Scrapyard LEGACY (Star Watch Book 6)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Jason stared back at Billy, and thought about it—a dilemma.

  Orion said, “Cap … we can’t let these Adriark assholes make off with a Star Watch warship. We don’t even let the U.S. fleet have full access to Caldurian technology. Giving it over to an enemy …”

  Jason slowly nodded. He missed having Gunny at his side, her wise counsel. “First of all, where is the Stellar now?”

  “Here, in local space,” Billy said.

  “Okay, phase-shift her into the Jumelle’s flight bay. I’m assuming Bristol has restored the Jumelle’s functionality, right? Implemented the Ingress Virus patch?”

  Both Billy and Orion nodded in assent.

  “And the onboard complement of Sharks is ready to go?”

  “Yeah, and chafing at the bit for some payback,” Billy said.

  “Taking possession of the Aquarius is your number one priority. If that cannot be accomplished … find a way to destroy her,” Jason ordered.

  Billy and Orion stared at Jason, neither saying what they were obviously thinking.

  “Oh, come on! Yes, it goes without saying … save Dira. No matter what, get her the hell out of there.”

  Chapter 40

  “Talk to me, Lieutenant. What’s going on now … here in Dacci space, District Seven?”

  Lieutenant Meany, joining Jason’s side, studied the display as it updated with a new logistical feed segment. Both stared at it intently. The planetary system of eight worlds, including the Dacci Common Wealth, Caspian, Sahhrain, and Harpaign—apparently Boomer’s now preferred home site—appeared no different today than the last time Jason visited.

  When Ricket entered the bridge, joining them, both Jason and the lieutenant acknowledged his presence with a nod.

  “Captain …” Ricket paused, then taking several paces forward, he pointed to the logistical feed. He’d remotely zoomed the perspective, apparently, as they found themselves looking at something entirely new. “This is quite unsettling,” he continued. “What you are seeing is a Loop Wormhole construct, Captain.”

  Lieutenant Meany’s expression showed confusion.

  “Before and during the Craing war that was the means the Craing used to move their fleet throughout the galaxy and the universe,” Jason said. “But they were all supposed to be deactivated. Part of the Craing’s surrender decree.”

  “This Loop Wormhole construct, Captain, is still fully functional,” Ricket said.

  “Of course it is! ” Jason exclaimed back, visibly irritated. “We’ve just found out the Craing are rebuilding their forces … so they’ll need a means to move them about. Should I expect that others, like this construct, are up … operational?”

  “Yes, Captain, that would be a good assumption.”

  Jason considered the implications. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Only months earlier, right here in the Dacci system, the Sahhrain were found to be colluding with the Craing, building warships together—amassing fleets. The U.S. fleet, namely Star Watch, put the kibosh on that—but it was far too close a call. More importantly, it demonstrated the planetary Alliance and Earth’s protecting U.S. Fleets’ growing inability to maintain the peaceful status quo—to inhibit further alien aggression. But realistically, how could they? The Alliance now encompassed a staggering amount of space—most of it formerly part of the once-powerful Craing Empire. But the Alliance never utilized any of the Craing Empire’s ruthless methodologies to keep their conquered subjects in line—such as turning local inhabitants against each other, fear of mass incarceration, even the threat of ending up roasted upon open fires within a Grand Sacellum. A Craing shrine, it was the main feeding area where the Craing consumed their prisoners.

  Jason briefly wondered if Lord Digby had any idea who he was crawling into bed with. One thing was certain: over the months, maybe years, Digby had worked behind the scenes, building his own alliance—an alliance consisting of really bad actors, an aggressive coalition of evil. At that moment, Jason didn’t want to consider the total membership of such a coalition force. War was coming, a war the Planetary Alliance couldn’t avoid, but, even more assuredly, couldn’t possibly win either.

  “Detecting any enemy forces here in local space?” Jason asked.

  Meany returned to the tactical station. “No, none that the Parcical’s long-range scans are picking up, sir,” he responded.

