Glory for Sea and Space (Star Watch Book 4)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  “I can tell you that right now,” Stone said. “Two … maybe three max.” She too was still gazing up overhead—transfixed—her blonde bangs covering half her face. “They look … human, Captain.”

  Jason used his NanoCom to hail Dira.

  “How about a little warning next time you plan to do something like that,” she said.

  “Sorry! Things got a little crazy. Are you okay?”

  “Other than receiving a bruised tailbone from the fall I took, I’m fine.”

  “Good.” He cut the connection, took a seat, and hailed the one person he knew would give him a realistic report of what was truly going on with the Parcical.

  “Go for Gunny,” she said. “Cap … kind of in the middle of things here.”

  “I don’t care. Whisper if you have to, or take a potty break. I need to know why my father is using the Parcical to go up against an entire fleet.”

  When she spoke again, her voice was hushed. “The Craing have taken total control. There is no longer a Sahhrain fleet. I guess what the Sahhrain did to the Blues, the Craing have now done to the Sahhrain. Multiple deceptions …”

  “I can’t believe Gaddy would do …”

  “Hold on—”

  Jason assumed Gunny was speaking with the Omni. “I’m back … I have to go. What I can tell you is we’re fighting the Craing hybrids. The Craing supplied the thousands upon thousands of crew personnel needed to man the massive fleet. The Blues and the Sahhrain built those ships, but the Craing outfitted them. So we’re fighting hybrids, Cap, and the one leading their fleet is a Commander Greco. History, it seems, goes way back between him and your father.”

  In that moment it all became clear to Jason. He knew all about Greco—from his father’s retelling of his command on board the Montana, two decades earlier.

  “And Cap … your father is going to use swarm droids. That’s why he wanted no other friendly ships around. These hybrids have an almost identical DNA structure to humans; his scientists think they’ve got it figured out, but he didn’t want to chance killing our own people. I told him you’d made a commitment to never again deploy that wretched weapon, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I’m sorry. The only good news is there’s only enough droids left to attack one ship.”

  “Thanks for the clarification, Gunny. I have two more hails to make and very little time to do so.” He cut the connection and looked around for Ricket, heading back now from the front of the bridge where he’d been talking with Bristol.

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “I need you to find Gaddy for me.”

  * * *

  Jason waited while Ricket busied himself at the comms console. Taking in the logistical feed, he noticed there was now a lull in the battle in deep space—both around the disabled Vastma-class ship, which they’d phase-shifted into, as well as a section of space where the Parcical could be seen. She was completely surrounded by the bulk of the hybrid fleet.

  Ricket said, “Captain, I have established an intergalactic channel to the Craing worlds. Empress Gaddy is anxious to speak with you.”

  “Put her up on the display.”

  Gaddy suddenly appeared—pacing back and forth—seeming to be deep in thought. Jason immediately felt the same familiar affection he’d had for the Craing woman, but today he had conflicting feelings as well. Had Gaddy, his friend, deceived him? Was he, and others in the Alliance too, being played by her? Still pacing, she hadn’t noticed him yet. Wearing cut-off jeans and a simple T-shirt, she looked far younger than her years. Finally, she looked up.

  “Captain Reynolds … Jason!”

  “Talk to me, Gaddy. I’m not liking the situation you’ve put me in.”

  About to speak, her eyes moved to Jason’s left.

  She said, “Oh my God … Ricket? What have you done to yourself?”

  Jason saw Ricket’s expression turn—from something akin to amorous, to crest-fallen embarrassment. He reached up and touched the side of his much larger, somewhat distorted, head.

  “No time for that now, Gaddy. Talk to me,” Jason said.

  “First of all … what our people are currently doing … this aggression is not how things were originally planned.”

  “So you are responsible for breaking the conditions set forth within the Craing surrender agreement?”

  She didn’t answer right away, then nodded at him slowly. “I’m sorry. My responsibility is to my people. But know the Craing populace has zero compulsion to be the aggressive empire it was in the past.”

  “And so this is how you demonstrate that?”

