Jason went on anyway. “You are a warrior, no? So let me ask you a simple question, warrior to warrior. Is it better to wait and defend against your enemy’s advances, or to take the initiative, be the aggressor—attack them when they least expect it?”
Traveler slowly nodded his large head. “In my vision we fought against the mightiest of adversaries. There could be no bigger dishonor than having our mates taken by others. We will fight this battle your way, Captain, but afterward, those of us who survive must return to Trumach.”
* * *
Jason’s last stop for the day was back at the outpost. He’d left The Lilly at the far side of the moon where the Dreadnaught’s reconstruction efforts continued to make steady, albeit slow, progress. Jason took the opportunity to get behind the stick of his favorite fighter, the Pacesetter. He’d brought along Gunny Orion for a meetup with Billy Hernandez and several others. Over the last few weeks The Lilly’s crew and SEAL forces had been dangerously downsized due to reassignments and in training other fleet personnel. Jason would not make the mistake again of being caught unprepared in deep space.
The first thing Jason noticed as he and Gunny approached the outpost and prepared to land was the dismantled Craing prison camp. That was the Craing’s primary condition for returning to full duty within the Allied fleet. Rightfully, they demanded more equality, which meant an end to prison-style housing and all ill treatment.
Billy had spent the last few days looking for the remainder of the original Lilly SEAL team. Some had been reassigned to other ships; others were assisting with combat training geared toward the particulars of space fleet tactics. It would be up to Jason, and ultimately Admiral Reynolds, to process the necessary paperwork to bring them all back together again as a unit.
Flight training was in full swing, with no fewer than a dozen Craing warships in the air at any one time, practicing landings, take offs, and an assortment of other essential maneuvers. Troops were being assembled—mostly from the Navy and Marines, but the Army was represented, as well. The smallest of the reconstructed Craing light cruisers was still twice the size of The Lilly. The ships would accommodate a fighting force of hundreds.
Jason wondered why so many of what looked to be ground forces were being trained here. Were they really being specifically readied for space missions? That seemed unlikely. Interstellar engagements involved close-quarter combat. Hell, they’d be stumbling over each other.
Jason and Orion pulled their duffle bags from the Pacesetter’s storage compartment. They heard a familiar voice in the distance. Looking up, Jason saw the admiral, who was jogging across the open quad in their direction.
“Your father’s a spry old guy, Cap.”
“He certainly is.” Jason gestured toward the goings-on around them. “This is what he lives for. He’s a born leader. I think preparing for what could be considered the ultimate military engagement, well, that only spurs him on more. And the last time he went up against the Craing fleet he was defeated—humiliated. This is redemption for him.” The admiral slowed to a walk and joined Jason and Orion in front of the Pacesetter.
“You’re late,” the admiral barked, but kept a smile on his face.
“Sorry, seems I’ve been putting out fires since I saw you last,” Jason replied. “Hey, what’s with all the troops? You don’t think they’ll be tripping over each other up there?”
“They probably will be. But it’s becoming more and more evident that our forces will be needed on the ground as much as in space. Even if they’re not, we want to be prepared,” the admiral said.
“I’ve been caught short-handed several times now, so I certainly can’t fault your logic. Which reminds me, we need to reassemble our original SEAL team. Any possibility you can flex your military-command muscles and help expedite that? Billy’s been making the rounds and has a list of who is where and under which command.”
“Get me the list. No promises, but I’ll do my best,” the admiral answered. “Talk to me about our Dreadnaught. What’s the progress?”
“As of two hours ago, breaches to the outer hull have been repaired. The tractor drones are currently working on various weapons and armaments. Getting the drives online is another story; seems we’re coming up short with replacement parts.”
“I guess we can’t just order up a new set of parts from the Craing Empire, huh?” the admiral asked, looking disappointed.
“Ricket thinks he can fabricate most, if not all, of the parts with the phase-synthesizer. He’s up on Deck 4B now. I told him not to show his face until he’s gotten the parts made.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” the admiral said, turning to his left. “The Caldurians arrived several hours ago and left us these.”
Jason saw the glowing portal opening and a small mountain of crates.
The admiral continued, “Guess we’re getting a special delivery: two hundred and thirty-five toaster-sized devices. We’re not completely sure what we’re supposed to do with them.”
Jason squinted in the direction of the crates.
Orion was already on the move. “I’ll bring one back.”
In less than a minute, Orion ran there and back, returning with one of the devices in her hands. Turning it end-over-end, she shrugged and handed it to Jason. “Sorry, sir, I have no idea what it is either,” she said apologetically.
“That’s all right, Gunny. I think I know.” Jason looked over the seamless white cube, then tossed it over to his father.
