Scrapyard Ship

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  “Let’s position the rhino-warriors to charge first, and we’ll bring up the rear,” Jason said. Then thinking better of it, he walked to the front of the team and looked up at each of the large beasts individually.

  “This is it. The fate of our two worlds rests on this one battle. Without defeating the Serapins, without taking control of this vessel’s bridge, today will be lost. I’ve seen you in battle. You fight with honor, bravery, and you never surrender. When we blow this hatch, we will be up against ten other formidable warriors. I’m asking you to fight like you’ve never fought before, and help us win this day.”

  Jason noticed then that Traveler was among the rhino-warriors. As Jason spoke, the others became more and more fidgety, shifting their weight side-to-side, anxious for combat to begin.

  “Blow the hatch,” Jason commanded.

  The massive eight-foot high by ten foot-wide hatch exploded inward, fortunately decapitating the closest of the eight awaiting raptors. The rhinos-warriors rushed forward without hesitation. Under normal conditions, a ten-foot wide corridor would be a decent size for a confined space battle. The rhino-warriors and Serapins were close in height and mass. They went for each other. Traveler’s heavy hammer was already in the air and making its downward trajectory within seconds of entering the corridor. With the combined weight of the heavy hammer and the unbridled strength behind the blow, thousands of pounds of momentum crashed down on the closest Serapin’s skull, first shattering the cranial bones, then flattening the creature’s brain matter to the size of a standard pancake.

  Another Serapin had its wide jaws tightly secured around a rhino-warrior’s forearm. Bones cracked and the arm tore away with simplistic ease. But without loosing a beat, the injured rhino-warrior let loose his hammer, much in the same way Traveler had done previously. Jason, Billy, and the other SEALs had their plasma pulse rifles aimed and ready. No one fired. Maybe it was instinctual, but Jason knew they needed to let the rhino-warrior play out his battle. Win or lose, they would fight to the death.

  Two Serapins were attacking a single rhino-warrior; both had their jaws around its head. The rhino fought tirelessly, but in the end, his head came off in one of their mouths. Jason heard the sound of heavy hammers striking flesh further down the corridor. Two rhino-warriors were bludgeoning the last of the Serapins. The rhino-warriors had been victorious while never using their pulse weapons, ensuring an honorable and fair fight.

  Standing amongst the carnage, Jason hailed the bridge for a status report.

  “Go for XO.”

  “What’s the status of The Lilly and our fighters?”

  “Two of the fighters have returned to The Lilly for repairs. They are taking a beating, Cap. The Craing are now laying in wait for them with plasma cannons. The good news is we’ve disabled forty-two Craing warships.”

  “What about The Lilly?”

  “They discovered us in their hold about ten minutes ago. They brought in numerous mobile plasma cannons and even a massive rail gun, but they couldn’t penetrate our shields. And in return, we turned their guns to slag. So we’re OK here for now. We’ve been watching your helmet cams. Looks like you’re ready to breech the bridge?”

  “Yeah, I’ll keep you posted,” Jason replied.

  “Wait a minute, Captain,” the XO said, excitedly. “Something’s happening out there in the hold. It’s being depressurized and we’re hearing something. Captain, Ricket tells me those are the hold retaining clamps being released. They’re going to jettison the hold…”

  The XO was cut off in mid-sentence. Jason noticed on his HUD, The Lilly was no longer aboard the Battle Dreadnaught. He changed the display to an outside virtual representation of the Battle Dreadnaught and its surrounding vessels. Then he noticed the small rectangular hold floating in open space. With the exception of the forty-two disabled Craing vessels and those that did not have a clear firing solution, the entire Craing fleet opened fire on the hold. Bright bolts of energy shot from hundreds of Craing warships. In mere seconds, the hold container flashed bright white and then disintegrated.

  Chapter 21

  He didn’t really care if he died at that point. What he did care about was saving Earth and killing as many Craing as humanly possible. For now, his focus would remain on the mission. He couldn’t allow himself to linger on the horrific thoughts pulling at his subconscious. They’d still be there later, waiting for him. Jason, Billy, three SEALs, and the two rhino-warriors continued down the corridor in silence. Another large hatch blocked their advancement to the bridge.

