The feed went black.
Chapter 39
Boomer’s next attempt to phase-shift to a higher deck was more successful this time. She’d accomplished a phase-shift—but it was only as high as deck two, and she was now standing within a holding cell there. There was screaming coming from above. She heard her mother’s voice. Something is coming. What was coming? Whatever it was, Boomer knew she needed to get up there—fast. She had a pretty good idea now how to move—how to set her phase-shift coordinates to a higher access plane via the virtual representation of the ship on her HUD. She needed to avoid phase-shifting right on top of someone; her shift coordinates would need to be some distance away from where she saw the life icons were—where they were all bunched together. She double-checked to see where, exactly, she needed to go—it was deck eight. The screams from above had dissipated somewhat. The Craing soldiers there had moved away, were now descending on the lift. Good. Boomer phase-shifted.
Again, Boomer found she’d phase-shifted into a holding cell. She was directly across from the four-sided, expansive open space, just opposite her mother and Mollie. But why’s Mom lying on the deck with her clothes off? She squinted her eyes, then used the HUD’s zoom capability. Oh my God!
“That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen!” Boomer wasn’t aware she’d spoken the words out loud. Both Mollie and Dira looked across the open quad-space in her direction.
“Boomer?” they said in unison.
“I’m coming,” she replied. She picked a location directly across the catwalk, just outside their holding cells, and phase-shifted.
She appeared on the catwalk in a flash and looked down into the holding cell. Sure enough, a small head protruded between her mother’s legs. Boomer involuntarily cringed.
“She’s having a baby … don’t make that face!” Mollie said, reprimanding her.
Her mother screamed.
“Keep breathing … in and out … in and out,” Dira said.
Boomer knew what having a baby was all about. She also knew Dira was a doctor and needed to be in there, next to her mother. She set her sights on the far side of Dira’s cell and phase-shifted inside. Dira quickly glanced at her but another scream from her mother pulled her attention away. Boomer rushed forward, put both arms around Dira’s shoulders, and phase-shifted again.
They were now within the same cell as Mollie and her mother. Dira rushed to Nan’s side and began to help support the emerging baby from her mother’s body. Boomer looked at Mollie. “That’s so gross.”
“I think it’s cool,” Mollie said.
The little body was out and now in Dira’s arms. “It’s a boy!” she said, but her excitement was short-lived. The baby wasn’t making any sounds. Nan was crying. She said, “He’s too young … he’s too young to be born … oh my god …”
Tears were running down Dira’s face. Using two fingers, she started gentle chest compressions on the baby’s tiny upper torso. She shook her head.
“I have an idea,” Boomer said. She immediately initiated the steps necessary to retract her battle suit. As the last of the suit segments compressed back into the little SuitPac, she moved over to Dira’s side. “Can we put the baby in the suit?”
Dira looked at Boomer, her brow furrowed; then, as realization took hold, a smile spread across her lips. “Give it to me!” She took the small SuitPac device and placed it on the infant’s chest. Carefully, she placed the baby on the pile of Nan’s discarded clothing. She compressed the two activation sensors, quickly taking her hand away.
The SuitPac quickly began to transform. A tiny version of the battle suit took shape around the infant’s little body. Within seconds, Boomer was looking into the tiny helmet’s visor. The baby still wasn’t moving. His eyes were closed.
Nan said, “Give him to me.” She held the suit-clad baby in her arms and stared into the small visor. “Breathe … oh god ... please breathe, little one.”
The baby made a noise. Not exactly a cry, more like a gulp or gasp. Boomer looked to Dira with a hopeful expression. “Will he be okay?”
Dira moved to Nan’s side and stared at the baby’s face. “I think so. I think you’ve just created a preemie’s incubator, Boomer. The battle suits have all kinds of life support functions … even limited MediPod capabilities. You saved the baby’s life, Boomer.”
Nan reached for Boomer with her free arm and pulled her close. Her tears fell and splashed onto the baby’s small visor.
Mollie giggled, “Look, his little fingers are grabbing my fingers.”