The admiral caught it, but made a face. “Hey, I might have dropped it, you know. What the hell is it?”
Jason shrugged. “We knew they were coming. Our ticket for moving unrestricted across the universe. I suspect this is how the fleet will communicate with the interchange. Most importantly, this device provides … at least some hope that we can go up against the Craing.”
“I’m still not comfortable placing alien technology aboard our fleet vessels. We have no idea what these fucking things really are. Hell, even if they’re the real deal, the Caldurians could turn them back off on a whim. We’ve talked about this, Jason. We’re still not sure what the Caldurians’ true motivations are.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Dad. But, in for a penny, in for a pound … right? Truth is, the fleet is comprised of one hundred percent alien technology already. It’s piloted, for the most part, by alien crewmembers. So now we’re going to put a stake in the ground? And stop using alien tech?”
“Don’t be a smart-ass,” the admiral snapped back. “I know all that. We’ve already integrated Caldurian wormhole travel into our strategic planning. Obviously, without those devices we’d miss confronting the Craing fleet entirely. I’m just saying I’m not comfortable with it.”
“I’m not either. The prospect of having these things on The Lilly and the rest of the fleet gives me the willies,” Jason replied.
“So, how do we even install these things? Where do we put them?” the admiral asked.
“That’s a question for Granger, but I imagine somewhere on the bridge,” Jason said, unsure.
As if waiting for this opportune moment, Granger stepped from the portal opening, followed by twenty other Caldurians right behind him. Granger spotted them and made his way over to join them.
“We would like to assist you with installation.”
Jason looked to his father. “It’s your call, Admiral.”
Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Billy did a good job rounding up their scattered SEAL teammates, as well as their original fighter pilot crew. With very few exceptions, the admiral had made good on his promise to help get The Lilly’s military people reassigned back where they belonged.
Jason entered the mess hall back on board The Lilly. In his frantic rush to prepare for the impending Craing fleet engagement, he’d only been able to catch sporadic sleep and was missing more than a few meals. Feeling anxious and hungry, he forced himself to get out of his ready room. Now, looking around the crowded compartment he rea
lized it had been some time since there’d been this many crew on board at any one time. At last count, the ship’s military complement was up to two hundred and sixty-three. He had three full shift rotations in every department. Additions had been made to the SEAL security forces, now sitting at seventy-two men, as well as to the fighter squadron, now totaling sixteen pilots.
“Hey, Cap, I hear we have some new tech on board,” Rizzo said from the other end of the table. “Can you tell us anything about that?”
“Well, I don’t know, Mr. Rizzo; it’s all pretty secret … If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” Jason replied with a wry smile. Rizzo smirked and was jeered at by several of his friends.
“Yes, in all seriousness, we have significantly upgraded multiple areas of the ship. Medical has a new ginormous MediPod, and other departments have had their databases updated. And as you already know, we have the latest nano-tech in our heads. Tactical has undergone significant changes as well. Our four plasma cannons have been replaced by newer and more effective versions of the same. We have three new gimbal-mounted rail-guns, in addition to the two we had before. The third new one deploys from the top of the ship. Each of these guns takes better advantage of the JIT ordnances. The Lilly’s shields, which were already impressive, have been strengthened. We also have the ability to phase-shift up to three thousand miles, with more precision and accuracy than before. This same phase-shift tech carries over to our missiles and other ordnances as well. Our drives have been … no better way to describe it, turbo-charged. Increased nearly a third in size, they provide a thirty percent increase in thrust. And faster-than-light travel has increased by a factor of three. But perhaps our biggest advancement, one that is yet to be tested, is our ability to call up a wormhole on demand and transport to virtually anywhere in the universe. Thanks to our new Caldurian friends, the entire fleet shares this added ability.”
“Is it true we’ll be heading through Allied space alone to face the Craing?” another crewmember asked from across the room.
“Who am I talking to over there?”
“Seaman First Class Bigelow, sir.”
“I’m not ready to discuss specific strategic or tactical information, Seaman Bigelow. What I can say is we will be leaving Earth orbit at 0600. At some point in the near future The Lilly and the Allied fleet will engage the Craing. By anyone’s measurement, this will be a decisive turning point in the war against the enemy.”
“But you think we’ll defeat the Craing, right, sir?”
Jason didn’t answer right away, not wanting to quell anyone’s enthusiasm. “We’re doing everything we can to be fully prepared this time. Keep in mind, the fifteen hundred Craing warships headed for Allied space are but a fraction of the Craing’s total forces. We have our work cut out for us.” Jason became less serious. “Listen, each and every one of you will need to put on your superman cape and be a hero to those we’re fighting for back on Earth. Can you do that?”
“Aye, sir. I can do that,” Bigelow replied.