  “Let me finish! The Craing are a proud people. We want to reconnect with our neighboring systems … even with the Alliance. But our surrender agreement was far too harsh, Jason; we suffocated under the restrictions imposed on us … primarily by the U.S. Fleet.”

  “Why didn’t you reach out to—”

  She broke in, her temper flaring. “I did! To the Alliance’s high command; to the U.S. Fleet’s high command; and to you personally, Jason! Hundreds of pieces of correspondence went unanswered.”

  Jason knew what she was saying was probably true. As Omni, he rarely had time to answer SpaceMail correspondences, if he’d even read them in the first place. Just another reason he’d handed the position off to his father.

  “Gaddy, we’ve lost far too many good men and women going up against the Sahhrain in the Dacci system. By supplying crewmembers to their ships, you’re partially responsible for that. Not only have you broken the terms of your surrender agreement, you’ve committed an act of war. Gaddy, my world … many worlds, are still suffering horrible repercussions from the Craing War. Earth lost half—I repeat, half—her population! Dira’s planet is nearly completely destroyed. Hundreds … thousands of other worlds …” he stopped, seeing tears stream down the young Craing’s face.

  Getting herself back under control, she spoke softly: “The hybrids were never supposed to let things go this far. In fact, they were supposed to stop the Sahhrain’s planned attack. I merely wanted to show the Alliance that we’re a force to be reckoned with, and that we are committed to coexisting in harmony. In retrospect, it was an ill-planned … stupid … idea.”

  Jason pondered what she said. Perhaps it was her youth, her inexperience as a leader. Even so, there was no excuse. “Gaddy, can’t you stop them? They are your people. In the end, the hybrids are still Craing.”

  “No. They think themselves far more human than Craing. They want Earth to be their new home. I’m so sorry. The safeguards we’d had in place are no longer there. They will be invading Earth. They intend to live and settle there. They’ll fight in order to claim Earth as their new home planet.”

  Jason said, “And destroy her current population in the process!”

  She nodded. “Maybe … probably.”

  “Stay right there … I’m not yet finished speaking with you.” He signaled for Bristol, standing over at the comms board, to cut the connection.

  “Helm, do we have sufficient power to phase-shift to the Parcical’s coordinates?”

  Sergeant Major Stone checked her readings. “Barely, Cap … it would be close … take us three phase-shifts. There’d be nothing left in case of an emergency, until things recharged.”

  “Captain, the Craing fleet has resumed sending ships through Vanguard’s Breach,” Polly said from Tactical.

  “Damn! How many have gone through so far?”

  “Close to fifty, and counting.”

  That was more than he anticipated. The very thought of those powerful Vastma-class warships making their way toward Earth infuriated him. “Helm, go ahead and phase-shift us … I want to be up close and personal to the Parcical.”

  * * *

  It took them three consecutive phase-shift maneuvers. Once the third was completed, they found themselves in the midst of a battle of epic proportions. Plasma fire came from virtually every direction. Dozens of destroyed, or damaged, Vastma-class warships drifted motionlessly in space, while others c
ould be seen moving around the periphery, firing nonstop. The Jumelle, within a half-mile of the Parcical, was amazingly close, considering the vastness of space. Stone had done well.

  “Closer, Helm. Maneuver us so we’re practically touching her.”

  “Okay, Cap,” Stone replied.

  Jason immediately hailed Orion.

  “Captain, what are you doing here? I nearly fired on you!”

  “We’re coming in close. As soon as you can, extend the Parcical’s shields out to shield us too. Our shields are fried.”

  Her hesitation said volumes. Jason was not her commanding officer. He knew she was tempted to first ask the Omni—probably only steps away from her—for permission.

  Stone navigated the Jumelle to within twenty feet of the Parcical’s starboard mid-section within seconds.

  Polly said, “Cool, we’re being shielded, Captain,” the relief in her voice evident.

  Jason stood and initialized his SuitPac device. Pointing a finger at Bristol, and then Ricket, he said, “You two are coming with me.”

  “Oh no, you don’t … not without me,” Boomer said, initializing her own battle suit.

