* * *
The battle within Vanguard’s Breach raged. Those on both the Parcical’s bridge and the bridges of the five Star Watch vessels watched with rapt attention as the Alliance ambush reached what he assumed was a crucial stage of the assault. Although it was still early on, Jason had to admit—the admiral’s plan had not only quelled the enemies’ advancement but had pushed it back. Losses were taking their toll; however, the Alliance forces were nevertheless still winning.
Jason watched as red icons shuffled positions within the relatively narrow corridor of space. “Oh no …” The attached meta-tags made it clear to everyone what had just taken place.
Shit shit shit. It was the Sahhrain’s new and improved Vastma Class warships—they were moving up to the forefront. Not only were they far larger than anything the Allied forces had previously gone up against, it seemed their shields were capable of withstanding an incredible assault.
“Damn things are fricken impregnable!” Boomer said, irritated.
“That and the Sahhrain’s weaponry’s clearly been improved,” Jason added.
Where mere moments before the attrition rate of green icons on the logistical display favored the Allied forces, now Jason was witnessing a total reversal of that.
The wraparound refreshed with four new view perspectives of the battle. On one of the feeds, Jason saw, for the first time up close—one of the new Vastma Class warships.
“That’s a bad ass ship,” one of Mayweather’s men said under his breath.
Jason gave him a quick glance. “Another word from you and I’ll punch you in the face.”
Turning back to the display, Jason watched as six Jordanian Harkin destroyers moved fast into view. They split from a standard attack V formation into three separate sub-groups of two each. “The destroyers are moving to flank the Vastma!” Jason said. The tension built as he watched the well-orchestrated plan come together.
“Annihilate the mother!” Boomer yelled.
The Jordanian Harkin destroyers fired with a synchronized combination of plasma cannons, rail gun munitions, followed by what he assumed were nuclear or fusion-tipped missiles. An assault of monumental proportions. The Vastma Class warship was lost in the flashes of explosive ordnances.
The bridge went quiet with anticipation.
The Vastma Class warship broke free into view—it was firing from multiple canons along both sides of its hull. One by one, in rapid succession, the six Jordanian Harkin destroyers were destroyed.
Jason didn’t have to see the other battle feeds to know what was happening with those.
“I really hate the Sahhrain …” Boomer said.
No one spoke for a full minute.
“We’re losing … aren’t we, Dad?” Jason turned his head. Young Michael, holding on to his great-grandfather’s hand, had asked the question. The little boy looked frightened.
Jason managed a smile. “I don’t know, Michael.” Looking up, he found Ol’ Gus staring intently at the full-scale battle taking place in real time on the wraparound display.
“I guess this was a bad time to come here, Jason. I had a question … but …”
Jason recognized the utter futility of the ongoing raging battle. Momentarily, he would give the order—order the Parcical into battle, with or without the admiral’s blessings. No way would he remain on the sidelines any longer. Undoubtedly, the rest of Star Watch would follow suit. But this horrific battle, he now knew with certainty, could not be won. The enemy’s forces were far too great.
“Go ahead, Gus. What did you come to ask me?”
“Um … I want to go back into Habitat 311. I need to access the habitat control hub.” He looked across at Ricket. “We’ve come up with the basic construct we’ll be using to extend their … environment … their world. As we talked about … give them portal access beyond the boundaries of their habitat; out into what Ricket calls the multiverse.”
Jason shrugged. “They almost killed you the last time you were in there. They’re still a pretty hostile group.” The irony of his warning wasn’t lost on him, in light of what was going on up on the wraparound display.
“I owe them that much,” Gus said. “I want to make myself useful …”
Jason no longer listened to his grandfather’s appeal. His mind was suddenly racing. No … it’s a stupid idea. Impossible! He stood and looked over at Ricket.
“Yes? What is it, Captain?”
Jason pointed to the logistical feed. “Zoom to the opening into the Sol System.”
Ricket did as asked.
“What’s the distance across there?”