Jason looked around the mess, which had become quiet. All eyes were on him. Then several of them repeated the seaman’s words: “Aye, sir. I can do that.” Then more of them said it, a little louder, and finally everyone in the room repeated the same words again, “Aye, sir. I can do that!”
* * *
Ricket met Jason as he headed out of the mess. “Have you been waiting for me?” Jason asked.
“Captain, I’d like to discuss something with you. Something on a personal level.” They continued on together toward the DeckPort. Jason couldn’t remember Ricket ever wanting to speak to him on a personal level. But then again, since he’d met the cyborg months earlier, Ricket had changed, evolved: his speech patterns were more relaxed and his mannerisms more humanlike.
“What is it, Ricket?”
Ricket seemed uneasy to the point that he turned and verified they were truly alone. “I wish to make an adjustment, a change with my status on this vessel.”
Jason’s mind reeled. The mere thought of commanding this ship without Ricket at his side was unthinkable. Could he even manage that? What had happened? Had he discounted or trivialized Ricket in some way?
“I don’t understand. I thought you were happy here,” Jason asked.
“I am happy here. And I am not talking about leaving the ship.”
Jason was relieved and his face must have shown it.
“Captain, as indicated by the transformation experienced by Lieutenant Commander Perkins, it is evident that one’s physical form can be dramatically altered.”
Jason stepped through the DeckPort and waited for Ricket. When Ricket joined him on Deck 2, Jason said, “Let’s make this conversation more private.”
Once seated at the conference table in the captain’s ready room, Jason asked Ricket to continue.
“Captain, as you know I have been through what is called the transformation of eternity. My body is no less than two hundred years old, but it was only from the point when your father and Gus discovered me half-buried beneath rocks and dirt that I have any recollection of life. In a sense, that was my birthday. This body of mine, half organic half mechanical, has always felt strange or foreign to me.”
“Ricket, Perkins’ body was totally organic, he wasn’t a cyborg. Separating—”
“Understand, Captain, I would not approach you with this if I had not conducted the necessary investigative research. Reversal of the transformation of eternity, at least to my knowledge, has never been attempted. The technology was not available. But now, with the latest Caldurian MediPod upgrades, I believe it is.”
“And the downside? How dangerous a procedure is this?”
“In my estimation, my odds of mortality are approximately fifty percent.”
“Are you so unhappy that you’re willing to risk your life for no better than fifty-fifty, the flip of a coin, odds?”
Jason watched Ricket contemplate the question. Looking small, in some ways childlike, he removed his LA Dodgers ball cap and placed it on the table in front of him. The micro-mechanical devices moving beneath his skin only emphasized his point. With the ship’s added Caldurian technology, the constant movement of gears, actuators and tiny pistons now made Ricket’s appearance seem anything but high tech.
“Captain, there is enough of me that is organic to know I am not truly alive. Not really alive.”
“So, what would be the next step? If you went through this process.”
“A complete reversal, separating organic from mechanical, as you put it, would not be possible. Much of my cognitive faculties rely on components that are non-organic.”
“So what are you proposing?”
“A next-generation set of nano-devices. Obviously customized for my physiology. My core memory and multi-processors will migrate into the new nano-device, with room to spare. With the help of Granger and his scientists, I have already provisioned the necessary device from the phase-synthesizer.”
“And the mechanical parts of the rest of your body?”
“That is actually the most difficult aspect of this procedure. This body will be discarded. Using my original DNA, a new body, one that is totally organic, will be synthesized via the new MediPod.”
“The timing of this, Ricket, could not be worse. Can’t it wait until we’ve dealt with the Craing fleet?”
“Precisely why I have come to you now. If the Allied forces, The Lilly, were to fall to the Craing, you and the rest of the crew would, in all likelihood, perish, Captain. My body is uniquely robust. In all probability, I would survive as I am now, as a cyborg, perhaps for hundreds, if not thousands of years.”
“I do see your point.”
Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Nan was afraid to look in the bathroom. For two straight hours there’d been constant noise. The house shook with the sounds of wood splintering and pipes being cut and pulled out from God knew where.
With Teardrop’s success rebuilding the Cherokee from the scrapyard, Na
n had asked the drone if it could make household repairs, as well. Scanning through walls seemed to be one of its attributes, and with delivery of the necessary replacement parts, Teardrop was confident the old house’s plumbing problems could be alleviated.
As Nan watched the drone silently hover down the hall, into the den, then out into the yard, she marveled at its wherewithal to complete any task put before it. With Jason’s bank debit card information on hand, Teardrop had accessed Home Depot’s website, ordered the necessary tools and supplies, and even arranged for their delivery to the front gate. Nan couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking too small. Teardrop was back and carrying several long metal pipes in one of its clawed hands.
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