“Teardrop, can you provide me with a Wi-Fi connection for my laptop?”
The drone didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, I have implemented a connection for you, Nan.”
She brought up her browser and logged into Jason’s bank checking account. His password was the same as it used to be when they were still married, Mollie123. Several keystrokes later she was looking at his account information. Sure enough, there was close to three million dollars, just sitting there. Her mind flashed to Jason’s words, “I’ve thought about rebuilding. Maybe start from scratch. Put up a new house.”
She brought up Google and did a search for complete modular home construction sites. Selecting the link, a website loaded and displayed a full-page image of what looked to be a high-end luxury home. Scrolling down the page, one floor plan caught her attention. It was a sprawling four bedroom, three bathroom ranch-style home. Everything, from land surveys, the permit process, even getting assistance with installation of the various modular components, if needed, was included!
“Teardrop? Can I show you something?”
* * *
Brian raised his hands and gestured for the hopper to do the same. The hopper looked confused by the strange act, but followed his lead. They were on a large vessel. If he was to speculate, it was some kind of freighter, a cargo ship. From bulkhead to bulkhead was easily seventy-five yards across. And even above the smell of death on his apparel, there was a predominant odor of grain.
“Who are you?” a slender humanoid with colorless eyes asked. He was dressed in clothing similar to Brian’s, and continued to point his weapon at Brian’s head.
“Um, I’m Captain Brian Reynolds,” Brian said, exaggerating his rank.
“Why are you wearing our captain’s clothes?”
“Look, I’ve been held hostage by space pirates. Only with the help of this creature was I able to escape. I’m sorry to say, I took these clothes from a dead body. Evidently that of your captain.”
The hopper made a series of clicks and hisses. Brian looked over to the hopper and shrugged. “I’ll see,” Brian replied.
“The creature, the hopper, wishes to be returned to his home.”
“The best we can do is let it out here,” the humanoid said.
Brian glanced out the largest of the nearby portholes—nothing but the blackness of deep space surrounded them.
“We’re in space.”
“Exactly. We would be happy to throw it out of an airlock. You, on the other hand, will be brought back to face charges for the murder of our commanding officer.”
“I didn’t murder your captain. He was tied to a pole, same as I had been.”
“So you say.”
“Back to where you will be taking us, exactly?” Brian asked.
“I’m done answering your questions.” He looked to the others. “Put the two of them in the brig. Kill them if they resist.” Brian figured he was the man in charge, since he was the one giving orders. Brian staggered. Between the loss of his eye and the continual throbbing pain in his head, he was on the verge of blacking out. Going from a dungeon beneath Stalls’ castle to a prison on another planet wasn’t going to happen. Using his NanoCom, he produced his own series of clicks and hisses in the direction of the hopper.
The hopper sprang—so fast, in fact, that it took Brian off guard. With its three-inch claws extended, it drove one of its arms deep into the commanding officer’s torso. It wasn’t dissimilar to how it had dug meat from those crab creatures back on its own planet. Stunned, the others in the group stood paralyzed. Brian rushed the closest of them and pulled the energy rifle from his hands. Getting a better grip, he then drove the butt of the rifle into his forehead and the crewmember fell unconscious to the deck. These people certainly weren’t military-trained, he thought. Brian pointed the weapon back around at the remaining four crewmembers. They were still frozen with fear.
But they weren’t looking in his direction. Brian turned and understood. The hopper, fingers dripping blood, was casually eating the dead commander’s heart.
Brian stepped forward, getting their attention. “Who here is now in charge?”
The four of them looked at each other. The one woman in the group, short and pretty, if somewhat ordinary-looking, spoke. “I guess I am.”
“What’s your name?” Brian demanded.
“We don’t have names. We go by numbers, or abbreviations of our numbers.”
“Well, what’s your number then?”
“My abbreviated number is 56567.”
“I won’t remember that, so you’re now called Betty. How many crewmembers are on board? Lie to me and I’ll kill the lot of you.”
“Twelve, including us. Listen, we’re a simple freighter outfit out of the Durainium sector. Unless you’re looking for a shitload of grain, there’s nothing of value for you here.”
“Just for the record, the story I told you about your captain was true. I didn’t kill him. That was the work of a pirate named Captain Stalls.”
The crew exchanged quick glances with each other.
“You’ve heard that name before?”
“We’ve had run-ins with him and his clan before. Most freighters moving through this part of space simply pay his tolls. He makes a quick example of those that don’t.”
“You’re taking me to Earth; after that, you’re free to go where you want.”
“What is Earth?”