Ricket tilted his head, contemplating the question. “At its narrowest section, Captain, Vanguard’s Breach is one thousand miles across.”
Jason stared intently at Ricket. “I want you to think about something. Something I’m pretty sure is impossible.”
“Go ahead, Captain?”
“Is it possible to create another Zoo habitat? Right there? One with a portal that spans that great of a distance?”
Ricket slowly rose to his feet, keeping his eyes locked on Jason’s. “Captain, are you suggesting we build a virtual construct? One similar to what we envision for the habitrons of habitat 311?”
“You mentioned you could provide a portal into an alternative multiverse realm, isn’t that right, Ricket?”
“A portal perhaps two hundred miles in circumference, Captain. Not one a thousand miles across.” Ricket went silent for several moments, deep in thought. “It is an issue of both temporary allocation of vast amounts of memory … that and utilizing Caldurian Zip Farm resources … which is needed to open a gateway into an alternative multiverse realm. Now the Parcical has incredible capabilities. Far superior to what exists on other Star Watch vessels, but …”
Jason cut in: “Then allocate that memory … the Zip Farms; share it with the other Star Watch vessels.”
“Wait … I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Boomer interjected.
Ol’ Gus looked excited. “What I think your father is proposing is ingenious. It’s not so different from how cowboys work a cattle drive. Only difference is we’re going to drive the enemy the rest of the way through Vanguard’s Breach and into a magnificent portal … into another realm … instead of driving cattle into a pen.”
Ricket remained quiet, his mind still probing the feasibility of the plan. Finally, he said, “If we proceed with this … proposition, you must recognize we will be pushing the limits of on board Caldurian technology. Safeguards will need to be removed. There is also the strong possibility that one or more Star Watch vessels may not survive the process. Your proposal is an extremely dangerous option.”
“But it is possible?” Gus asked.
“Maybe, Gus, I am not sure. But we will need to hurry … embark for the opening to Vanguard’s Breach at once.” With that, Ricket hurried toward the exit.
Boomer yelled after him, “Where are you going?”
“The habitat control hub. We must prepare. Gus, come! You can assist me!”
Jason watched Ricket, then Ol’ Gus, hastily exiting the bridge.
“Scoot over, Dad,” Michael said.
Jason complied. Glancing over one shoulder, then the other, he noticed the five Star Watch commanders were still there—was that hope he saw in their eyes?
“Is this going to work, Cap?” Captain Grimes asked.
Chapter 49
Ol’ Gus did his best to keep up with Ricket. Even with their DeckPorts operational again, this was far more running around than he was used to. Entering the Parcical’s Zoo, he was nearly spent. Now would be a bad time to have a heart attack, he thought. Gasping for breath, he was forced to slow to a walk. He saw Ricket up ahead, waiting for him.
“We must hurry, Gus. Please.”
He rallied what remained of his energy and walk-jogged to the open Zoo portal. “Okay! I’m coming … I’m coming.”
Once inside HAB 311, Ricket scurried over to the hidden acc
ess panel to reset the portal window. Back at Gus’s side, he initialized his combat suit. “Hold on to me, Gus … we need to save some time.”
Gus, complying, placed his hands on Ricket’s narrow shoulders. Together, they flashed away.
They phase-shifted into the middle of the street, directly in front of the Habitat Control Hub location. Gus ambled over to the door. “Crap … it’s locked.”
Without any hesitation, Ricket placed a hand on Gus’s arm and the two phase-shifted again, this time to a location ten feet within the Habitat Control Hub confines.
It struck Gus how similar the design of the Habitat Control Hub was to the bridge of a Star Watch vessel. Looking around the space—the high-mounted colorful 3D displays, the consoles with the myriad of different controls—he loved being here. A part of him would truly miss what he had accomplished here. He turned to look out the large frontage windows. He’d miss these people too … they had become his people. Only they didn’t want him, anymore.
“Are you all right, Gus?” Ricket asked.
“Yes. Fine. What is it you want me to do? How do we even get started on such a … monumental project, Ricket? We only have minutes, not hours or days, to accomplish anything.”