  “Let’s blow the hatch,” Jason commanded, and watched as two SEALs placed the explosive charges. They all egressed back down the corridor. The hatch exploded and blew inward with a thunderous shockwave. Eleven hybrid combatants were waiting by the inside entrance to the bridge. The rhino-warriors stood aside. This time the SEALs would have the honor of engaging the enemy.

  To Jason, the hybrids looked as human as his own SEAL team, even wearing their own version of hardened combat suits. They were already so close that this was going to be a hand-to-hand confrontation. Then he noticed that Billy and his four SEALs had slapped a long protruding rectangular patch right below their hipbones on their hardened combat suits. A thirteen-inch Ka-Bar knife snapped forward from a hidden, quick-release mechanism. Jason followed suit and accessed his own knife.

  With pulse weapons held high, it became obvious the hybrids were not expecting close- quarters fighting; they were able to get off several bursts before they had to drop their weapons all together and defend themselves.

  Both Billy and Jason engaged their respective hybrid combatants with the exact same move at the exact same time—ducking low, while simultaneously spinning 180 degrees, and bringing their Ka-Bar knives up and under the hybrid’s breast plates and into their hearts. But neither hybrid went down. Fleetingly, Jason remembered hybrid General Bickerdike from the Pentagon and his two hearts. Billy must have remembered the same thing, because he and Jason double- thrusted their weapons, also at the same time.

  The other two SEALs began battling hybrids before the fallen two hit the deck. A sudden jolt of pain in Jason’s upper left shoulder made the use of his left arm less effective. At least with energy weapons, if you survive the hit, the wound is cauterized and you won’t bleed to death. The hybrids, even with better than two to one odds, didn’t have the training or skills necessary to repel the SEAL onslaught. As with Jason’s shoulder, others too suffered wounds, but none were fatal.

  The bridge was large, but Jason had assumed it would be much grander or more impressive in some way, especially based on the total size of the Battle Dreadnaught. Craing crewmembers were situated in ten rows at flight control and other system consoles. They stopped what they were doing. Wide-eyed, they first looked from Jason’s SEAL team, to the rhino-warriors, and then toward the aft section of the bridge where their officer’s section was located.

  The reflection from the gold medallion across the room made it easy. Jason pulled his plasma pulse sidearm and held it at his side as he strode across the bridge. All eyes followed his progress. Jason knew his men would be taking up parameter posts around the room. And it didn’t really matter where the rhino-warriors went; it was no secret they had just defeated a pack of raptors. No one was going to screw with them. The four officers watched Jason approach. Their bronze, copper, silver and gold medallions hung from thick metal chains around their necks. He raised his side arm and pointed point blank to the forehead of the small Craing officer wearing the gold medallion.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying?” The officers nodded their heads.

  The Craing captain flinched when Jason reached over and snatched the medallion from around his head and placed it around his own. “Do you know what this means?” Jason asked. The small alien nodded resignedly. “Do what I ask, and you will all live.” The remaining officers said nothing. “You have ten seconds to start firing on your fleet. If I don’t see Craing warships blowing apart soon after t
hat, you will all die. It’s you’re choice.”

  Jason watched the captain’s expression and realized he may have misjudged him. The captain was one of the few Craing he’d come across who seemed to have a backbone. His eyes were unwavering, almost calm. But the first officer, silver medallioned, moved his eyes back and forth and he was taking short quick breaths. Jason took a step back and looked around the bridge for Traveler. He was pacing at the far end of the bridge. Jason signaled him to come forward and they spoke in low tones until the large warrior nodded his massive head and headed back down the corridor. Less than a minute later, Traveler was back dragging a Serapin carcass leaving a smeared trail of red blood. Traveler unceremoniously dropped the carcass at the Craing captain’s feet. It was the carcass Traveler had used his heavy hammer on to flatten its head.

  “If you have any doubts as to what will happen to you, look on the floor in front of you,” Jason said, in a flat steely voice.