Brian waited for another wave of nausea to subside and his head to clear before speaking again. “Take me to your bridge; I’ll give you the specific coordinates.” Brian gestured with his weapon for them to all get moving. The hopper followed.
To Brian, it seemed as though they had walked miles. He could tell Betty was watching him, had seen him waver and rub his aching head.
“What’s wrong with you. You sick?”
“Don’t worry about me. Just worry that I don’t accidentally pull the trigger on this weapon. All of you keep going.”
Brian’s NanoCom was working overtime: first, with the hopper’s constant hissing and clicking—the creature wanted to go home—and now, translating the back and forth murmurs between the crewmembers.
“Stop talking, all of you.”
They made their way through a maze of intersecting corridors and finally entered the freighter’s small bridge. Brian found the navigation station but had no idea how to access it. He nodded toward Betty and she reluctantly stepped in and entered a code. Several small displays filled with numerical information and another one that showed icons of their own sector, as well as a nearby planetary system. Brian sat down at the station and within several moments was able to pinpoint their current location and its relationship to Allied space, which was relatively close, as well as to Earth in the far away Sol solar system.
“We don’t have the propellant for a trip like that,” Betty said.
Brian looked at her in disbelief.
“Sorry! But we’re on the return leg of a three-month, thirteen planet circuit.”
“Can you make it here, over to this sector?”
Betty looked at the screen and chewed at her lip. She leaned in over Brian’s legs to access the input device. Her chest lightly brushed against Brian’s arm and she became flustered. She adjusted her stance and leaned in again to enter the coordinates. She stood back and shrugged. “Probably could make it.”
Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Jason thought about Ricket’s request overnight. As much as he wanted to acquiesce, the needs of his crew and Earth itself had to come first. Ricket would have to take his chances with the rest of them. If they were successful at dealing with the Craing fleet, he’d be open to discussing the matter further. Jason found Ricket up on Deck 4B and delivered the disappointing news.
“I understand, Captain. I apologize for proposing the procedure at such an inopportune time.”
“Let’s see how we do against the Craing. We’ll talk about it again after that.”
“Yes, Ca
ptain.”
Jason looked down at the bench top. There was a myriad of high-tech looking devices at different levels of assembly. Jason picked up one of their standard battle helmets and noticed the HUD visor was active. “What are you working on here?”
“Something I’m calling a phase-time-comparator circuit. Or PTCC.”
“What’s it do?”
“It is just about ready for implementation, if you decide it’s worthwhile. Go ahead and put on the helmet.”
Jason did as Ricket requested.
“What it will do is allow for playback of previous timeframe visuals based on current optic references. For example, I have set the parameters for exactly thirty days in the past. Now, as you look around viewing the current timeframe, either a smaller window or a direct visual overlay will display the corresponding visual timeframe of thirty days ago.”
Jason slowly turned and surveyed the room. A smaller window was activated and seemed to show the exact same visuals. “Oh, wait,” he said, turning back in the other direction. “That’s really cool. I actually see you in the little window. You’re doing something with the phase-synthesizer. And you’re not wearing your Dodgers cap. I’m impressed. To be honest, I can’t really think of an application I’d need this for today, but if it’s not too much trouble—”
“No, not at all. It will be uploaded into our next battle suit design.”
Jason took off the helmet. “Can this PTCC thing be added to our wraparound bridge display? Perhaps a way to rewind and fast-forward through visual time?”
Ricket took the helmet from Jason and thought about it for a moment. “Of course. That’s a good idea, Captain.”
* * *
Jason entered the bridge and heard the new AI’s male voice announce: “Captain on the bridge.”
He hesitated. “So this is what it looks like when every station is manned, huh?”
There was a whirlwind of activity as the bridge crew prepared for disembarking from the far side of the moon. Above, the Dreadnaught filled most of the wraparound display.
“Aye, Captain,” the XO replied, now standing to his right. Like insects, hundreds of tractor drones scurried about the Dreadnaught’s outer hull.
“Captain, we have a problem,” Perkins said, concern in his voice. “One of the tractors is misbehaving.”
Another video feed was added showing a close-up view of a tractor drone caught in some kind of frenetic loop. Its clawed arms whipped and flailed spastically as sections of the Dreadnaught’s hull tore free. In less than thirty seconds the tractor drone had burrowed itself into the hull and was out of sight.
“I can’t even imagine the kind of damage that thing is causing,” Jason said.
Perkins stood up, watching the display with two fingers to his ear, then nodded.