  Jason looked down at Ricket. “The other three districts we just came from showed no sign of a coalition enemy build up, or an alien fleet presence, right?”

  “That is correct, Captain.”

  Jason said, “Assigned Star Watch vessels move about their respective districts much like local police patrolling assigned beats back on Earth. It’s fairly predictable. They have an immense amount of space to watch over. Unless there’s a call for assistance, like a distress call, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out how to avoid being detected. How to stay out of Star Watch’s path.”

  Lieutenant Meany asked, “Why wouldn’t the locals in those Alliance planetary systems report anything strange?”

  Jason shrugged. “One thing is for sure … they’ve been smart. Cunning. Cunning and careful.” He turned back to the lieutenant, then Ricket. “You know, I was about to order the destruction of that wormhole station. Unlike our own interchange wormholes, these are limited to fixed locations in space.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Tell me, Ricket, is there a way we can destroy all of them in one swell swoop? Do so without having to physically travel to each endpoint location?”

  “It would take further investigation, Captain. The Craing will have implemented safeguards to protect against such an attack.” Ricket rubbed his oddly shaped head in thought.

  Jason could almost see the wheels turning inside that amazing brain of his. “Okay then, for the time being we’ll just leave it alone.”

  “Captain, is District Seven assigned a Star Watch vessel?” Lieutenant Meany asked.

  “The Libra. That’s Lieutenant Commander Tom Burn’s district.”

  The logistical feed refreshed and zoomed in on two green icons, with Metatags displayed above both. A Metatag proclaimed one ship was the Libra; the second Metatag proclaimed the other was the Aries.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Jason said. “The Aries is assigned to Lieutenant Commander Julie Polly. She’s supposed to be in District Three. What are our long-range sensors picking up, Tactical?”

  Meany studied his board before replying. “Extremely low energy output on both vessels. We’re close, seventy-five million miles distance, but we need to get closer before I can report if there are life signs.”

  Jason studied the surrounding space—first on the logistical feed, then the view to outer space on the wraparound display. “Helm, go ahead and phase-shift us … ten miles off the portside bow of the Aries.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Ryan said.

  In a bright white flash, within the blink of an eye, they phase-shifted to another quadrant of Dacci space. From their new location, the amber glow of the planet Harpaign could be seen in the distance. Jason turned around, glancing toward the entrance to their bridge. It seemed rather strange to him that Boomer wasn’t here on the bridge—when they arrived at her preferred new home of choice. Why should playing with the drog take precedence over the wellbeing of the Dacci star system?

  “Captain … I’m reading massive casualties. Both ships. And another thing … whatever it was happened recently. Within the last four hours.”

  Jason didn’t know Lieutenant Commander Tom Burn all that well, but he did know Lieutenant Commander Julie Polly. She was an amazing pilot and a fine officer. He dreaded the possibility she could be among the dead.

  * * *

  Jason, Ricket, Boomer, and the two recruits—Scott and Lopez—plus, one of the blue painted CBDs, simultaneously arrived within the main corridor, outside the Aries bridge. It was eerily quiet, and the overhead lights arbitrarily strobed on and off.

  Based on the information provided him
earlier by Ricket, Jason mentally prepared himself for what he knew would be a challenging sight. He heard gasps coming over the open channel—the two recruits. There were bodies lying about everywhere. The condition of the corpses—wide-eyed and gaping mouths—was startling; many had their arms outstretched, as though frantically trying to grasp some last vestige of life support.

  Prior to phase-shifting over, Ricket and Lieutenant Meany evaluated the Parcical’s short-range sensor readings and determined the Aries’s crew were victims of multiple internal Ingress Virus attacks. Like on the Pisces, the ship’s environmental conditions had been altered. But here, instead of the heat settings being ratcheted up, the proper ratio of oxygen levels to nitrogen levels had been reversed, resulting in agonizing suffocation. And, similar to what happened on the Minian, the hold where the Caldurian Battle Droids were stored had been activated, dispatching the lot of them.