  “I can not do as you ask,” the Craing captain said, still showing not the slightest fear.

  He shot the captain where he stood, between the eyes.

  “Please do not harm us,” the Craing first officer said, to his fellow officers’ obvious relief.

  “What is your name?”

  “I am First Officer Calter.”

  “Okay, First Officer Calter, you now have five seconds,” Jason responded, raising his gun again.

  The officer yelled something in Terplin directly to the crewmembers at the closest consoles. All heads turned in his direction and there was an audible intake of breath and shock on their faces. But there was no movement. Jason walked over to the Craing sitting at the end of the console, raised his weapon and held it to his temple.

  “Tell them they will follow my orders or end up on the floor with the others.”

  But there was no need; the crew was now busy doing what was asked of them. Several large overhead monitors displayed fleet logistics. One of the nearby Craing cruisers flashed white and disappeared.

  “The rest of your fleet now considers you a combatant; I suggest you utilize this vessel’s defenses to its full advantage.”

  The first officer barked off more orders, scurrying back and forth between consoles. He then stopped and looked at Jason. “Even a Battle Dreadnaught cannot defeat five hundred warships,” he said, fear in his voice.

  “Well, it’s probably closer to four hundred and fifty, and if you’re right we’ll find out soon enough,” Jason replied.

  The battle raged on in open space. The Dreadnought continued to systematically concentrate a massive amount of combined energy from hundreds of separate plasma cannons toward single targets, just as the Craing fleet had used their combined resources to destroy The Lilly. It was clear that the Battle Dreadnaught was taking a devastating pounding as well. The occasional vibration on the bridge had turned to persistent, almost earthquake level shaking, making it impossible to stand without holding on to something solid, such as a console or bulkhead. The fleet repositioned their newer destroyer-type warships, which not only had the standard complement of plasma cannon weapons, but four turret-mounted rail guns as well. The death toll grew into the multi-thousands on both sides, as the three hundred or so remaining warships barreled down on the less and less effective Battle Dreadnaught. Half of its plasma cannons had become disabled, and large chunks of its outer hull had fractured off into space, a result of the destroyer’s powerful rail guns. Jason realized it wasn’t just Craing being slaughtered here, which was the price of war, but thousands of innocent beings held in their confinement cages.

  * * *

  Eight of the fifteen drop teams eventually called in, but there was no word from the shuttles, or from the three fighters, including Williams and the Pacesetter. They had returned to The Lilly and had met their fate. Not having The Lilly to handle logistics was initially a problem, but Jason had taken on the bulk of those functions himself, to the best of his ability, and issued orders directly to team leaders as needed. Systematically, they cleared the vessel.

  The security hover drones had continued to be a problem, but once the bridge was secured, they had been deactivated. Remaining roving packs of Serapins were still a problem and Jason’s crew stayed on the lookout. It was clear enough: the Craing never expected any of their vessels to be vulnerable to infiltration. That alone had allowed Jason to get as far as he had. But now, without The Lilly, Jason and his team knew they were fighting in vain. Eventually, the Battle Dreadnaught would fall and the surviving Craing fleet would simply continue on toward Earth.

  Pacing back and forth on the Craing bridge, Jason continued to see the writing on the wall. He needed to try something else. The Craing first officer was seated at a console several rows back. He was shaking, and tears streamed down his large triangular face. Not everyone was officer material. If you’re weak, pressure will snap you like a dry twig.

  “First Officer Calter, I need you to target the destroyers first, before the other warships. They’re causing too much damage. Do you understand?” Jason asked. “Also, fire at three vessels at a time instead of just one.”

  First Officer Calter didn’t move and had apparently gone into shock. Billy, frustrated, stood at Jason’s side looking down at the Craing officer.

  “Seriously?” said Billy

  A moment later Trailer joined them, his heavy hammer poised. Which triggered something because the first officer was back on his feet and barking orders to the Craing bridge crew again.