Ricket stood at one of the consoles—his fingers a blur of frenzied movement. Gus watched the display above as a wireframe model began to slowly take shape. Then all of a sudden Ricket stopped inputting.
“Why’d you stop, Ricket? Keep going. Maybe I can help … if you want?”
“I have done the calculations, Gus. There simply is not enough time to create a new habitat with a portal of such huge dimensions …”
“Well, do you really have to start from scratch? Why can’t we use what we already started?” He gestured toward the floor-to-ceiling windows—the vista lying beyond.
* * *
The Parcical was the foremost Star Watch vessel to exit the interchange wormhole—quickly followed by the Leo, the Minian, the Pisces, the Aries, and the Libra.
Jason closely positioned their small fleet together, within five hundred miles of the mouth of Vanguard’s Breach. He wasn’t even remotely confident their close proximity would be acceptable. Twice, he tried to NanoCom Ricket, with negative results both times. The third attempt reached him.
“Go for Ricket.”
Jason, two fingers to his ear, said, “We’re now positioned five hundred miles from the mouth of Vanguard’s Breach. Will that do the trick?”
“Yes. That should be acceptable, Captain.”
“How are things going on your end … creating that portal?” In the background, Jason heard Ricket’s fingers tapping away on the control board in front of him.
“We have had several setbacks. At present, I am in the process of transferring Habitat Control Hub functionality to the Parcical’s bridge, specifically to Auxiliary console three. This will allow better integration with the Parcical’s other key systems, as well as manage shared multi-ship resources, as we have previously discussed.”
Jason wasn’t all that sure what Ricket was referring to. “Look, our sensors are picking up the enemy’s combined fleet. They are on the move again. What remains of the Alliance fleet has backed off; they’re now regrouping. Ricket, we only have minutes before the enemy extricates their forces from the mouth of Vanguard’s Breach.”
“I understand, Captain. I will need approximately twenty-seven minutes to complete my task. Much of that work will take place on the Parcical’s bridge.”
“Then we’ll just have to keep them at bay until you’re ready.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Jason stared up at the wraparound display, at the still open feeds of his five Star Watch commanders. “You heard him, officers … we need to hold the line.”
Jason should have expected it. Suddenly, another feed joined the others. Admiral Mayweather’s scowling face leered at him.
“What is the meaning of this? I gave explicit orders for you to be taken into custody. Where are my men?”
Jason glanced to his left. The three guards Mayweather sent, one only recently awake, were passively sitting in seats along the perimeter of the bridge.
“It’s not their fault, Admiral. I’ve given them new orders.”
“You are in no position …”
“Oh yes, I am! I’ve had time to reconsider; evaluate the current situation objectively. Your plan was faulty from the start. By not including me in your initial strategizing, you excluded benefits you would have gained from my first-hand experience as both the previous fleet Omni and the current commander of Star Watch. I would have told you then what I’m going to tell you now. The U.S. Fleet has become bloated and lazy. While our enemies have secretly continued to innovate … build bigger and better warships … we have not. The bulk of our assets are twenty- to thirty-year-old Craing Cruisers. Cruisers constantly plagued with maintenance issues. Our Vastma Class warships are somewhat better, but not much. We fully depend on our ten Caldurian warships, the mighty Star Watch, to fend off any and all enemy attacks. So now, when the new, improved, advanced opposition comes knocking at our door, where did you assign Star Watch, Admiral?”
The admiral, losing some of his bluster, stared back at Jason with quiet contempt.