Boomer watched as the tiny fingers wrapped around Mollie’s pinkie. She turned to see Dira looking toward the adjacent cell. The body of a large man, dressed in fancy clothes, lay inside. It was the king … Dira’s father.
Boomer moved closer to Dira and put her arms around her, holding her tight.
“I’m sorry, Dira. I wish I had two SuitPacs with me.”
Dira placed a comforting hand on top of Boomer’s arm. “It wouldn’t have helped … he was beyond saving. He died bravely, though. He was a brave and wonderful father. A magnificent leader … the people’s king.”
The sound of lift motors engaging eight decks below brought them back to the reality of their situation.
Dira looked around the small cell. “Nan, you need to get your clothes back on … we need to hide the baby. Damn! I’m not supposed to be in this cell.” She looked at Boomer and shook her head. “You’re not even supposed to be here.”
The sound of the lift’s rise within the open shaft spurred them to move quickly. Nan handed the baby to Dira and pulled on her dressy slacks. She swayed on her feet and looked as if she was going to topple over. While Nan finished buttoning her blouse, Dira looked about the cramped holding cell for a place to hide the baby. “There, in the corner.” Dira placed the small shape in the SuitPac down on the deck. “Boomer, sit here, right in front of him, and try not to move. Block their view of him, okay?”
Boomer nodded and did as she was told. She watched her mother finger-brush her hair, so as not to look like she’d just delivered a baby. Mollie stood in front of her mother, while Dira stepped back, close to her own cell, and leaned against the bars.
The lift reached deck eight. As the metal gate clanged open, Boomer closed her eyes and settled her breathing—willing her pounding heart to slow down. A sense of calmness returned to her entire being, just as Chief Petty Officer Woodrow had taught her months earlier. She’d need to be a warrior now … not a helpless girl. She closed her eyes and listened. There were four of them. Short steps … all were Craing. She waited for them to come into view down the catwalk.
Three soldiers were in front, the fourth following behind them. All were armed with energy weapons—the one in the rear had his weapon held high—something mounted atop the muzzle. Boomer guessed it was a camera. The Craing soldier was videoing this … recording them being killed?
The four soldiers halt in front of their holding cells and become uneasy. They look back and forth in the cell Dira occupied before. They yammer between themselves. Boomer listened, her internal nano-devices translating their Terplin. They’re certain the one with violet skin had occupied a different cell. What they’re not sure of—had another soldier moved her into this other cell? Were new orders issued they’re not privy to?
The soldier out front seemed to come to a decision and was already unlocking the cell door. The other three had their weapons trained inside. The door hinges screeched loudly as the door swung open. The baby began to cry … softly at first, and then louder.
The first soldier moved into the cell and roughly pushed Nan and Dira out of the way. Boomer, still seated with her arms around her knees, looked up into the face of the Craing soldier. His head turned side to side, like a confused puppy, as more crying sounds came from behind her. Boomer waited for him to make his move. Then, she’d make her own move.
Chapter 40
They were operating with all available hands on the bridge. Like Jason, h
is XO, Lieutenant Commander Perkins, was well into his third straight duty shift. “Shields down to ten percent,” he announced, “and we’re about to lose both the starboard and port-side rear plasma cannons. It’s the heat … it’s affecting them all.”
“Phase-shift system up?” Jason asked.
“It should’ve been back alive two minutes ago,” McBride said, turning in his chair, apologetic. “We’re completely flanked from all sides … we’re literally at the center point of several thousand enemy warships, Captain.”
“Seaman Gordon, hail the Minian … scratch that … put out a distress call to the Minian.”
“Minian’s waiting for her own phase-shift system to recharge, sir.”
No sooner was Jason on his feet than The Lilly violently jerked, sending him sprawling across the command chair. “Damage report!”
“Shields down. We’re now taking direct hits. Multiple hull breaches reported on decks one and three.”
The Lilly shook violently again, and the sounds of plasma fire, bombarding the ship’s hull, were loud enough to hurt Jason’s ears. “Make an announcement … everyone’s to activate their SuitPacs, if they haven’t done so already.” He hesitated before saying the next words … words he had hoped he’d never have to say: “Be prepared to abandon ship.”