  That worked, to some degree. The destroyers were being eliminated three at a time. But only a third of the command ship’s plasma cannons were still operational, and substantial areas of the Dreadnaught were breaking off from the ship and floating free into space.

  Jason first thought it was his imagination, but he quickly realized the fleet’s bombardment had substantially decreased. He no longer had the need to grab hold of anything to keep upright. Then he realized why: Multiple small crafts had been deployed and were heading for the Dreadnaught.

  “Boarding teams,” Billy said, over their comms.

  Jason simply nodded, but it didn’t make any sense. Why bother? The Dreadnaught was starting to break apart, had mere moments left. Why not just finish her off? And then he had the answer: there was something or someone on board they wanted to save.

  Chapter 22

  Two of the SEAL teams were brought in to hold the bridge, while Jason, Billy, and the rest of their existing teammates headed off toward something called the Craing Grand Sacellum, some kind of shrine or sanctuary. Battle Dreadnaughts came equipped with ultra-fast hover train systems that connected throughout the ship. Made sense; it would be impossible to walk the distances necessary to get anywhere.

  As he stood looking out the train car’s large window, with a blur of colors and shapes streaking by, Jason almost let himself crack open that door where the pain could squeeze through and overpower his consciousness with their devastating loss. The train was slowing and, according to the nervous Craing first officer, they were to get off at the first stop. Surprisingly, there were very few Craing out and about. No doubt, they were hiding within their living compartments and cabins. The train was constructed with smaller inhabitants in mind, yet they’d managed to squeeze into the compartment with less than an inch or two of headroom to spare. The two rhino-warriors were uncomfortably hunched over nearly in half, impatiently awaiting the train’s destination. Soon after leaving the Dreadnaught’s bridge, communications with their fellow team members became impossible.

  The Craing Grand Sacellum was not dissimilar to a large church or mosque back on Earth, although the Craing were unique in how they integrated their diet and meal consumption with their religious precepts. Eating was not solely for the sake of nourishment. Apparently, the Craing required fresh meat, preferably from those most recently conquered. Where Earth’s slogan was from farm to table, the Craing version was from cage to table.

  The automatic doors slid open and Jason and his team exited the tr
ain car onto an open concourse. Not more than half a mile distance away, hundreds of Craing hybrids had arrived via transport ships and were now breaking into small combat units. Soon, several groups would attempt to retake their bridge; others would be headed to extinguish Jason’s team.

  The dreadful alarm sound was louder here. They knew they had found the right place; it was like no other they’d seen on the Dreadnaught. More like a palace than a place of worship—all gold, with tall spires and elaborately carved panels depicting scenes of Craing and the Serapin-Terplins, as well as carvings of Craing with tall, cone-shaped headdresses. Characteristic of an early 20th Century factory, dark, sooty smoke billowed from stubby chimneys at each of the distant two back corners of the edifice. The thought that initially crossed Jason’s mind as they made their way through the massive double doors was for such small-statured people they sure liked to build structures on a colossal scale.

  The elaborate building held nothing more than a huge feeding area inside. Typical of the other Craing ships, the room stretched several hundred yards in each direction. There were countless stone, donut-like tables. At their centers, dancing amber light emanated from fiery caldrons, and, similar to other Craing vessels, the rear of the Sacellum had direct access to the confinement cages. The screeching sounds from a pair of Serapins patrolling the above catwalks echoed off the gilded paneled walls. Thinking back to the tall spires viewed from the outside, Jason knew there had to be an access point to the Grand Sacellum’s upper floors.

  “Here we go, Cap,” Billy said on their comms. “Over here, stairs seem to lead to upper levels.”

  The winding staircase was a tight-fit for the rhino-warriors. The second floor was a bust, so they cleared it and continued on up the winding staircase. They hit pay dirt on the third floor. This was the same backdrop Jason had noticed behind the high priest earlier on. The room was not large, almost intimate in size and circular with more carved gold panels. Ten high priests, unarmed, in ridiculous cone-shaped headdresses, were kneeling before a gold Serapin statue. It stood on a marble pedestal; its outstretched muscular arms held a large fiery caldron over its head.