HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship)

by McGinnis, Mark Wayne

  “Also, as you’ll notice, our HUDs indicate the access port we just entered through as a blue rectangle with a corresponding signal level.”

  “I see it; it’s reading level 25. I take it that’s what we’re looking for with the other one?”

  “Yes, sir, but that port will show up purple—we’ll see it once we are within thirty miles,” Ricket said.

  Jason nodded and looked around, ensuring that everyone was present. “Listen up. No one goes anywhere by themselves—find partners and stay with them.” At that, everyone broke up into pairs. Jason noticed Dira and Morgan had selected each other to pair off with.

  "I thought I'd see more wildlife," Morgan said to no one in particular—looking through his riflescope and panning the horizon. “I’m ready to begin hunting season—right here in HAB 12.”

  "We've entered the area of the HAB 12 habitat with the least wildlife—basically arid desert," Ricket responded. "Note that the quadrant you are in is indicated on your HUD readout."

  Jason looked toward the far horizon and adjusted the optical zoom. First, past this desert, was quadrant 2, with its rocky terrain and dark red cliffs. Next would be quadrant 3, with its open plains and green pastures, and finally quadrant 4, where—at the far end of HAB 12—a forest of tall trees grew. "Okay, we’ll work our way through 2 and 3 and finish off in 4 if we haven't found the port sooner," Jason said.

  Two blocky-looking large hovercrafts appeared from behind the cliffs in quadrant 2, soundlessly moving across the terrain thirty feet off the ground and headed in their direction.

  "How cute, they look like big mail trucks," Dira said, smiling. Jason marveled at her light violet skin and long eyelashes for the umpteenth time. She moved to get a better view. To Jason she seemed to glide with effortless gracefulness. Each battle suit had been custom tailored for each team member based on full-body scan measurements. For that reason, the fit was perfect, comparable to having a second skin. It wasn't that Dira's battle suit fit better than anyone else's, it just seemed to look better on her than anyone else. Her long legs, narrow hips, and curvy backside had instigated more than a few leering glances—Jason’s included. He wondered if she was aware of the effect she had on men, or perhaps she just didn't care. Then he realized she was staring back at him, eyebrows raised. Caught in the act, he quickly averted his attention to something Ricket was saying.

  "Those are the feeding drones," Ricket responded. As if on cue, the two crafts stopped in mid-air. A moment passed before one of them opened a hatch and dropped several large slabs of meat onto the ground, no more than fifty yards ahead of them.

  "Something tells me we don't want to be standing this close to those things at feeding time," Billy said.

  "Multiple red icons!" Morgan yelled, spinning on his feet and positioning himself in a protective stance in front of Dira. Jason and Billy exchanged quick glances; both scowled at his overreaction.

  Jason inspected his HUD, viewing new life sign icons approaching from three sides.

  “They seem to be at a considerable distance. Let's head out, people," Jason said, moving off at a slow jog in the direction of quadrant 2. Orion quickly moved from the back of the pack to the front. Her long, muscular legs gave her nearly twice the stride as anyone else. Once even with Jason, he could see she was smiling. Orion wasn’t just competitive, she was a maniac. From arm wrestling Billy’s SEALs in the mess, to challenging anyone to beat her run-times in the gym.

  “Captain, there are a few things we didn’t have time to discuss earlier this morning,” Orion said. “I mean about our equipment.” Jason picked up his pace a little to stay even with her. In the middle of the pack, Morgan said, “Fuck—what’s the rush?” evoking chuckles from just about everyone. Jason let Morgan’s comment go.

  “What type of things are you talking about, Gunny?”

  She laughed. Then she was gone.

  Jason did a double-take, thinking his eyes had deceived him somehow. He scanned his HUD for her location. Perhaps she’d fallen behind in the pack, although that seemed unlikely. HUD icons included a two-letter name designation. The icon with the GY designation was gone. Jason slowed, feeling his heart rate increase. The team slowed down and came to a stop. There was a tap on his shoulder from behind; then a finger pointed toward an outcropping of rocks twenty yards ahead. Sitting lotus-style, like a Buddhist monk, Orion waited for them to catch up.