“Captain, apparently it was a programming glitch. It’s been brought back under control. It was halted before there was any serious internal systems damage.”
Jason let out a breath.
Changing the subject, Perkins said, “The outpost’s come up with a name for the Dreadnaught, Captain.”
“And what’s that?”
“The Independence.”
“I like it. Seems appropriate. What’s the latest status of the Independence?”
“All systems are now operational. We needed to retrofit replacement parts coming out of the phase-synthesizer,” Perkins replied. “They’re shuttling over some crewmembers as we speak. It’ll still seem like a ghost ship, but we’ll have enough crew there to keep critical systems alive.”
“Good. According to the admiral the rest of the outpost fleet is ready.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jason brought his attention back to the bridge and the small white cube sitting atop the Comms station. “And we’re ready to test this thing?”
“Aye, sir. Everything seems to be properly installed and configured. The Caldurians synchronized the equipment—and tested that it talks to the interchange. I think we’re good to go. Ready to jump across the universe, whenever you’re ready.”
“That, or get stranded a thousand light years from home. Let’s hope we don’t lose favor with the Caldurians, or worse, the interchange. Seems we’re not only putting our own lives at stake, but those of the entire fleet.”
“Having second thoughts, sir?”
Jason shrugged. “We either attempt to use this technology, or stick with FTL and show up in Allied space several weeks from now. Two options, and lives are at stake either way.”
“Aye, sir.”
Jason saw one of the Gordon brothers, Michael, at the Comms station.
“Opening a channel with the interchange, sir. Connection established and in-and-out coordinates have been relayed.”
Thirty seconds later, space distorted and a spectrum of colors emanated from an irregular opening.
“McBride, ready a long-range probe and deliver it into the mouth of that wormhole. I want to see what we’ll be dropping into on the other side.”
“Aye, Captain.”
All eyes turned to the display.
“Probe’s away, sir,” McBride said.
The probe was at the mouth of the wormhole. It seemed to hesitate, then was quickly swallowed up into the blackness at its center.
“We’re receiving a signal from Trumach space, sir. Must be our connection through the wormhole,” Gordon added.
“Yes, that goes without saying, Seaman,” Jason replied.
The wraparound display came alive with new visuals.
“It’s got to be from the Craing fleet, sir!” Orion said from Tactical. Three drab brown Craing battle cruisers were holding stationary. Further away, three more warships were firing missiles in the direction of a blue, Earth-like planet.
“Trumach,” Jason said aloud.
“Seems they’ve just arrived, sir. Minimal damage indicated. But that will change with that latest missile barrage.”
“How many warships are in the vicinity?”
“Medium-range scans indicate ten. The rest of their fleet isn’t far, though. Looks to be en route to the next system,” Gunny replied.
“Captain, two of the cruisers are maneuvering to set down on the surface.”
“Helm, new coordinates. Change our outpoint to the far side of that planet. And somebody get down to the Zoo. Find Traveler and tell him to prepare his warriors for battle.”
“Outpoint reconfigured, sir.”
“Make the announcement for general quarters, XO,” Jason said. “Deploy the rail-guns; hell, deploy everything.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Helm, phase-shift us to the mouth of that wormhole.”
“Aye, sir.”
The bridge flashed white as they phase-shifted into position. Then, poised at the mouth of the wormhole, The Lilly hesitated briefly and was drawn in.
Chapter 21
Chapter 21
They’d traveled sixty light years in an instant.
Trumach filled the forward section of the display.
“She’s beautiful,” Orion said aloud. “We’re undetected, sir.”
Jason agreed. It was similar to Earth but different, too. No polar icecaps, less ocean, larger and greener continents.
“Where do we stand, Gunny?”
“Long-range sensors indicate the entire Craing fleet, which is more like two thousand vessels than fifteen hundred, has already moved past us by Trumach space and is about to leave this sector. Ten warships are still here in Trumach space and no more than five light minutes distance. As indicated earlier, three light cruisers look to be patrolling open space, while two of their large heavy cruisers have now set down at one of Trumach’s major population centers. The Craing have destroyed Trumach’s capital city, as well as key communication hubs around the planet.”
“Two thousand? Somehow they’ve added five hundred additional warships. What about the heavy cruisers on the ground? What are they doing?”
“Unloading, Captain. I’m seeing a
large deployment of troops from both vessels,” Orion replied.
Jason’s orders had been fairly explicit: don’t directly engage the Craing before the rest of the Allied forces arrive.
“Gunny, those troops. Are they Craing?”
“No, sir, different physiology. My guess is they are rhinos,” she said.
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