Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Jason continued to stare at Lieutenant Grimes.

  “What is it … do I have something on my face?” She wiped at her cheeks, mystified.

  Jason slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “That’s it … you’re a genius, Grimes! We’re going about this all wrong.”

  Both Ricket and Bristol turned their attention toward Jason.

  “We’ve seen it time and time again … Ot-Mul’s forces, as enormous as they are, are only bound together by concern and fear of Ot-Mul’s reprisals … in part by that advanced ship of his, but more so by those battle droids. It’s certainly not from a sense of loyalty, or to honor his cause. And that just doesn’t hold up in the long run. Why? Because the minute their fear of reprisal disappears, his Drac-Vin forces will scatter like cockroaches in the light.”

  “So how do we take away their fear of reprisal?” Grimes asked.

  “That’s the million dollar question.” Jason, rubbing at the three-day-old stubble on his chin, turned to face those seated behind him. In one unanimous voice they all said together:

  “Set a trap!”

  * * *

  It took fifteen minutes to get an open channel through to Allied space, specifically to the admiral on board the Minian.

  “Look, I’m ecstatic you’ve rescued Ricket and Gaddy … that’s wonderful news, Jason. But this half-baked idea of yours, it’s too damn risky.”

  Jason, standing at the stern of the Starlight, was using his virtual notebook to display before him his father’s holographic image.

  “You need to stick to your plan, son … get that prison ship into that wormhole and close it down … whatever that takes.”

  “And then what, Dad? Do you think Ot-Mul will just pick up his marbles and go away? You don’t think he’ll travel an extra month or two, or whatever’s necessary, to reach another loop wormhole, and eventually find his way back to Allied space? Then what? You going to come up with a few hundred thousand more warships to fight him by then?”

  “What you’re talking about is an all-or-nothing gamble. Putting everything on the line … billions of lives at risk, in one roll of the dice,” the admiral said.

  “What you’re not getting, Dad, is that an attack is coming anyway; it’s inevitable. Either now, or two months from now, it’ll be over for Allied space … Earth included. We’re dealing with a powerful, but deranged, leader. We should use that to our advantage and take him out. I assure you, Dad, when we take out Ot-Mul, his Drac-Vin forces will surrender; or, worst case scenario, scatter to the far reaches of space.”

  The admiral was quiet for several moments while he considered Jason’s words. “If—and this is a big if, right now—I approve just what you’re planning … what would you need from me?”

  “A call to battle.”

  “So you’re talking about a last stand?”

  “Yes, and it will require every asset you can get your hands on. You’ll need to reenlist the Allied worlds … including any that broke away, preferring to go it alone months ago. You’ll also need the Minian and The Lilly.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Ot-Mul is no fool. He’s bringing his forces through that wormhole, but he won’t come through it himself, or send his battle droids through it all at once. We have to convince him he has no other choice than to come through it from the get-go, along with his droids.”

  The admiral was slowly nodding his head. “You see us picking them off as they come through the wormhole … pigs to the slaughter. He’ll have no choice but to rush through it himself to defend his massacred Drac-Vin. I like it.”

  “The second he does that, we drive Dreathlor into the wormhole and blow it up … closing the wormhole down … cutting Ot-Mul off from the rest of his forces.

  “There’s another big risk here,” Jason quickly added. “Initially, many warships will come through that wormhole. Maybe thousands. And we will still have to deal with the battle droids and Ot-Mul’s advanced destroyer. It could be close … we could still lose everything.”

  Jason knew he’d said all he could. The decision was out of his hands. He’d follow his father’s command.

  “You’ve made your case, Jason. But it’s not completely up to me. This call to battle you’re talking about … I’m not sure there’ll be enough of a positive consensus from the Allied worlds. Some have cut all ties with my command … it could take days—”

  “This is happening now. Right now. Within the next hour the first of Ot-Mul’s warships will start funneling into Allied space. At the very least, the Minian and The Lilly need to be there, ready to fire off everything they’ve got. I suggest you open up an interchange wormhole and get those three reconditioned Craing fleets moved over. Five thousand warships will go a long way toward slowing down the Drac-Vin. It will also leave Ot-Mul little choice but to join in the fight.”

