Jack’s hand was already head high trying to go for the blaster on his back as he stood up but he knew he could not retrieve it in time. In desperation Jack yelled. “NO!” With all his being as his hand changed direction and he held his palm out in line with the Admiral some 20 feet away. He had used his palm before when it seemed easier to read the feelings and hear the mind speak of others and even stop the troops from firing in the medical bay on the lost ship a couple weeks before but what happened next shocked Jack.
The Admiral was thrown from his Chair over the arm and onto the deck as the cover slammed shut over the big red Button.
Jack could not believe what he had just done as he turned his palm around and looked at his hand. Ignoring the sudden head ache behind his eyes.
“What the hell did you do Turner?” The Admiral screamed as he picked himself up off the deck and walked back to the Chair. “How did you do that?” Shaking his head. “Hell. It does not matter we well be dead in a few seconds anyway.” The Admiral jumped to the chair and thumbed the clear cover over the red Button and the cover flipped open. “You can’t stop me Turner.” The Admiral started to drop his hand down toward the Big Red Button.
Jack turned his hand back around and said. “No! Stop right there.” Pain started shooting through Jacks head.
The Admiral’s hand stopped. Frozen in midair only an inch from the button.
“Back away from the chair!” Jack demanded as the pain increased only to have his suit sensors detect the pain and shoot pain killers into him trying to keep him functional.
The Admiral backed a step away from the chair as the cover automatically slammed closed and then another step but then as the pain decreased a little, the Admiral took a step back toward the Chair.
Jack was finding it harder to concentrate with the intense pain in his head and the effort that it required. His breathing rasping his throat and sweat running down his face.
The Admiral took another step toward the chair and said threw gritted teeth. “Get out of my mind Turner. You can’t stop me.”
“You don’t need to do this Admiral.”
“Yes I do for my, my family and my honor.”
Jack was losing the war as the effort become greater and greater with the potent pain killers kicking in. The Admiral reached the chair and his hand started toward the cover plate.
In desperation Jack reached around the small of his back with his left hand and grabbed the fore grip of the cannon and brought it around to his front.
The Admiral thumbed the cover plate again and it popped open.
With a tremendous effort that felt like he was ripping his head in half, Jack drove the Admiral back several steps away from the chair again as he fell to his knees gasping for air he could not get enough of.
Hate radiating from his whole body the Admiral fell to his knees as he grabbed his head with his hands.
Jack felt the pain killers subduing the pain in his head and realized that he could not hold him with his mind any longer as Admiral Chinn suddenly released his head letting his hands drop to his sides. A surprised look flashing to his face with a big smile. “I don’t know how you did it Turner but you can’t do it anymore can you.” The Admiral lunged for the Chair slapping his thumb back down onto the cover.
In desperation Jack brought the cannon up as he slapped his right hand onto the pistol grip and thumbed the Safety switch all the way up past grenade to High Explosive Shell. His left hand thumb stabbing the fore grip’s power slide to maximum.
The cover on the red self-destruct Button flew to the front. The Admiral grinned from ear to ear as he stared at the barrel of the cannon that was not even pointed at him, the Admiral slapped at the big red button. His fingers came down onto the top of the button and the computer started to read his prints but was having a hard time as the middle of that particular finger around the knuckle had only a couple of partial scans in the database to make sure it was actually the Admiral. It took a fraction of a second for the Chairs Computer to confirm that yes indeed, it was the Admirals middle finger.
Jack pulled the trigger as his helmet slammed up around his head. The High Explosive shell using almost half the remaining power in the magazine travelled less than 20 feet and hit the large Command Chair at the base.
A Plasma Fireball engulfed the whole Command Chair and the Admiral crouched next to it. Vaporizing Admiral Chinn, the entire Chair and all the electronics and wiring down into the false deck before a signal could be sent.
