Boomer (Star Watch Book 3)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  “Nan … there’s a good chance she’s not dead.”

  There was a long silence over their NanoCom connection. “Don’t you dare tell me that, Jason.”

  “The body … it’s not Boomer. I don’t know whose it is, but it’s not our daughter.”

  Jason heard Nan break down. She was hundreds of miles away probably surrounded by other mourners—a solemn funeral service of sorts—and she was sobbing, unable to speak. It took several moments before she spoke again. “Okay … I need to get away from here. You’re really sure?”

  Jason let his eyes fall on Ricket, questioning him. As if reading his thoughts, Ricket not only nodded, he appeared hopeful. “Yes, Nan, I’m sure.”

  * * *

  Immediately after leaving the surface of Harpaign, aboard the same meandering shuttle, they made their way back to the StarDome—everyone reconvening there within the deluxe privacy of the Stellar. Nan, along with her ever-present, five-man presidential-protection detail, showed up less than a half-hour later. Now, a total of sixteen mingled aboard the Omni’s personal yacht. Mollie rushed into her mother’s embrace. Jason waited several moments before approaching his ex-wife. She looked tired and, eyes puffy, had obviously been crying her eyes out for days now. Just now forty-five, her long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, she had only become more beautiful. Seeing Jason over Mollie’s shoulder, Nan patted her daughter’s back twice before stepping aside.

  “Jason!” With no hesitation, Nan stepped forward and hugged him, too. “I can’t believe it … she’s alive … possibly?” Her words were muffled against his chest. She pulled away enough to look up at him—hope in her eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch. I know you’ve been suffering as much as me … maybe more so, since she’s always been close to your side. I’ve been horrible to you.”

  “Let’s just find her,” he said, stepping free of her embrace feeling somewhat self-conscious. With a disappointed expression, he said, “I thought Michael would be …”

  “Come on, Jason … our son’s a little too young to be involved in all this …”

  “No, you’re right. I just miss him.”

  Nan and Jason’s son was now going on six. Jason saw far too little of him. Something he planned on rectifying, soon.

  “You know … you could come visit more … he misses you. Talks about you incessantly.”

  Pangs of guilt clutched at Jason’s constricted throat. He nodded. This was not the time for this. His mind turned back to matters at hand.

  Jason at this point knew they needed to get a clearer indication of exactly what transpired on the surface of Harpaign. The official Blues’ accounting of the Sahhrain attack on their planet was sketchy at best. Although clearly an act of war, there was only the one attack. The Sahhrain had left Blues’ space then and didn’t return. Military support from the Alliance, specifically from Star Watch, was scheduled to arrive in force there within days. Since no further attacks had been instigated, Jason—as Omni of all U.S. fleet assets—although tempted, didn’t order immediate retaliatory action. Although the Blues unequivocally declared war immediately on their neighbors, the Sahhrain, that didn’t necessarily mean the Alliance would do so, as well. The underlying fact of the matter was the Sahhrain, too, had been an Alliance member for the past five years. It was complicated.

  Jason moved to the middle of the cabin. “Look, we have a limited amount of time before Star Watch arrives in force. At that point, my priorities mandate that I take command of the arriving fleet. For now, I’m simply Boomer’s father, and the rest of you are here on a non-official basis. We need to be careful. This is how wars start, and the last thing we need now is to inadvertently trigger something between the Blues and the Sahhrain … and the Alliance … that could be best settled through negotiations.”

  Jason looked at those around him. “This is what we know so far: According to the official logs, Boomer and nine other Tahli warriors were competing in something called the Goldwon Trials. Boomer, not allowed to speak directly with anyone on the outside, and far out of reach of NanoCom communications, sent word two weeks ago through Prince Aqeel. I received a personal communiqué from him that Boomer was on the verge of completing her years-long training period, and that there was only one more important, and dangerous, testing regime she had to undergo—more like a contest.”

  “Why weren’t we invited to the contest?” Nan asked with brows furrowed.

  “Apparently non-nationals … non-Blues … weren’t allowed there.”

  “Boomer’s not one of the Blues,” Billy said.