  “Okay, son. We’ll do this your way. You can count on the majority of assets under my control to arrive there within the next forty minutes. I won’t leave Earth completely unprotected, though. As for the others who were once part of the Alliance, I’ll reach out to them. That’s all I can do. Realize an undertaking like this … this call to battle is a massive logistical nightmare. I have a lot to do. I’ll contact you when we’re in position.”

  Jason said, “Just so you know … the war will be lost or won, one way or another, as a result of what transpires here.” Jason cut the connection.

  * * *

  Word spread quickly throughout what remained of the Allied worlds. Dira was called away from her mother’s bedside when she learned of the imminent battle—a battle due to take place closer to Jhardon than to any of the other Allied star systems. More destruction, more strife, looked to be on the horizon. As if her people hadn’t suffered enough.

  She found her father sitting at his desk, three aides standing around him. He stood when he saw Dira enter the room.

  “Leave us.”

  Looking frustrated, the three aides protested. Viceroy Rhonn said, “We need to make our stance clear, Your Majesty.”

  “And we will, I assure you, Viceroy Rhonn. The princess, your future queen, must be brought up to speed. Leave us now.”

  Reluctantly, the three aides left the king’s side, hurrying to leave the antechamber. Viceroy Rhonn made no attempt to hide his disdain for Dira as he brushed past her.

  “Rhonn’s an ass. Why do you keep him so close? You know he hates me.”

  “He hates everybody, Dira. Especially those he can’t control. He balances out, though, others who are more concerned with kissing my backside. You’ll need to learn this, Daughter: you must rule from a position of knowledge … informed decisions. Surrounding oneself only with ‘yes men’ is a sure way to run astray.”

  “What is happening, Father? I’ve been told there will be another battle. A battle to end all battles. And here, close to Jhardon space.”

  King Caparri placed an arm around Dira’s shoulder and together they moved toward the door. “It is true. Earth’s high command has requested our participation, as well as that of the other Allied planetary systems. We have been asked to join forces—to come together one more time.”

  Two doors down from the king’s antechamber they entered his map room. Dira had been in the room many times before, had played there as a child. Before coming to an understanding of the virtual technology behind the room’s facade, to her it was simply a magical place—the heavens above literally within reach. Here, she first dreamt of exploring the far outer reaches of space … she loved this chamber. It had been, at least partially, one reason she’d left home to crew on board The Lilly. That, and to get away from her oppressive parents.

  As if walking into space itself, they stood together in the middle of the large, totally dark, room. Then, in a blaze of color and light above and all around them, Jhardon’s star system came alive.

  Her father, his face full of wonder as he took in the virtual planetary system glowing all around them, spoke softly. “Jhard
on space … our home. What’s left of our home …” Like God Himself, the king used his outstretched hands to reposition the virtual planets around them. Jhardon was closest now, taking up much of the heavenly scene. As the beautiful emerald planet rotated on its axis, soon the blackened scorched side of the planet came into view. Dira felt the familiar dread, the squeezing of her heart.

  “This is what awaits the other planets, Dira.”

  “Perhaps it’s time to let others—”

  “Is that how you’ll rule, Daughter? Letting others fight for you? Letting other nations defend our planet?”

  “I’m not capable of making those kinds of decisions! That’s your job,” Dira snapped back.

  “My place is with your mother … you know our ways. The choice I’ve made.”

  “Let me heal her! Let me bring the technology here to make her well again, Father. She needs a MediPod. You can continue to rule together, as you have, and I can …”

  “That is not our way, Dira. Genetic alterations, nanite-infused physiologies … the Queen of Jhardon cannot undergo such abominations.”

  “Well, guess what, Father? The queen-to-be has had all of that done. I’m packed with nanites and have had multiple alterations to my genome. I thought you knew that!” Looking at her father’s face, she realized he did not. He looked deeply troubled.