With a blast radius of 30 feet, Jack was hit by the shock wave full in the chest throwing him through the air across the deck as the first row of consoles and their operators and Admiral Chinn’s top advisors were burned alive or torn to shreds saving the lives of most of the other crewmen in the rows in front of and below them.
Captain Broderick surrendered the ship 30 seconds later as Jack was climbing out of the Flag Bridges main viewing screen. His head feeling like someone had driven a spike into the middle of it. Though his suit’s pain killers were starting to kick in full force.
All Jack was certain of was that the last of the 12 holdout ships had surrendered.
Chapter 29; Moronic low class officers and crews
Jack slid his fighter out of the tangled wreckage of the bow of the Captured Command Ship. The Red Pepper slipped up beside the Command ship China Sun so boats could start evacuating the wounded.
The sad part was that Jack realized that most of the gun turrets of the battleships on both sides had blown at least one barrel and some two in the exchange after only a few shots. Driving home the need to get the ships to New Home where they could be upgraded before they ever faced anyone in battle again.
The Lieutenant’s fighter joined him and Jack started wondering what happened to the pilots he had sent down to take the Fusion Cores. Hopping that they were just prevented from carrying out their mission on the last core and not eliminated. Knowing that over the comm was not the proper place to ask about the pilots. Jack started to land back on the ship but with the old landing deck and hanger busy with only one entry hatch with an Air Curtain installed yet into the damn small hanger of the Command Ship and all the evacuation boats, there really was not room for him there and with no shield decks there was no place to put one at the other end. Jack turned away to stay out of the way and headed for the Red Pepper.
Landing in the Red Pepper’s wide open hanger with plenty of room for the coming and going boats. A steady stream of wounded headed for the medical decks. He was glad that all he could see were Congressional uniforms on the stretchers but that still did not answer how many pilots he had lost in side that damn ship.
Climbing out Jack forced himself not to throw his helmet across the deck in disgust. He had been counting on being able to use the damn Battleships to help counter the hundred Battleships and Carriers coming up the Maze. But they were worthless to him now with their guns in such bad shape. He had no choice but to send them to New Home as soon as possible.
Instead of possibly being a half way even fight, he was back to being out numbered and out gunned with enough enemy fighters to make it impossible to get in close enough to even thin down the enemy numbers without suffering major losses himself. Not unless he could take out the enemy fighters first and even the small fleet he had coming with their improved God fighters, could not do that as outnumbered as they were. The 60 to 100 fighters in storage in the Battleships he just captured was not enough to help that much even with the training the pilots may have received in The Damn Game no matter what Zoote said. After all she was wrong about some of the Volunteers. If he had not spotted their fucking hate ridden emotions, they could have blown up or put out of action any ship they would have been assigned to and getting hundreds or even thousands killed in the other ships that depended on each other.
For the second time Jack stopped himself from throwing the helmet as he grabbed his weapons out of the storage space and stomped towards Flight Control. Growling at the Lieutenant even though he d
id not mean or want to. His frustration overwhelming him at taking the time and resources to capture ships he could not use. Loosing good crewmen for nothing. Praying that the enemy would give him time to come up with something else.
Which brought up an even more important point. Just where and what the hell was the enemy doing while he was fucking around playing with himself having fun. He needed to get up to his Flag Bridge and find out and fast. Not to mention his second problem. He was still half a mind as whether or not to spread the word around about the new sensors that would reveal the location of The Rock to all who looked, not to mention New Home and the Bubble that showed so clearly when they were turned in that direction. Not sure if the Red Pepper’s new Captain really needed to know or not. The Problem was that he was going to have to tell the Admirals soon and it was very possible that they would order him to destroy the sensors and kill the designer. Could he make himself follow such an order?
Jack walked into Flight Control and shoved the helmet into the cubby hole above the data screen for the fighter that the helmet belonged to. Unlike the Spider fighters that plugged into the Battlesuit helmet the pilot wore, the Republic X-wing fighters required separate helmets since they could not talk to the Battlesuits. At least not yet without the upgrades they did not have time to put into the fighters which Jack was unhappy about as well. Since the upgraded guns and engines with the scoops would give the republic fighters a marked advantage over the Congressional Communists fighters which they had thousands of. He just did not have the material, equipment or the time to upgrade them.