  According to the life-sign readings, there were twenty-two individuals still alive on board, something Jason could confirm, seeing a series of green life-icons at the bottom of his HUD. Taking several strides to the entrance of the bridge, he peered inside. Devoid of any movement, as he knew it would be, he still had to check it out with his own two eyes. And just like the corridor, bodies were strewn about everywhere. He did a quick pass through the compartment, kneeling down and studying each crewmember’s face, one at a time. She’s not here, he thought. Lieutenant Commander Julie Polly isn’t among the dead … at least not in here. He gave the last crewmember a pat on the shoulder. “This won’t go unanswered. I’m sorry, Seaman … I wish I could do more.” He stood and left the bridge. Joining the others, each looked rattled.

  “According to my readings, Captain, the ones still alive are all far astern … within the flight bay,” Ricket said.

  “They’ll be in one of the shuttles, or some other spacecraft. Undoubtedly, taking advantage of some separation from the Aries environmental support system,” Jason said.

  “So we have eight CBDs wandering around the ship?” Boomer asked. “I still don’t understand why they’re not showing up on my HUD. Not even as fake-friendly green icons.”

  Ricket said, “I have found that the Ingress Virus, to some degree, disseminates differently from one environment to the next. In this case, from one Star Watch ship to another. Not unlike an evolutionary process. It appears as though these CBDs have gone dark.”

  “Well, it’s not like they’re particularly hard to miss. You can hear them coming a mile away,” Boomer said.

  “You do know that they can hover, right?” Jason asked her.

  Boomer shook her head, suddenly much more apprehensive.

  The two recruits remained ominously quiet. Approaching them, Jason stared into their individual helmets. “Think about something else. Stop staring at the bodies and start doing your damn jobs. Understand me, recruits?”

  Both nodded, looking on the verge of hurling inside their helmets.

  “Think about lemons. Biting into a big juicy wedge … that sour citrusy taste,” Boomer said. “That works for me …”

  Jason turned his attention to the CBD. “I want to be alerted the very second you detect movement, whether human or mechanical. Any movement at all. Be prepared to protect our team at all costs.”

  Something clicked within the Battle Droid. Its turret head spun thirty degrees one way then thirty degrees back. The CBD’s acknowledgment.

  Jason, about to head down the corridor, stopped to query Ricket. “Don’t you have work to do? The patch?”

  “Yes, Captain. But I no longer require tactile, or manual, interface with the ship’s console to complete the task. I began interfacing with the ship’s internal network … administering the virus inoculation process as soon as we arrived. It is nearly complete.”

  By the time the team reached the Aries’s flight bay, Jason was able to relax—somewhat. But where were those eight droid killing machines? And why hadn’t they attacked?

  “Life signs are coming from that ship over there,” Boomer said, pointing to a boxy-looking vessel Jason had never seen before. It was an alien craft of some type. Jason turned to Ricket. “Who’s in there?”

  Ricket’s eyes tracked the angular edges of the craft in concentration. “The vessel has unique shielding. There are indeed twenty-two alive individuals within that hull. But no other detail than that is accessible. I cannot confirm with any confidence they are human … or whether male or female.”

  Chapter 41

  Dira stood over the farthest away MediPod unit within the Aquarius’s large Medical department, and caught her own tired reflection staring back in the blue-tinted glass of the closed clamshell. She made several unnecessary setting adjustments on a nearby touchpad interface—busy work—doing her best to keep her thoughts off Bri. She’d replayed the scene, over and over again mentally, watching Bri plead for her newly born child—desperately reaching her arms out to hold him. Then came the two energy bolts that ended her life. Dira had despised Lord Digby even before that, but now there weren’t words to describe what she was feeling. She looked down at the tiny humanoid, enveloped in what seemed to be an immense space within the MediPod. He seemed to be doing fine—on his way to becoming a normal healthy baby.

  Digby, apparently, didn’t know how to properly operate the DeckPort. She hadn’t seen him since she’d reached Deck 23. At least that’s one good thing, she thought.