  “I cannot undo the damage you have done to your own body … the dishonor you bring upon our honorable lineage. What I can do is preserve what we do have … what the Queen symbolizes to her people. So you will stop with any more talk of immorality … things that are contrary to the Jhardon way of life. Is that understood?”

  Dira opened her mouth to refute her father’s narrow-mindedness, but stopped. This was not the time. She left the map room without saying another word.

  Chapter 24

  Jason had taken over Bristol’s seat in the cockpit and was now reviewing their plan as it appeared on his virtual notepad. Much of Jason’s strategy hinged on Ot-Mul staying in touch with his forces as they exited the near end of the wormhole and into Allied space. Jason was fairly confident he also would be sending through the wormhole one of his four battle droids in that first batch of ships. The droid’s advanced Caldurian technology would be Ot-Mul’s eyes and ears, back in his command ship, and would also stymie thoughts of desertion from his warship commanders. The irony of the situation demanded the Allied forces keep that droid in one piece—at least long enough for it to communicate back to Ot-Mul that his Drac-Vin forces were being annihilated.

  Gaddy, who’d made a full recovery after her stint in the medical bay, now assumed the popular position of standing between the two cockpit seats. Jason was only half listening to what they were saying.

  Grimes switched to a logistical view on her display to show Allied space. “You see, Gaddy, the loop wormhole is approximately one light-year away from the nearest star system … which is here … the Jhardonian system.”

  Jason looked up from his virtual notepad to see what Grimes was referring to.

  “Although technically a part of what’s called the Alliance, Earth is approximately thirty light-years from Jhardon and about that same distance away from most other Allied systems, as well.”

  “So how far away are Ot-Mul’s Drac-Vin right now?” Gaddy asked.

  “They are still back here, at Alnitak, which is a triple star system; it’s within a zone people on Earth refer to as Orion’s Belt. It’s about seven hundred and sixty light-years away.” Grimes changed the display again, showing the Drac-Vin forces on a direct vector toward the loop wormhole; the Starlight and Dreathlor prison barge were on a thirty degree angle secondary vector—one that put them slightly farther away from the loop wormhole than Ot-Mul’s ships; and then the thirty or so warships in close pursuit behind Dreathlor.

  “So we’re going to reach the wormhole after Ot-Mul?” Gaddy asked, looking confused. “I thought the plan was to get there beforehand, so we can close it down.”

  This time Jason answered, “That’s no longer the plan. We’re still going to shut down the wormhole, but the idea is to coax Ot-Mul into going through it early on—separate him from the rest of his forces. Even the odds.”

  “And, again, how are we shutting down this wormhole? I didn’t know that was even possible,” Gaddy added.

  The answer came from Ricket, who was seated in the first row, directly behind the cockpit. “We’ll have to bring Dreathlor’s ion engines into an unstable state. Right before things go critical, we’ll put her at the opening of the wormhole.”

  Gaddy turned toward the display, then back to Ricket. “I’m confused. With all Ot-Mul’s warships in a bottleneck at the wormhole, how do you plan on getting the prison barge into it too?”

  Jason said, “We’re still working that out. As of right now, we’re hoping every ship just moves out of Dreathlor’s way. Undoubtedly, she’ll eventually come under fire. We’ll have an opportunity then to see just how impregnable that hull of hers really is.” Jason stood. “Here, take my seat, Gaddy. It’s time I checked in with the admiral.”

  Jason stepped out of the way as Gaddy took his seat. “Ricket, let’s take a walk.”

  Together, they made their way down the aisle. Most of the team was asleep. Good, they’re going to need their rest, Jason thought. He had been able to catnap a little over the past few hours, but definitely felt a twinge of jealousy as he passed Traveler, sitting off by himself, snoring loudly enough to wake the dead.

  Jason moved toward the same location on the Starlight’s stern as before, and brought out his virtual notebook. About forty minutes had passed—time to reconnect with the admiral. Jason began going through communication protocols to obtain an interstellar channel when Ricket put up a hand to stop him.