Turning around Jack was slapped on the back by one of the new Volunteer pilots that had just flown a real fighter for the first time even though he had flown thousands of hours in The Game. Smiling from ear to ear the Congressional uniformed pilot hugged Jack around the shoulders giving him a shake as other pilots joined in with high fives all around. The pilots coming in from patrol bragging to the ones getting ready to take the fighters back out.
Jack slammed his armored fist into the bulkhead ringing everyone’s ears. Immediately getting total silence across the compartment from shocked pilots. “Lots of fun ass holes. Looked like a bunch of blind bats bouncing around each other out there. In a few hours each of you are going to go up against 4 or 5 of the Best pilots the Congressional Communists can put up. This is not the fucking Sims of The Game. You get killed out there and you are dead. No restart. No re-spawning to rejoin the fucking battle. Just to get killed Again. Now! Get your fucking heads out of your asses and start taking this seriously or we are all going to be dead because you fuckers are out there playing with yourselves and chasing each other around grab assing like this is a fucking game. Well, do that in combat and 4 bad ass enemy pilots are going to stick their missile dicks up each of your ass.”
Jack sneered as he looked around the compartment then headed for the exit hatch into the ship.
One of the older pilots (They all were older than Jack), gave Jack a dirty look as Jack started to pass him and said. “What the hell is your problem Mate? Who the hell are you in that piece of junk suit with a toy across your back to tell us what to do?”
Without thinking Jack reached out and grabbed the pilot by the front of his flight suit and jerked him around and up against the bulkhead with his feet dinging, looking up at him. “I am your worst fucking nightmare Mate and have been killing spiders for 7 months now using that toy across my back and this junk suit has saved my life a dozen times. Now I am responsible for a quarter of a million crewmen and their ships and if you get your ass shot off and my ships destroyed and their crews killed because you think you are just playing a fucking game, I will stick what is left of your fucking fighter up what is left of your sorry ass and pull the trigger myself. Do you understand me? MATE?”
The pilot mouth moved. “Yes sir.”
“What the hell was that? You a fuckin baby? I asked you a damn Question and I expect a fucking fighter pilot to answer me!”
The pilot screamed at Jack spewing spittle from his lips as Jacks helmet flipped up to fast to see before the spittle got near Jack’s face as the pilot’s eyes finally focused on Jack’s Stars on his smoke covered collar. “Yes Admiral! This is not a Game sir!”
Being called Admiral suddenly embarrassed Jack out of his rage. Letting the pilot slide down the bulkhead Jack turned away as he slapped the side of his helmet and it retracted back into his collar as fast as it had sprang up. Jack left the compartment feeling stupid at not handling the situation better as the Lieutenant followed wearing battle armor and weapons as well.
“Fucking amateurs.” She said for everyone to hear as she stepped through the hatch.
The Air Chief stood up from the console at the far end of the compartment and said. “Ok Kiddies, we have a lot of work to do on the Sims before the ones that just came in go to chow and you babies going out are going to practice 2 on 1 engagements just to see if you even know how to fly before we amp up to 5 to 1. Only the best of you are going into Combat so get you’re fucking assess in gear and back to work. The Admiral needs fighter pilots not Sim Jockeys.”
------------------------------
Jack walked off the elevator and stopped in his tracks as he realized the passageway that ran from the bridge aft past the captain’s day cabin’s hatch to the conference compartment was gone and what looked like a much longer bridge was stretched out in front of him. Only it wasn’t the navigation bridge. The deck to overhead ports were there but now there was no overhead and the dozens of screens hanging down from the missing overhead were replaced with huge window ports like the side ports going across the top making the bridge into a greenhouse. The huge damage control screens running from side ports to side ports across the back of the bridge were gone, replaced by one large screen that only ran part way across leaving room on both sides for more ports back past the screen on one side and past the elevator hatch on the other. The Command chair sitting on a small stage in the middle had a much better view farther back along the sides because of the slanted notches on each side of the aft bulkhead from both the hatch and side of the screen placed more toward the center.