  For over an hour, Dira stood close by his MediPod—not willing to leave his side. Initially, on entering the Aquarius—cradling the newborn infant in her arms—Digby was close on her heels. She’d run to the nearest DeckPort, never even considering whether it was operational, or that the ship might be infected with the virus. But it did operate correctly, and once in Medical, noting some of the pods were occupied, she ran to the last one in the row. Only now did she venture away from Raleigh’s side to move down the line of MediPods. The two pods nearest Raleigh’s were occupied by crewmembers. She didn’t recognize either one, but that wasn’t unusual since she didn’t recall ever being on this particular Star Watch vessel before.

  Startled, Dira stepped back when a MediPod clamshell two pods further down the line began to rise. Placing a hand over her chest, as though checking whether her heart was still beating, she stepped closer. Granger lay inside, just now coming around. He gasped and inhaled a deep breath in, something patients typically did after their MediPod sessions ended—when they were ready to wake up and open their eyes. Granger looked about his tube-like surroundings.

  “Take a minute. Let yourself become fully conscious,” Dira said, as Granger’s eyes found hers. Blinking away the last vestiges of mental cobwebs, he asked, “What’s happening? Why are you here?” and lifted his body up to a sitting position.

  “You tell me. Is it true? That you sold your soul … your friends … for money? Or whatever else it was Lord Digby promised you?”

  Granger didn’t answer. Instead, glancing first at the closed MediPods around him, he asked, “Have any others awakened yet?”

  “No. Who are they … your accomplices?”

  Granger slowly nodded, his expression hard for her to read. Regret, perhaps? Or perhaps it was resignation?

  “We did it … escaped … got away from them. The plan was good. Nothing wrong with our plan.” Granger continued to stare at the other MediPods as he spoke.

  “What do you mean?” Dira asked.

  “We were in the process of showing the king’s nephews their newly acquired Star Watch vessel—showing them the various compartments; mostly they wanted to see the Caldurian technology. This ship was everything to puppet King Gallderaunt … and even more to his puppet master, Digby. For him, acquiring this ship was the last hurdle to cross before a Sommis of Adriark full-on attack on Sol. I guess … in the end … I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “So what happened? Why aren’t you two hundred light-years away, fleeing with all your bounty?”

  “Don’t be so quick to judge me, Dira. Nothing is as b
lack and white as it seems—”

  The voice came from behind them. “Perhaps it was because he was outsmarted by a team of teenagers. It is difficult to make an escape when the ship’s oxygen levels suddenly drop down to zero.”

  Lord Digby seemed to be walking on air, as he glided happily further into the compartment, wearing a smug expression. Striding past them, he peered into each MediPod as he moved along, stopping beside the one that held his son.

  He smiled down at the sleeping infant, yet when he looked back at Granger, the smile was gone.

  “Granger is correct,” Digby said. “He nearly got away with it. Not only with five thousand pounds of rare and precious Algarian Rupteins, but with the Aquarius itself. His capacity for deceit, apparently, has no bounds. Spare yourself any expectations of loyalty here, Princess. Apparently, Granger’s propensity for deceit, against old friends and new ones … is all that matters to him. I almost admire his ambition. Almost …”

  Dira looked at Granger. His blank expression gave nothing away. She still wanted to trust him, believe in him … but how could she?

  Digby droned on, “No … if it weren’t for my genius synthetics … and my meticulous planning … all my pre-war preparations could have been for naught.”

  “Synthetics?” Dira asked.

  “His army of young hackers,” Granger said.

  “I know who they are. Just didn’t know they were synthetics. But now, thinking about it, that makes sense.” She watched Digby, focusing his attention back on his son, and subtly wrapped her arms about her chest. She could feel the curved form of the metallic weapon beneath her oversized top. Now or never, she thought, and began to inch her fingers between the folds of material. She asked, “So what now?” doing her best to keep her voice calm.

  But before Digby could answer her, Sir Collin Borgne—Digby’s apparent second-in-command, along with his three knights—entered the Medical compartment. Dira nonchalantly removed her hand out from within her top.