  “I’ve made the connection for you, Captain.” He tapped at a virtual icon on the notepad and Admiral Reynolds’s head and upper torso appeared before them.

  “Ricket … you’re a sight for sore eyes, my friend.”

  “Thank you, Admiral. It is good to see you, too.”

  “Where are we at, Dad?” Jason asked.

  “Not as far along as I planned to be. Our three Craing fleets are moving much slower than I hoped. We’re using both the Minian and The Lilly to generate interchange wormholes for them. Less than half, about twenty-five hundred ships, have arrived so far in Allied space.”

  “So you’re there now?” Jason asked.

  “Correct … As for bringing together our Allied friends … that’s not going so well, either. In fact, there’s more than a little hostility from them that we’re planning on battling Ot-Mul’s forces in their backyard. They feel they should have been part of our conversation, which they absolutely should have been.”

  “So what’s your feeling? They going to help us or not?”

  “I don’t know … I can’t force them to. All indications are they’re going to batten down the hatches and try to weather the attack without bringing undue attention to themselves.”

  “This won’t work without their ships, Dad. We’ll need ten … hell, twenty thousand warships, minimum.”

  “We still have some time. I haven’t given up yet. But what it gets down to is this: they’ll listen to one of their own worlds far more than they will an old admiral from Earth. Bringing Jhardon on board would go a long way toward influencing the other systems. I can reach—”

  “No, I’ll do that. Just keep doing what you’re doing, Dad.”

  Jason cut the connection and answered a hail from Grimes.

  “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

  “Captain, the first of Ot-Mul’s fleet is closing in on the wormhole.”

  “We still have time … he’ll need to stage his assets. He’s got some major work ahead of him before sending forth those warships. What’s our ETA?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  “Keep me up to date.” He disconnected and turned to Ricket. “Can you get me an interstellar connection to Jhardon?”

  Ricket,
who’d taken over Jason’s virtual notebook midway through his conversation with the admiral, was currently busy doing something with it. Jason waited for him to finish. It always amazed Jason to watch Ricket at work. Even with the reversal from the transformation of eternity process changing him back from a cyborg into his natural Craing state of being, he was still chockfull of technology. More than once he’d added new internal nano-devices into his physiology. Perhaps he missed certain abilities he’d possessed as a cyborg? Or, more likely, he wanted the best of both worlds.

  “Captain, I have made the connection. A representative is holding for you. I must prepare for my return to Dreathlor prison barge.” Ricket handed over Jason’s virtual notebook and headed off toward the bow of the ship.

  Jason made the connection. While he formulated in his mind what he was going to say to Jhardon’s high command, Dira’s image appeared, bringing all thoughts of diplomacy and strategic angling to an abrupt stop.

  Dira smiled briefly but quickly resumed her role as Princess Caparri. “What is it, Captain Reynolds? This is not a … good time. There are matters of state I’m attending to.”

  “Sorry. I know you’re busy.” Jason let out a breath and did his best to ignore the fact that Dira looked spectacular. Even this digitized, holographic representation of her was having a profound effect on him. “By now you’ve learned of the imminent attack. Ot-Mul will be bringing his forces … all of them, through a loop wormhole, which is closer to Jhardon than to other Allied systems.”

  “I’ve been briefed,” she said, her expression stern. “My people have suffered. That is, what’s left of them from the last time Ot-Mul attacked us. We’re a defeated, suffering society; what more could you possibly want from us at this point?”

  She was right. Who was he to ask more from her people? Then reality set in.

  “Dira—Princess Caparri, when close to two hundred thousand Drac-Vin warships start funneling through that wormhole, those forces will have one directive: To be the arrow—create a swath of destruction from Jhardon through all of your neighboring star systems. And then aim further, all the way to Earth, thirty light-years away. What once composed the Allied Worlds will exist no more. Understand this … none of us can hide from that reality. What Ot-Mul started months ago, he’s come back to finish … and your planet will be the first one ceasing to exist.”