than Jason expected. In fact, he looked more bemused than nervous.
“Captain Reynolds, I presume?”
“I go by Omni these days—but sure, captain works, too.”<
br />
Jason heard his father’s voice in his ear … “We’re about twenty seconds from blowing that tin can up … her shields are falling. Get the hell out … get out now, Jason!”
Jason approached Captain Oz and said one word: “Gotcha.”
The smile briefly left the captain’s face—his seeming façade of confidence broken.
“Time’s up, asshole. You lost and this ship is about to become space dust. Surrender now and I won’t destroy the rest of your fleet.”
Captain Oz looked as if he were weighing his options. Suddenly, having regained his composure and looking cool as a cucumber, he said, “Omni Reynolds … go ahead and enjoy this little victory. Savor it. Truth is, I’ve been looking for an opponent with a glimmer of intelligence. It seems I’ve found one.”
“Get … out … of … there!” Jason heard the admiral’s nervous voice in his ear.
Jason could see the bridge was relatively still. It was now theirs. Boomer, now standing at his side, was taking in the interaction between the two enemy commanders. Jason wanted her, and the others, phase-shifted away now, before the ship blew apart.
The entrance to the bridge was still a battleground, with Billy, Traveler and Jackson firing their weapons pretty much non-stop, but holding their ground.
The deck shifted beneath Jason’s feet. He nearly lost his balance, but managed to regain his footing. He asked one final time, “What’s it going to be?”
Captain Oz took a casual step backward.
“Don’t move—don’t move an inch.”
But it was too late; Oz did move. He backed himself into a curved, tubular inset part of the back bulkhead. It seemed so nondescript Jason hadn’t even noticed it. Captain Oz leaned backward and crossed his arms over his chest. In a blur, he was spinning away, gone from view. Next came a loud clang, and Jason saw the newly-made opening where Oz stood mere seconds before. Oz, off in the distance, was climbing into an escape pod. By the time Jason raised his multi-gun, the pod had gone from sight, and the vacuum of space had begun to suck out all existing atmosphere from the bridge. “Damn!”
Jason phase-shifted his team away.
Chapter 47
Lorchire 555 Planetary Chain, Gracow CD1 System
Parcical, Bridge
__________________________
Jason entered the Parcical’s bridge. One glance up at the display told him the battle still raged on … was raging on … on multiple fronts. The admiral, seated in the command chair, was currently barking off orders to one of the newly assigned, and highly nervous-looking, ship commanders up on the display.
“No! Hold your position, damn it, Perkins. You’ve got help on the way. Concentrate your fire on those three ships on your stern … protect your backside, man!”
The admiral noticed Jason and started to get up. Jason placed a hand on his shoulder. “No, no … stay where you are. You’ve obviously got everything well under control.” Jason took a seat in one of the secondary command chairs. The admiral, so engrossed in his command, didn’t even look at Jason before turning to bark off another command, this one to the captain of the Sagittarius. Jason was having a hard time recalling just who that was. He looked over to Orion who, like everyone else on the bridge, seemed pulled in multiple directions. She glanced at him, then surprised him with a quick wink and smile.
Apparently, things really were under control. Jason leaned back and took in the logistical display above him. He counted fifteen U.S. warships, clustered in the middle of the fray. They’d lost two more warships, but still seemed to be holding their own. It sounded like the Minian was having some difficulty, but the other Caldurian warships were still active … and accounted for. The Darion Cartel fleet was not doing nearly as well. Oz’s three attack groups were facing tremendous firepower from the Master Class warships. Jason’s plan had come together surprisingly well. He estimated, after doing a quick count, that the enemy had lost nearly forty warships and those remaining were taking on heavy fire from all sides.
Seaman Gordon abruptly turned in his seat. “Sirs … I’m getting multiple hails … requests coming in: Five enemy ship commanders want to surrender.”
The admiral suddenly stood and punched a fist into his other open palm. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” He spun around and, looking surprised at seeing Jason sitting nearby, held both arms out wide, in a dramatic gesture—as if to say … did I handle this or what?
“You did good, Dad. I can’t say I could have done any better.”
The admiral sat back down and was immediately engrossed in the happenings of the battle before him.
Jason’s only regret was not capturing, or killing, Captain Oz. That would have to wait for another time. He was fairly sure Oz was already light-years away by now. The good news was his fleet was pretty much toast, which meant the Darion Cartel’s land grab was completely upended. All in all, not a bad day’s work.
“Cap?”