  “Looks like someone’s built a phase-shift device into their battle suit?” Jason called up to her.

  “Nope,” Orion replied, looking smug. “Anyone else have a guess?”

  Rizzo spoke up: “It’s not the suits, it’s our new combat belts.”

  “And the prize goes to Mr. Rizzo!” Orion said in her best announcer’s voice. Everyone looked down at their new combat belts. Several had complained earlier about them being awkward and heavy. Matte black and slightly over six inches wide and an inch thick, the belts seemed overkill for holding their Kay Bar knives and miscellaneous utility equipment.

  “We thought about adding the phase-shift components to the suits themselves, but our rhino-friends don’t wear battle suits. But if you’ll notice, they are wearing a specialized belt we provided them with.” The chattering group turned and looked at the ten rhino warriors. Each wore a new belt—much bigger than their human-sized versions.

  Jason shushed everyone. “Let’s bring it down a notch or two—this isn’t play time—we’re on a mission here. Go ahead, Gunny.”

  “Let’s start with the rhino-belts.” Orion waited for the snickers to subside from the new phrase she’d just coined. “Since our robust warrior friends do not wear helmets and don’t have access to our HUD system, that technology has been integrated into their wrist bands.” Orion jumped down off the rock and pulled Traveler away from the group. She pointed to the large black band on his wrist. “There’s two spring-release buttons on each side. Go ahead, Traveler.” With fingers as big as bananas, Traveler compressed the two side buttons on his wristband. The faceplate flipped open and the inside of the plate came alive with a miniature spatial representation of the local terrain. “This is similar to what the rest of you are going to see on your HUDs, and—this is important—once you select your phase-shift location. Go ahead, Traveler—use the touch screen to select the distance and elevation to where you want to phase-shift.” Traveler looked at the small display, then looked up and around at his surroundings. Once he’d correlated what he was visually seeing compared to the view on the small screen, he nodded and grunted his approval. He touched the screen. “Okay, folks, he’s just activated the unit and set the coordinates. He has twenty seconds to press the Activate key. Go ahead and press it, Traveler,” Orion said. Traveler disappeared. Everyone spun to see where he’d gone.

  “Can I get one of those for my ex-wife?” Billy asked with a wry grin and to more chuckles.

  Atop the same rock Orion had shifted to earlier, Traveler stood tall with his hands on his hips. His fellow rhino warriors cheered, then in unison smashed their heavy hammers together over their heads—their own unique version of a high five. The sound thundered and echoed into the distance.

  “Several more things you need to know about the belts,” Orion said. “First, you need to be extra careful where you’re phase-shifting to. Take care not to shift into solid rock or into the side of a mountain. Second, your phase-shift belts are limited to a thirty-yard radius. And third—and probably most important—because of extra-power consumption you’re limited to no more than five shifts per hour. Any questions?” Orion asked.

  “So, when can we try it out, Gunny?” Rizzo asked, smiling like a kid with a new toy.

  Orion looked over to Jason for approval. With his nod, everyone, including Jason himself, began to disappear and reappear within a thirty-yard radius. They were having fun. Even the typically serious rhino warriors were making the equivalent of laughing sounds. Within several minutes, all had used up their five phase-shifts. Unnoticed, twenty-five light blue raptor-like crea
tures called Serapin-Terplins, more commonly called Serapins, had completely surrounded the assault team.

  Chapter 9

  “You’re going to feel really really sick afterwards, Mom. I mean like you’ll want to barf all the time and your head will feel like it’s going to explode. But I’ll take care of you. Like I did Dad.” Mollie watched as the skinny med-tech named Allen helped her mother into the clamshell MediPod chamber. Once situated, her mother reached a hand out for Mollie to take.

  “Absolutely no going near the Zoo while I’m in this thing. Do you understand?” Nan commanded, scowling at Mollie, then bringing her attention up to the med-tech. “Allen, you’ll keep an eye on her?”