The young communications officer looked back at Jason with a shocked expression. Perkins moved over to the comms panel and made the announcement himself. Jason triggered his own SuitPac while registering the dire enormity of their present situation, showing on the logistics segment of the wrap-around display. He wondered whether he was now the last person alive in his family. Thoughts of Mollie and Boomer flooded his emotions with love and sadness. His next thoughts were of Nan and their unborn child. Then, of Dira, and the true love they’d never experience together. Perhaps, it was most fitting, he would soon be joining them.
Jason stared at the numerous individual display segments. Each view revealed a disheartening display of overwhelming Drac-Vin superiority. There’s so many of them.
“Captain … we have partial phase-shift capability,” McBride said.
“What exactly does that mean, Ensign?”
“The systems never fully recharged. We may be able to get out of the epicenter of this mess, though.”
“Give the orders for our fighter pilots to phase-shift back into the flight deck.”
It felt like hours but, in reality, was less than two minutes for The Lilly’s last fighters to be secured back on board.
“Do it, Ensign! Put us somewhere out of the action … Go!”
The flash came and went. All sounds of battle vanished and Jason was able to stand straight, without grasping the back of his command chair. “Where the hell are we?”
“Thirty thousand miles out from our previous position,” McBride said.
Orion added, “It’s a relatively unoccupied section of space. But venting to space … Drac-Vin sensors will pick us up, eventually.”
Jason sat down. “Casualties?”
“Twenty dead. Forty injured. Medical is overwhelmed,” Perkins said.
“So what’s left that’s still working?”
“Critical damage throughout the ship,” Perkins said. “We still have minimal sub-FTL propulsion; one plasma cannon and one rail cannon are operational; but with the phase-synthesizer only partially working … most of our phase-shift ordnances won’t be available.”
“How about shields? Any chance we can get them partially back up?” Jason asked Orion directly.
“No … no way, Captain.”
The finality of her statement took the rest of the bridge crew by surprise. Without shields, their fate was sealed. It was only a matter of time.
Ricket entered the bridge, breathing hard. He rushed to the command chair and tried to catch his breath. “Most of the DeckPorts are down.”
“Got any good news to share, Ricket?” Jason asked, attempting a weak smile.
“Perhaps I do, Captain.” Ricket turned back towards the entrance to the bridge.
Jason didn’t immediately comprehend what he was looking at. The entrance was blocked by something. A battle droid! Jason jumped to his feet and raised his arms, ready to fire on the mechanical beast.
“No, Captain!” Ricket shouted. “This droid’s been re-programmed. That’s where I’ve been the last five hours. Revising it into an Allied asset, plus giving it several new capabilities.”
“Captain, a ship … the Assailant has arrived in our local space,” Orion said. “She’s obviously fast and has cloaking devices. She wasn’t anywhere near here several moments ago.”
“We’re being hailed, Captain,” Seaman Gordon said.
This was what Jason had dreaded—Ot-Mul resuming his live-video feeds. Who would be slaughtered before his eyes this time? Were any of them even alive still? He contemplated not answering the hail. Just finish up the battle between them, between warships. But he had to know … one way or another.
“Captain, no less than a thousand ships are moving into this area of space. They’re positioning themselves—flanking us again.”
“A new hail, Captain—”
“I’m well aware Ot-Mul wants to resume his—”
“No, Captain … there’s a second hail. It’s from … an Admiral Ti.”
Jason then realized all the approaching vessels’ icons, as viewed on the logistical display segment, weren’t the same bright red color. Some were green, indicating they weren’t exactly Allied ships—but more like possible friendlies. What he was seeing was the lost fleet of the Mau. Once, close to four hundred warships had abruptly left the sector. Not totally unexpected—especially since the Craing, specifically Ot-Mul, and his Vanguard fleet of dreadnaughts, had destroyed their planetary system … in essence, making the Mau fleet of four hundred ships homeless. And yet now, here they were.