  Jason looked around the Jumelle’s bridge—then to Billy he gestured toward the Captain’s chair. “Hang loose … I’ll be back in touch.” With that, configuring his HUD function to a group phase-shift, the four flashed away together.

  Chapter 61

  Fringe of the Kuiper Belt

  The Parcical bridge

  __________________________

  Jason and the others landed in the passageway, directly outside the Parcical’s bridge, where he was instantly reminded of some stark differences between both vessels. While the Parcical had a clean, minimalistic interior—even the ship’s bulkheads were mostly virtual—the Jumelle, like the The Lilly, had an interior both warm and inviting, almost artful, with indirect lighting and softly padded bulkheads.

  He heard his father’s baritone voice, booming out from the bridge. Jason, first to enter, was quickly followed by Ricket, Bristol and Boomer.

  With Omni Reynolds barely acknowledging him, Jason realized his father probably knew he would come—had anticipated he’d be in contact with Gunny.

  Jason asked, “You open to alternative ideas, other than using swarm droids?”

  Bristol and Ricket walked over to separate bridge consoles. Sitting down, each began interfacing with his respective board. The Omni glanced in their direction and waited.

  Bristol said, “Who the fuck did you assign this to?”

  The Omni noticeably bristled at Bristol’s foul language, his total disregard for military protocol. Jason shrugged, giving his father a ‘what can I do about it’ facial expression.

  Bristol, focusing on his board, continued, “No no no … this isn’t going to work. What a clusterfuck.”

  Ricket, at the opposite side of the bridge, said, “Omni, the DNA re-sequencing is actually quite close. A valiant effort, sir. I believe I can work with this.”

  Jason said, “He already knows that. We wouldn’t be standing here if he hadn’t planned it. So Dad, when did you first realize you were in trouble?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Can you fix it?” Gesturing toward the display, he said, “We’re not going to hold the hybrids off much longer. They have a new weapon, which even the Parcical has a hard time defending against.”

  “He’s right,” Orion said. “They’re using wide-spectrum disrupters …”

  “Yeah, we know all about that particular weapon,” Jason said.

  Bristol looked over to Ricket. “This is way beyond my skills … can you fix it?”

  “Hold on answering that question, Ricket,” Jason said.

  The Omni fumed, “I’m going to kill that hybrid son-of-a-bitch, with or without your help, Jason. If it’s the latter, then get the hell off my bridge!”

  “I have no problem with you killing Greco. I’ll help out any way I can. But the swarm droids … I made a commitment.”

  “That’s your problem, Jason. We’ll only be giving back what the Craing did to us first. Or have you forgotten about the molt weevils … and the peovils?”

  Jason didn’t dignify the question with an answer. “Look, how about we try something else first; something I think you’ll be equally satisfied with?”

  His father held Jason’s stare, then noticed Boomer standing behind him smiling.

  “We’re going to fetch him for you, Grandpa,” Boomer said. “Deliver him to you all wrapped up … with a pretty bow on top.”

  The Parcical’s bridge suddenly shook violently, causing them to reach out for something to grab on to.

  “Well, decide quickly! That weapon is knocking our shields down to zero fast,” Orion said.

  The Omni glanced at Ricket, who seemed extra busy—to the point of tuning out those around him. “Ricket … the droids. You can fix them?”

  Ricket, looking up, didn’t answer, his eyes turning to Jason instead.

  Jason said, “Of course he can. Look, Dad, let’s try it my way first. We can always use the limited number of swarm droids we have as an alternative, targeting the command ship, should it become necessary.”

  “I want Greco inside my brig within ten minutes.”

  “Better make it five,” Orion said, giving Jason an apologetic blink.

  Jason said, “Gunny … you know where he is? Which ship?”

  “I’ve already sent the coordinates to your HUD.”

  “Take as many Sharks with you as you want. He’s a slimy SOB and he’ll be expecting you,” the Omni said.