  “I know. But they conceded special allowances for her a long time ago. Anyway, from what the Blues’ logs tell us, it was during the contest the attack occurred. Tens of thousands of Blues were killed. Useful details have not been entered into their logs up to this point. Why? I’m not sure. Something fishy is definitely going on.”

  “Can we talk to Prince Aqeel directly?” Nan asked. “I can use my former position of president to—”

  “Aqeel’s here … and near death. Apparently he has suffered burns over most of his body. He’s in the hospital, under heavy guard.”

  “Why the hell don’t they put him in a MediPod and be done with it?” Billy asked, bewildered. “And what’s with guarding him? From whom?”

  “I don’t know. We’ve given them ten pods over the last few months. And they’re right there, on the StarDome. Something strange is going on. The Blues are being increasingly tightlipped. The more I press them to get answers the more resistance I’m getting.”

  “So what should we do?” Mollie queried.

  “The next step—I pay a personal visit to Aqeel’s bedside. If necessary, I’ll bring him back with me.”

  Chapter 8

  “Here? Like … onto the Stellar?” Leon asked.

  “Sure. We need answers now. There’s a fully functional MediPod below. Granted, it’s a cramped Medical department, but everything necessary is available there to help Prince Aqeel recover,” Jason said, showing pride in his new space-voyaging luxury yacht.

  “Everything but an actual doctor … like Dira,” Mollie said, immediately regretting her words. “Sorry, Dad … that was mean of me.”

  Jason couldn’t blame her for saying what everyone else was probably thinking. He and Dira, married four and a half years, had seen little of each other since their vows. Although the world of Jhardon had transformed from a monarch-ruled government to one successfully democratic, its populace was disinclined to forsake their royal heritage family, and their favorite royal daughter. In some respects, Princess Dira was the beating pulse of that nearly destroyed world. Beautiful and passionate, she’d become an advocate for the masses, against a less compassionate political machine, ruled with detached authoritarianism. Jason’s stolen getaways with her were often filled with arguments. Adding to that unrest, invariably each was frequently hailed to put out fires—Jason with Star Watch and the U.S. fleet, and Dira with matters of state on Jhardon. It was never a matter of waning love for either. In fact, the opposite was true—their long, many separations had been heartbreaking for both.

  Jason offered up a one-sided smile and said, “Ricket certainly doesn’t have Dira’s great legs, nor her warm bedside manner, but remember—he is an accomplished doctor in his own right.” He looked around the cabin—other than Dira and his father and Michael back on Earth—these were the most important people in his life. “I want to say something here: Over the next few days, I’m planning to do something other than act as the fleet’s Omni. I’m going to be breaking rules. I’m going to break a shitload of laws. I’m going to be selfish—attend to the needs of my family—my missing daughter. So I cannot ask any of you to join me on my … whatever this is … crusade. You have careers to think of; loved ones of your own to consider.”

  A grunt came from the back of the semicircle. A steamy snotty sprout shot into the air as Traveler, obviously agitated, pushed his way to the front of the group. “No, Boomer is also my fami
ly, Captain. Did she not risk her life for me … more than once? She is a brave warrior. Yes. I will gladly die to protect the one we call Boomer.” Traveler assumed a new position, standing tall behind Jason.

  Billy, his hands on hips, nodded empathically. “I agree. As annoying as Boomer could be, she was, is, as close a daughter to me as I’ll probably ever have.” Billy’s eyes flashed over to Orion before continuing: “I’m with you, Cap … let’s break some fucking laws.”

  Jason put both palms up, in mock surrender. “Hold on … hold on, everyone. Let’s let those who wish to return to the Sol System do so now. What you don’t know, can’t be used against you later.”

  Everyone looked around—as though daring anyone to break up the group’s solidarity.

  “I’m sorry, Captain,” Perkins said, looking nervous. “I can’t be a part of this. I’ve worked too hard to get my own commission. Besides, I’m needed back on the Minian. My crew counts on me.”

  “Uh huh, of course they do,” Hanna said sarcastically, her head cocked and her arms crossed over her chest, an expression of disgust on her face. Jason knew Hanna was not a huge fan of Perkins—his words only substantiated her feelings.