“Please have Admiral Ti stand by. Put Ot-Mul on screen.”
The Drac-Vin commander looked positively ecstatic. He was making no attempt to hide his jubilance. “Ah, Captain … I was beginning to wonder if you were going to speak with me again. Perhaps your feelings have been hurt. I mean … look at that ship of yours. It’s ruined. Beyond repair. But that is not why we are now speaking, is it? Our TV show is about to resume … Shall we?”
“One second, Admiral. I have one last command to give my tactical officer first.” Jason turned away from the Craing commander. “Gunny … I need you to do something for me.” In the span of sixty seconds, Jason quietly outlined to Orion exactly what he wanted her and a small team to immediately do. She nodded and quickly left the bridge. Jason turned back to the overhead display.
Ot-Mul’s smug face was no longer there. Instead, Jason was again looking at a live feed—panning over one dark holding cell after another within a Craing heavy cruiser. And the same four soldiers, seemingly, were moving down a catwalk. Jason’s throat felt dry—constricted. His heart pounded in his chest, realizing what he was about to see would be the end of someone’s life … someone he loved.
The same weapon-mounted camera chronicled the visual story, playing up on the display segment above him. The Lilly’s bridge had gone quiet. The Craing soldiers reached the metal door and unlocked it. A weapon’s muzzle, holding the camera, was leveled on Nan. Her face was devoid of all color—white, and moist with perspiration. She looked sick … terrible.
There was something odd, though. Why … how … had Dira managed to get into the same cell? Following was a commotion—pushing and shoving—Nan and Dira were shoved violently against the cell’s bars. Mollie went sprawling in the opposite direction. Jason didn’t understand. What’s Boomer doing there, huddled on the deck? How did that happen? It didn’t matter how … Boomer was about to die. Jason was about to see his little girl shot, from point blank range, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Ot-Mul’s face returned to the screen. He held up his palms. “This! This … is what it’s all come down to, Captain. Before I give the order for t
hat little girl to die, I needed to see your face. I wanted to hear you beg for her life. I also wanted to let you know I’ve already dispatched my battle droid. It will reach your already-decimated ship within minutes. In mere moments, everything, and everyone, important to you, will be … no more. But first, you will witness your daughter’s demise.” The feed switched back to the holding cell.
Chapter 41
Orion and Sergeant Jackson phase-shifted together onto the Mau vessel within minutes of the captain’s directive. No convincing, or haggling, was necessary to bring the Mau officer on board with Jason’s plan. Ti, a Mau admiral, had lost everything to the Craing—to Ot-Mul—and her need for revenge was as strong today as it had been months earlier, when she watched her home planet atomized by the Vanguard fleet of dreadnaughts. Ti made it clear—she alone would confront the Drac-Vin leader … in person … in her own way.
Orion was instructed where on the Mau vessel to phase-shift to and that only two could go. The given phase-shift coordinates put Orion and Jackson into a large holding area. They arrived in a white flash and immediately Orion checked her HUD. Although they weren’t visible to her yet, on her HUD she saw they were surrounded by no less than twenty armed Mau icons.
“I hope you’re right about them being friendly, Gunny,” Jackson remarked over their open comms channel.
“I’m right. And I’ll remind you again … this race of people is highly empathic and telepathic. Watch your thoughts and emotions carefully.”
“Copy that.”
Orion watched as the Mau moved in closer around them. She was well aware of the emotional impact these people were capable of inflicting … something the captain had reminded her of prior to them phase-shifting onto the Mau ship. The second they set foot on the vessel, the Mau’s collective feelings of hopelessness and despair began to infiltrate her mind. She wondered if Captain Ti’s call to The Lilly was only a ruse to get them on board—but then again, what would be the point? Two Allied crewmembers held on board a Mau ship would hardly represent a strategic coup. No, what she was feeling was nothing more than the negative charge these people were projecting. She now understood why no more than two people were allowed to phase-shift here. It was for her and Jackson’s own good, as well as for that of the Mau.
Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle Page 21