Jason spun toward Orion. She had two fingers to her ear and told whomever she was speaking to to hold on. “Cap … heavy injury reports are coming in from all ships … both ours and the enemy’s. Overflow casualties are coming into the Parcical. Also … Boomer’s got minor injuries.”
* * *
Jason left the bridge, knowing things there were pretty well in hand. If he didn’t catch a few hours of sleep he’d literally crash and burn, sheer exhaustion finally catching up with him. First he wanted to check on Boomer and Rizzo; although both had experienced first- and second-degree burns from plasma fire, they would be fine. About to enter Medical he saw something that didn’t make immediate sense … didn’t add up. Why was Hanna down the hallway, talking to someone? She wasn’t here. She was on the SpaceRunner, light-years from here. He blinked twice and she was gone. God … I really need sleep.
“Dad? Are you just going to stand there?”
Jason turned back to the entrance of Medical and saw Boomer sitting on a rolling stool, her arm being attended to by a med-technician. A white bandage was already on her other arm.
“Where’s Rizzo?” Jason asked, glad to see Boomer looking no worse for wear. In fact, she appeared downright giddy.
“He’s come and gone …” the med-tech said, now turning toward Jason.
It wasn’t a med-tech.
“Are you just going to stand there, or can a girl get a kiss from her fiancé?”
Jason stood there, his mouth ajar, unable to speak or move.
Dira patted Boomer’s head and said, “You’re fine.” She smiled and walked up to Jason, so close he could see those incredible little flecks of amber and violet in her wide open beautiful eyes.
“Yes, my love … I really am alive.” She slipped her arms beneath his, pulling him closer to her. She kissed him, kept on kissing him, for a long time. Eventually, she pulled away. “Are you okay?”
“How …?”
Dira took in a long breath and began, “Well, I was unconscious. Truth is … I never knew what happened to me. Not until I woke up.”
“He did it,” Boomer said, pointing her finger toward the small person entering Medical.
Jason turned to see the familiar little being, with his odd-shaped head. He too was smiling.
“Ricket? You managed this?”
Dira said, “Apparently, they were about to pull the plug. Even your ex-wife was chafing at the bit to yank the thing right out of the wall.”
As if on cue, Hanna and Leon appeared, entering Medical arm in arm. Hanna said, “But then, just in the nick of time, Ricket had one more grand idea up his sleeve.”
Ricket said, “I’m glad I was able to help, Captain. I’m glad I was able to bring her home to you.”
Epilogue
It was late. Except for a limited night shift crew, the ultra-modern Parcical was running as quiet as a whisper. Ricket liked it like this—he was alone with his thoughts. Alone with his tinkering.
He sat patiently at the workbench. The only light present within Norwell’s workshop was coming from a sapphire beam coming
from high above. Ricket contemplated the square, glossy-black device situated right in front of him. He turned the device and looked at its backside. No difference. He let out a breath, feeling stumped. He wondered if this thing was, or was holding within it, the answer to a very important problem; the worsening degradation issues occurring with cloned Zip accelerators. The captain had described the subterranean meeting between Alurians and Caldurains. How the Alurians were prepared to offer this … this thing, to the Caldurians. Was it a ruse? Perhaps this is simply an empty box—and the Alurians never had any intention at all of working again with the Caldurians, their past enemies.
Ricket sat back and let his mind wander. It had been a mere twenty-eight hours since the battle with the Darion Cartel, and Captain … Omni … Reynolds had ordered the slow process of transporting all warship assets, including the newly acquired Darion Cartel vessels, back to the Sol System. It saddened Ricket that so many had lost their lives here … and he briefly wondered if he’d ever witness true peace within his lifetime. He certainly hadn’t in the more than two hundred years he’d been alive thus far. He let out a weary breath and brought his attention back to the issue at hand. The issue that had brought the fleet of Caldurian warships back from somewhere within the multiverse in the first place and, undoubtedly, would keep them coming back until it was no longer possible. Again, he turned the black box around.
“Any luck with that thing?”
Ricket jumped at the sound of Dira’s soft voice behind. She came up beside Ricket and leaned her elbows on the workbench. She stared at the box with a furrowed brow.
“Could you not sleep, Dira?” Ricket asked.
“No. I think I’m all sleeped out. Thought I’d do a little exploring … see what all the hubbub is about with this new ship.”
“Warm milk, I hear, can be of help to humans unable to sleep.”
Ricket (Star Watch Book 2) Page 29