  “That’s fine,” Jason said, giving Hanna a disapproving glance. “There’s a U.S. fleet light cruiser moored just on the other side of the StarDome. They’ll be leaving within the hour, so go … make haste, Captain Perkins.”

  “Again … I’m sorry, Captain … Omni.” Perkins purposely avoided eye contact with any of the others. Looking as if he wanted to say something else, he abruptly rushed toward the hatch. It opened as he approached, then closed just as quickly after his departure.

  “Anyone else? Now’s the time,” Billy asked, sounding annoyed.

  Nan bit her lip. Looking reluctant, she said, “As much as I want to be a part of this … need to be a part of this, I don’t know how I’m able to help you. I’m not a warrior, like the rest of you. Perhaps I can better serve your efforts by remaining in Sol space in the background. Deflect attention off of what you’re doing, while still keeping you apprised of what’s happening.”

  Jason saw her protection detail of five visibly release long collective sighs of relief. It was unrealistic for a recently departed POTUS to gallivant around the galaxy, and it could bring undue attention to what must stay a highly secretive mission. Nan pulled Jason into a hug, her words lowered for his ears only: “Find her, Jason … if anyone can, it’s you.”

  “I won’t come back without her, Nan,” he vowed.

  Nan stepped away, keeping eye contact for several more beats. She turned, nodding to her detail, and headed for the hatch. Halfway across the cabin she suddenly halted and turned toward Mollie. “Are you coming?”

  Mollie shook her head. “I’m staying.”

  Nan’s smile was nearly imperceptible as she looked back at Jason. “Watch her.” With that, they were gone.

  Jason let out a breath, ready to move things along.

  “What?” Mollie asked, glaring at Hanna.

  Hanna, her arms still crossed beneath her breast, shook her head in Mollie’s direction. “I’m sorry, Captain, but I don’t think any of us should be babysitting your daughter when things might get … you know, dicey.”

  All eyes went to Mollie, including Jason’s. He was about to say something when Mollie took three quick strides forward to plant herself in front of Hanna. Standing straight—not a hair out of place—her white button-down shirt and short mini-skirt looked as fresh as they had when she put them on that morning. Under his breath, Billy murmured, “Oh boy …”

  Mollie said, “I don’t know who the hell you are, lady, and frankly I don’t give a shit. What I can tell you is that I have as much battle experience as you. Maybe more. I died from a plasma bolt to the heart when I was eight. I escaped the fangs of Serapin-Terplins, and I personally fought and killed more Craing than I care to remember. I fought at my mother’s side, against hundreds of zombie peovils, and lived to talk about it. Before there was a Boomer, there was me. Just me. So if you really want to know if I’m tough enough, just keep giving me that pretentious, superior, look!” Mollie’s index finger came up, pointing toward Hanna’s chest.

  You could hear a pin drop, no one uttering a word. Ricket was the first to move. As the two females glared at each other, he went to Mollie’s side and took her hand. “Mollie, I am sorry I shot you in the heart.”

  Rizzo, who’d quietly stayed in the background, was the first to let out a chuckle. Then one by one, the others followed suit. Soon, Hanna too let a smile cross her lips as the cabin erupted in laughter. Mollie was the only one not seeing humor in the situation after her heated rebuff.

  Dramatically, with her hands up, Hanna bowed in reverence toward Mollie several times. “I stand corrected. You are officially one badass chick and I’ve been properly chastised.” Hanna offered her hand and Mollie finally smiled and reluctantly shook it.

  “Okay, that’s enough drama for one day.” Jason turned to Leon. “You and Hanna can man the helm and get us clearance to leave StarDome. Traveler, Billy and Rizzo, I’ll need your help. Everyone else, hang tight. Oh … and Orion, there’s a small tactical station on the bridge. We may need your expertise there.”

  Orion nodded.

  “What do you want me to do?” Mollie asked.

  “Go down to Medical with Ricket. We’re about to acquire a new patient. Hopefully one who’ll be able to answer some questions—help us find Boomer.”

  “Captain, I’ve forwarded the phase-shift coordinates, showing Prince Aqeel’s estimated location in StarDome’s hospital,” Ricket said.

  “Thank you, Ricket.” Jason was first to initialize his battle suit, as Billy, Rizzo, and Traveler followed suit.