  Allen was entering information onto the keypad and had already initiated the clamshell to start closing. “She’ll be fine, Nan. I have some work she can help me with around here for the next few hours.”

  The MediPod closed and Mollie could see her mother’s face looking back at her through the little rectangular window. Her mother mouthed the words you be good!

  Mollie smiled and turned to Allen. “So what do you want me to do? I don’t know anything about medical-type stuff.” Then she noticed someone else had entered Medical. Both Allen and Mollie looked to see who, but they only caught a glimpse of someone turning the corner to leave the room.

  “Alright, off with you Mollie. I have things to do,” Allen said, not looking up from what he was working on.

  “I thought you said you had stuff for me do around here,” Mollie said, looking confused.

  Allen finally looked up, annoyed. “I have way too much work to do to be playing babysitter to an eight-year-old. Your mother will be fine, so check in later. Why don’t you go get a bite to eat? Out. Scoot.”

  Mollie had to take several quick steps back as Allen rushed by, disappearing into the lab section of Medical. She continued to watch her mother sleep for a few more moments. “Why don’t you get a bite to eat?” she mimicked the med-tech’s high-pitched voice instruction. “Dork,” she said a little louder. She slowly turned and headed out of Medical. In the corridor, Mollie headed for the DeckPort that would take her down to the second deck of the ship. She knew the layout of this ship as well as anyone. She’d spent hours exploring hidden areas that even her own father didn’t know existed. And her parents fussed and worried about her—not having kids her own age to play with. But she did have the best friend anyone could ask for.

  “Lilly, want to play a game?” Mollie asked out loud, opting not to use her now-activated NanoCom.

  “Good morning, Mollie. Yes, that would be wonderful. What would you like to play?”

  “Hot and Cold, of course, silly.” Mollie began skipping down Deck 2 corridor. “Give me something harder to find this time, Lilly. Don’t go so easy on me.”

  “Okay, Mollie, I have a real stumper for you. Are you ready?” The Lilly AI asked.

  “Give it to me.”

  * * *

  Lieutenant Commander Perkins sat in the command chair and surveyed the bridge. With Jason and the others gone, he’d be pulling double and even triple shifts for a while. Not that there would be much going on. He knew that FTL travel was about as exciting as watching your toenails grow. He leaned back into the seat’s wide padded cushion. He could get used to this. He liked the sound of the word Captain. Sure, being the XO was nothing to sneeze at, but come on, it wasn’t Captain, was it?

  “Excuse me, XO, we’re receiving incoming markers for an FTL transmission,” McBride said from the helm. “They’re requesting a private channel with the captain.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. It’s a deep space communication. It’s marked high-priority and confidential.”

  Perkins thought for a moment, unsure what to do. McBride was still looking back over his shoulder at him and waiting for his answer.

  “Send a reply that Captain Reynolds is currently indisposed and is not on the bridge. Let them know that I’m the XO and available.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Perkins knew that McBride’s response, depending on the recipient’s distance, could take up to several hours. Perhaps he should contact the captain, but then again, Jason had been fairly explicit: handle the everyday minutia, XO, unless it’s an emergency. No, he’d find out what the FDL communication was all about before contacting Captain Reynolds. Why was he over-thinking this?

  “We’ve got a response, sir,” McBride reported.

  “That was quick. Have you picked up anything on long-range sensors?”

  “No, sir. Not within the last few hours.”

  “What’s the message?”

  “They need to speak with Captain Reynolds.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Perkins noticed there was a commotion going on in hushed voices between two seaman first class guys to his right at the tactical station. Both young men were recent recruits from the Earth Alliance outpost. What made the two men unique, and a constant irritation, was they were identical twins. Jeffery and Michael Gordon not only looked the same, stocky and with their heads shaved, they also had identical-looking moles on their right cheek. Inevitably Perkins, and everyone else for that matter, got them mixed up. An order, issued to Seaman Gordon, was given to the wrong twin to fulfill. Under normal conditions the two were never assigned to the same shift.

  “What’s the problem over there, Seaman Gordon?” Perkins asked.