Jack stepped out onto the bridge that looked like it was sitting out in the middle of space with the side of the ship stretched out in front of the bridge toward the bow. Stepping around the bot standing behind the Command Chair. Jack stopped next to the Command Chair with his hand on the back, Jack noticed that all the ships control consoles were gone replaced by Fleet Command Consoles an Admiral needed recessed down a couple of steps into the deck around an outer ring. Two sensor consoles were recessed down a step into the deck directly in front of the Command chair replacing the pilot and navigator consoles. One of the consoles was torn apart with access covers sitting around it. Sitting down he could see 3D projections of the placement of every ship, boat, bomber and fighter in the fleet spread around him. The incredibly detailed little virtual models with what even looked like men working out on the hulls moving around in real time. The close area of the maze was beyond the ships. Smaller virtual, almost invisible tactical and comm screens circled close around the chair.
Something caught Jack eye in the distance. Leaning forward in the chair. “What the Fuck!”
The Bot came to life stepping in front of Jack. “Yes Admiral how may I help you?”
“What?” Shaking his head as he tried to look around the thin bodied bot annoyed but gave up and sat back. ““Oha, now I’m an Admiral?”
“A Bot control node has been activated on the Red Pepper. I have updated my programing Admiral. How can I be of service?”
“Aaa… I did not call you.”
“You said my second name Admiral. What the Fuck.”
“Oh yes... That… Is not your name.”
“Very well Admiral. That, is not my name. Are there additional names you do not wish to call me?”
“Aaa. OK, that was easy. No C3PO. That will do for now. Go stand by the elevator.”
“I am sorry Admiral. Wha
t elevator?”
Jack frowned as he looked around at the elevator hatch at the back corner of the bridge bulkhead. “The elevator. What is the problem with you? Go stand beside the Elevator out of the way.”
“I am sorry Admiral Turner but there is a High-speed Transport Car access hatch in the back bulkhead of the bridge with an access hatch to your quarters next to it. I see no Elevator hatch. Elevators are for civilian buildings with no same level transport abilities using open air enclosed cable cars and not self-propelled armored airtight pods required on all Naval Ships. With the Navy officially accepted name of Transport Lifts or just Lifts. I see no Cable car Elevators access hatches on the bridge and do not know of any Elevators on the ship. Fact, I have found in my programing that Elevators are illegal on all space capable ships, civilian and military Admiral Turner.”
“What the fuck.” Jack looked up out of the clear overhead ports at a DD and several fighters streaking past the Red Pepper as he ran his hands through his short hair shaking his head slowly back and forth.
“Yes Admiral. You called? I am still here. Do you wish to give me an order?”
“Err… No!” Jack blurted out and then in exasperation. “I and everyone I know has used the term Elevator for those damn… Lifts. Since I could walk back on the Turner Joy. How could you not know that?”
“Union Rules preclude the use of the term Elevator when an elevator is not being referenced to and that the term Lift or Transport Car, high-speed or conventional velocity, be used in all references to Navel Modular Transports, Personal or Cargo conveyances.”
“Jesus Criste. From now on the term elevator is accepted for the damn Lifts. OK?”
“Yes Admiral Turner. The term elevator is an accepted term for the Damn Lifts. What are Damn Lifts? Damns are large structures used for holding back bodies of water from planetary rivers and waterways and can weigh billions of tons. Lifting such damns embedded in bed rock can be very difficult and pointless since they would no longer be able to perform their original function. Do you wish to add Jesus Criste to my list of names you wish to call me as well?”
Battleship Destroyer 2 (Battleship Destoryer) Page 114