  “You have any weapons on this little luxury liner, Cap?” Billy asked.

  “I set up the Stellar’s armory, so what do you think?” Orion asked, leaving the cabin without looking in Billy’s direction.

  “Wait … the Benz has an armory?” Billy said.

  Chapter 9

  Jason waited for the Stellar to disengage from the StarDome and move some distance away. Even at thirty miles out, the immense space station was still visible—an impressive display of modern design and ingenuity.

  A dazzling gateway into the Dacci System, the StarDome was primarily designed and constructed by several commercial, mega-conglomerates on Earth, cropping up over the past five years. Big money was being made—via commerce between Space and Earth—and the U.S. and China and the re-configured USSR were taking full advantage of it. As part of the deal, the Blues demanded that they provide the bulk of laborers, which meant prolonged delays—expanding the training and education tools now required of their workforce. In the end, the StarDome did materialize and the Blues gained invaluable knowledge and experience from the joint endeavor, propelling them to develop even further their own recent manufacturing businesses—building and outfitting new space stations and ship-building platforms. Eventually, advanced space freighters and other spacecraft were built. All occupied space within the Allied territory. With a workforce that charged sums only a fraction of those levied within the Sol System—Liberty Station, the Alliance’s, and also the U.S. fleet’s, replacement for the destroyed, but now nearly operational, old Jefferson Station—the Blues also contracted work out to their three newly formed construction companies. Advanced electronics and weaponry implementation were provided entirely by U.S. military contractors.

  Again, Jason and his team reviewed the virtual schematic of the StarDome’s hospital and its surrounding compartments.

  “It’s a simple nab and grab, Cap. Rizzo and I alone can get in and out of there within two minutes,” Billy said.

  Looking at the virtual diagram, Jason had to agree. Perhaps it was overkill for Traveler and him to go along. The last thing they needed was a team tripping over itself. Jason hailed Ricket: “Can you come up here?”

  Thirty seconds later Ricket appeared, now standing at his side.
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  “How recent are these plans? I want to scan this area here—”

  “I’m sorry, Captain, but the Stellar does not have military-grade, short-range sensors to breach StarDome. Those schematics are at least three years old. Only from inside will you be able to scan the facility.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Most U.S. warships’ sensors are unable to see inside the StarDome. Only the Parcical, with her more recent Caldurian technology, would be up to the task.”

  “Yeah, well … bringing her here would add an even higher level of attention to what we’re planning to do. Best we keep this on the down-low.” Jason looked over to Billy. “No. It will be the four of us.” Pointing to a color-coded section on Level 83, he added, “This looks like some kind of supply room. We’ll phase-shift there first, and, should we need to, we’ll back right out.”

  They unslung their multi-guns, then lowered their visors. “Do us the honor, Ricket?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  In a brilliant white flash, they phase-shifted from the Stellar’s main passenger cabin into total blackness.

  * * *

  Jason quickly reviewed his HUD readings and found no other life forms in the near vicinity. With their helmet beams coming on, they took in the tight, close-quarters surroundings. It was definitely a storeroom of sorts. So far so good.

  Billy approached the hatch and it automatically opened. He peered out then turned back. “Cap … um … you’re going to want to take a look at this.”

  Jason looked past Billy into the dimly lit passageway. Taking two strides, he slid past Billy and peered out. Yes, indeed, it was the hospital, but it was completely deserted. He walked over to a circular hub—a station for attending doctors and nurses—and ran a finger over the countertop, leaving a streak in the thin layer of dust.

  “What the hell?” Jason, pointing fingers in different directions, said, “Let’s split up and take a look around. Stay on the open channel.” Jason then headed down, from what he remembered seeing on the schematics, the hospital’s primary hallway. A doublewide hatchway appeared off to his right, and once through it, he entered into what he knew was the largest compartment within the hospital itself. Jason stepped closer to the nearest object and pulled a plastic tarp away, letting it fall to the deck. A brand new MediPod sat there, its shipping straps still intact. Peering inside, he noticed a container, filled with unused mounting hardware. Moving to the next covered object, he pulled its tarp away and let it too slide to the deck. Again, another uninstalled MediPod. One by one, he pulled the tarps away—a total of ten pods—none installed.