  The two Gordon brothers turned to face the XO. Perkins eyed the name tags on their spacer’s jumpsuits. “Seaman Michael, what’s the matter?”

  “Sir, I picked something up on long-range scans. At least I thought I had. Definitely a vessel’s signature. I saw it plain as day, but the AI won’t confirm the identification. She would have seen it long before me, too. Jeffery thinks I’m imagining things, but I saw it, sir, plain as can be.”

  “Alright, just stay on your posts. Lilly, what do you see as showing up on long-range scans?”

  “There are no vessels within long-range scans at this time, sir.”

  Perkins looked at the two identical twins. “Just continue on. Keep an eye out, Jeffery. I mean Michael.”

  * * *

  His mind reeled. Days and weeks had become long drawn-out months. Always told to be patient—that his time would be coming soon. It had been difficult to maintain the charade and hide his hatred, but now, at last, the orders had come through. The nondescript seaman sat alone in his small dark quarters. A red scar on his arm peeked out below the sleeve of his jumpsuit. He pulled down on his left sleeve, obscuring it from view. The fold-down desktop was strewn with a myriad of intricate tools and small complex-looking devices. He furrowed his brow at the small desk light connected to the bulkhead via an adjustable swing arm. It was obscuring his view, making it difficult to complete his task. He angrily bumped the light aside with the back of his hand and glared at it for being such an irritation. He took a breath, tried to relax, and readjusted the light to where it was supposed to be. He added the final high-capacity optical array unit to the sub-straight and held the six inch square module up, admiring its elegant circuitry. He smiled, something he rarely had an occasion to do, and placed the now-completed module next to the other two off to the side.

  Feeling hungry, the seaman pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, his eyes never leaving the three devices. Moving backwards he felt for the doorframe, found it, and stepped out into the corridor. Three minutes later he arrived at the mess. A short line had formed. He glared at the chubby man serving food behind the counter. What’s his name? Oh yeah, Plimpton. The seaman imagined what one of his little devices would do to the slow-moving server behind the counter—hell, to everyone in the mess. He allowed himself another brief smile.

  Chapter 10

  Even before Jason made the command to take up defensive positions, the ten rhino warriors were already moving to encircle the team. Jason silently cursed himself for dropping his guard in what he knew was a hostile environment. Dira and Ricket moved to the cent
er of the group, staying low and out of the way. Jason, Billy and the rest of the SEALs maintained an inner defensive circle, several steps behind the rhinos, with their multi-guns at the ready. The Serapins approached, moving forward slowly, tentatively.

  “Cap, I don’t think these are the same guys we ran into on the Dreadnaught,” Billy said over their comms.

  “Yeah, heads are a bit bigger. And those guys didn’t talk,” Jason replied. One Serapin was making more noise than the rest. He pointed an almost human-like finger and more Serapins scurried around to the assault team’s flanks. Deep growling sounds filled the air. A constant flow of drool, thick and stringy, dripped from bared teeth. At thirty yards out they had completed the circle around the assault team. Jason and the Serapin leader made eye contact. A silent acknowledgment between leaders—both stood immobile for several moments. At over seven feet tall, and easily a thousand pounds of mostly muscle, Jason measured his Serapin opponent. A warrior in his own right, a scar crossed from the left side of his long-flared snout to its other side, continuing up past his right eye. Almost inaudibly, the Serapin leader made one more singular sound. The attack came in a blur.

  The Serapin leader came directly for Jason—strategically a good move. Jason was ready for him. He brought his multi-gun up, aimed for his head and squeezed the trigger. Nothing. In fact, nobody was firing their weapons. A rhino warrior had moved in front of the scar-faced leader.

  “Ricket, what the hell’s going on with our weapons?” Jason yelled into his comms.

  “You need to set the firing mode, Captain.”

  “Shit!” Jason barked. He hastily selected the first firing mode from the menu selection, not knowing nor particularly caring what it was. Unfortunately, firing modes were listed from the least to the most lethal settings—inadvertently, he’d selected a stun-level setting.