  “No, the fewer the better. A quick in and out … nab and grab.” Noticing Boomer’s growing anticipation and excitement, Jason wondered if she enjoyed the call to battle perhaps a tad too much. Who’d she get that from? She was an adrenalin junkie. He only hoped it wouldn’t get her killed someday. Or today.

  Orion said, “We need to phase-shift the Parcical … right now! Shields are crashing.”

  “As long as you take the Jumelle along with you,” Jason said, watching his father’s eyes roll as he spoke aloud the ship’s new name.

  The Omni ordered, “Do it! Helm, put us in closer proximity to Greco’s ship.”

  The bright flash came and went, planting them within a far denser cluster of Vastma-class ships. Orion pointed to the display: “There she is … you can—”

  The Omni cut her off: “I’m going with you! I’m going to grab him right in front of his crew.”

  “What?” Jason put his hands up in protest. “No offense, Dad … Omni … but you’re ill-equipped to handle missions like this one at your age.”

  “Deal with it! I’m going.” The Omni fumbled with the SuitPac at his belt before finally getting it initialized.

  “Gunny, we’ll only be a few minutes,” Jason said. “But do what you must do if things go south.”

  “Aye, Cap.”

  “Ricket … hang loose here. Bristol, you’re coming with us.” Jason saw him silently mouth something obscene in protest. Noting the updated phase-shift coordinates on his HUD, he quickly configured the setting to include the group. The Omni, standing tall in his battle suit, strode from the bridge with purpose and authority—Boomer and Bristol two steps behind. Jason had to smile—at that moment he was proud of his father and he saw the man he must have been for so many years before Jason came on the scene. The three of them, his father, Boomer and Bristol, were waiting for him in the large corridor right outside of the bridge entrance. Jason stepped in close—joining them. Bristol had busied himself with something displayed on his HUD. Although no words were spoken at that moment—the three others made eye contact—three generations of warrior Reynolds—together they were going into battle and Jason couldn’t have felt any prouder.

  In a flash the four of them phase-shifted off the Jumelle.

  * * *

  The hybrids had anticipated their arrival.

  Gunny’s provided phase-shift end-point onto the Vastma-class command ship was the perfect logi
cal location. Close enough to the bridge, yet there was sufficient room for the four to appear without tripping over one another.

  Jason’s mind registered the scene in the blink of an eye. Ten or more armed combatants had them surrounded when all hell broke loose—plasma fire erupting everywhere. No sooner had incoming, bright red and powerful, plasma bolts pounded his battle suit than his HUD alarm sounded. Warnings flashed—his battle suit’s shields already failing. He saw his father—now driven to his knees—his face contorted in pain. His battle suit’s shields were obviously gone, a section of which—covering his upper right shoulder—showed exposed, scorch-blackened flesh.

  With a mind-jarring hit to his helmet—Jason too was driven to the deck. Instinctively, he fired both integrated wrist cannons not fully knowing what he was shooting at.

  Boomer’s leap, and subsequent backflip—in spite of a sudden agonizing spike of pain in his back—caused Jason’s heart to fill with pride. Go, girl! Midair, using her enhancement shield, crimson distortion waves made fast work of four hybrids. One after another, they erupted into standing fireballs—not unlike roman candles. Two more hybrids went up in flames next.

  Jason figured their odds were better now—with ten hybrids now reduced to four. As he staggered to his feet, he noticed their plasma fire ceasing as quickly as it started. He spun around, his wrist guns poised to fire. No fewer than twenty armed hybrids had filed in around them, with even more poised behind them. Jason checked his HUD—phase-shifting away was not an option. No power remained. Bristol, lying on the deck—his suit marred by charred plasma strikes—was curled into a ball with his arms over his head. At least he was alive. Boomer was standing tall, even with five plasma weapons trained at her head. Her eyes were locked on her grandfather. At some point, his battle suit had been retracted.

  On all fours, the Omni’s head was being violently pulled back—his chin thrust forward, his neck exposed. A middle-aged hybrid had a fist-full of the Omni’s hair clutched tightly in one hand. Beyond a doubt, he was Commander Greco. Jason’s eyes flashed to the long stiletto blade he held in his other hand.