“I’ll answer that for you. You’ve negotiated some kind of ridiculous concession with our Alliance partners. You agreed to keep our Star Watch assets isolated from one another … in some instances, by hundreds of light-years. Let me remind you of something, Admiral. Star Watch is not a shared resource. Star Watch is strictly a U.S. Fleet asset. Now, we certainly will do what we can to protect our partners within the planetary Alliance, but our number one priority is to ensure both Sol and Earth are safe. Well protected. What you seemed to have missed is that without us—Star Watch—the rest of the Alliance would fold like a deck of cards.” Jason, rising to his feet, stood—his hands on hips. He glanced around the bridge, then brought his attention back to the admiral. “I am reassuming the title of fleet Omni, on an interim basis. Until my father, if he is still alive, can take up the reins again. You, on the other hand, Admiral Mayweather, are relieved of duty. Clean out your fucking desk and don’t ever show up on my wraparound display without being granted permission first.” Scarlet-faced, fumbling for words, Mayweather tried to speak and Jason raised his palms to stop him. “Right now, I need to get back to cleaning up the mess you’ve made.” Jason gestured for Ryan to cut the connection. The feed slid away. Jason, noting smiles on the other commanders’ faces, chose to ignore them.
Like a bat out of hell, Ricket hurried onto the bridge. Making his way toward the open console at the forward, far left console on the bridge, he immediately went to work.
“Captain, the enemy has definitely arrived,” Ryan reported, gesturing toward the wraparound display.
“You’re on tactical, Ryan. Boomer, you … and … Michael are on comms.” Boomer, hauling her brother onto her lap, began speaking in low tones to other comms personnel. Jason smiled at the enthralled six-year-old and gave him a quick wink. It occurred to Jason then that the boy really did have nerves of steel—perhaps would make a fine spaceship captain someday.
“How much more time do you need, Ricket?”
“Nine minutes, Captain.”
Jason focused his attention back on the five Star Watch commanders, studying each briefly before speaking again.
“You know what to do. You’re the best of the best. Hell … I picked most of you for your commands myself. Understand, we’re making a stand here, commanders. We are the last line of defense. At stake is our very existence. Go … protect Sol, protect Earth. Fire at will.” One by one the five feeds slid away.
Jason moved over to the helm console and took a seat. He knew his piloting skills were excellent, handling small Caldurian fighters or shuttlecraft, but piloting a Caldurian warship … he wasn’t so sure about that. But there again, the whole point was for them to hold their position.
The forward section of the display was now w
ide open, providing an uninterrupted view to outer space. What mere seconds before revealed only small pinpricks of light had quickly transitioned into clearly defined enemy spacecraft—a mile wide in width and a multiple of that lengthwise. Hundreds of ships, they were the same Vastma Class warships that turned the tide against the Alliance’s ambush. “Tactical, open all forward doors,” Jason ordered. “Prepare to implement JIT phase-ordnances. Once you have a lock on, start with high-yield, fusion-tipped missiles. Fire at will!”
Jason felt thump thump thump vibrations rise up through the deck plating into the soles of his feet almost immediately. A constant barrage of missiles sped toward their intended targets, many miles away. Within seconds, thousands more were fired from the other Star Watch ships, with similar trajectories locked on.
“Incoming!” Ryan said, not taking his eyes off his board.
“I see them,” Jason said. “Battle stations!”
Chapter 50
Jason mentally pictured their deployed Star Watch missile ordnances passing right by the enemies’ incoming missiles in outer space.
“Divert all auxiliary power to forward shields,” he ordered. Several of the forward feeds showed zoomed-in perspectives of the ominous Vastma Class warships at the front of the fleet. As the first barrage of missiles closed in on their targets one by one, massive explosions bombarded the enemies’ shields. Jason waited and watched, then requested, “Status?”
Excited, Ryan replied, “Heavy damage to four Vastma Class warships, Captain; multiple deck breaches on each ship. They’re out of the fight … well, for now, anyway.”
Boomer said, “That’s only four ships out of hundreds … you’ll need to do a lot better than that.”
Ryan, over his shoulder, gave her an annoyed glance back.
Ricket said, “May I suggest using new dark matter disrupter ordnances, Captain?”
“I wasn’t aware you’d completed your R&D on them yet?” Jason replied, still dispirited by the lackluster performance of their fusion-tipped missiles against the enemies’ obviously enhanced shielding.
Scrapyard LEGACY (Star Watch Book 6) Page 27
