Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle (21 page)

One added piece of news Jason got from his brief conversation with Seaman Gordon on
The
Lilly
was that there were approximately forty thousand Drac-Vin warships now engaging the newly-formed Allied fleet. But, Jason expected, it was those three remaining battle droids that were causing most of the Allied forces’ devastating losses.

With the exception of Lieutenant Grimes, sitting at the controls, everyone was on their feet. “Go ahead, Lieutenant … we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

With that, Grimes entered the
Starlight
into the mouth of the interchange wormhole.

Something substantial must have occurred within the last fifteen minutes since Jason spoke to Seaman Gordon. The battle had moved—assets repositioned. Jason barely had time to grab ahold of the back of Grimes’ seat before the
Starlight
was violently struck by some object protruding from a light cruiser’s underbelly. The impact tore open the back quarter of their vessel. In an instant, the
Starlight
depressurized. Although they were now weightless, Grimes managed to maintain sufficient propulsion speed, and she still seemed to have at least partial navigation control. With a quick check of his HUD, Jason saw everyone was still on board.

“Everyone okay?”

“What the hell was that?” Billy yelled back.

“Craing light cruiser … one of theirs, not ours,” Grimes replied. “We’re not so much in the middle of the battle as caught in a thoroughfare of fast-moving Drac-Vin traffic.”

Jason had already figured that out for himself. Massive ships, dwarfing the small
Starlight
, were whizzing by on all sides. “Phase-shift us out of here, Grimes!”

“Phase-shift system is down, sir.” Grimes brought the little ship up to speed and they were pretty much moving in unison with the other ships.

Jason, once oriented, noted that according to the logistical display on the console they were moving along in the right direction. The nearby vessels were probably the last ships to exit the loop wormhole before it closed down. Where the
really
big battle was being waged was approximately one hundred million miles away—about the same distance as Earth from the sun. Not that far—considering the vastness of stellar space.

His NanoCom was out of range, so Jason used his battle suit’s comms to hail
The Lilly
. He again reached Seaman Gordon.

“We need an extraction.”

“All vessels, including the shuttles, are currently in use, Captain.”

Frustrated, Jason barely held back from screaming at the clueless communications officer. “Just connect me to the XO.”

“Captain, the XO is not in command of
The Lilly
… it’s your brother, Brian.”

“I know who my brother is, Seaman … connect me.”

A moment passed before Gordon came back on: “Captain Reynolds, the other Captain Reynolds says he’s too busy to speak to you right now. He says there’s a war going on and you’ll just have to cool your jets for a while. His words, not mine, Captain.”

“We’re losing propulsion, Captain,” Grimes said. “I’m doing my best to get us out of the way … off to the side of the road, so to speak.”

Terrific
, Jason thought. Next, he tried the
Minian
. Seaman Chase answered his hail.

“I need to speak to the admiral.”

Jason expected to be connected with one of the admiral’s sub-commanders. Without a doubt, the admiral was the most important man in the sector. Everything revolved around the decision-making rulings of his father.

“Good, you made it back.”

“Dad?”

“Who else would it be?”

“I don’t know … listen, we’re back but behind enemy lines. The
Starlight
’s been heavily damaged. We need an extraction.”

“There’s only so many vessels with phase-shift technology, Captain.” There was a brief moment of silence. “We’ve got your position coordinates. Hang tight.” The connection terminated.

“Captain!”

Now what?
“Yes … what is it, Lieutenant?”

“There’s a …”

Jason waited for her to finish the sentence but instead saw what she was alluding to on the display in front of her. It was a dreadnaught—scratch that—a meganaught. It was approaching from behind and moving at an incredible speed.

“I take it we’re still not far enough off the road?”

“Um, no … not even close. We’ll be a squashed bug on the front grill of an eighteen-wheeler, Captain.”

“ETA?”

“About a minute and a half.”

Jason resigned himself to the fact they would, once again, have to singly phase-shift into open space. About to turn his attention to the team, he saw a bright white flash, which had emanated off their bow. Jason had never been happier to see an inanimate thing … it was
The Lilly
!

* * *

They phase-shifted as a group directly into the corridor of Deck 4 on board
The Lilly
. Jason wanted them to be as close to the bridge as possible. He hurried into the bridge and heard the familiar announcement from the AI, “Captain Jason Reynolds on deck.”

Brian was seated in the command chair. He watched Jason approach. He didn’t stand or make any movement, other than to look over to McBride. “Put us back in the battle, Helm.”

Maybe it was the course of events over the past twelve hours; maybe, it was nearly getting atomized by an approaching meganaught, but right now, Jason was in no mood for his brother’s bullshit. Jason strode over to Brian and stood peering down at him.

McBride phase-shifted
The Lilly
out of the path of the meganaught.

“You will stand when a superior officer enters the bridge. You will transfer command, in accordance to fleet mandates.” Jason took a step closer to his brother, feeling his anger peak. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

The sound of a familiar, distinctive hiss came from the back of the bridge. It was the hopper—Brian’s seven-foot-tall lizard protector. Its teeth were bared and every muscle of its tense green body was poised, ready for action. Jason had seen in the past what the creature was capable of. It was a killer—could rip the beating heart from its quarry in the fraction of a second.

Brian casually looked back to the hopper and held up his hand. The gesture had little effect on the beast, which continued to stare at Jason. “You can relieve me only when I say you can relieve me. I am the captain of this vessel. More important, we’re in the midst of a battle here, if you haven’t noticed, and the world doesn’t stop turning just because you’ve decided to drop in for a visit.”

Jason couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
What the hell has come over my brother?
But Jason knew full well what had happened: He’d become accustomed to captaining the most powerful warship, with the exception of the
Minian
, in the known universe. Jason knew from firsthand experience how intoxicating wielding such power could be. He also knew Brian was not the man to be positioned anywhere near that kind of controlling power. His actions, right then, demonstrated that Brian hadn’t changed from the two-sided person he’d been back on Halimar, when he played as go-between between the Craing and the Alliance. He was an opportunist, at best, and most likely a traitor.

“Get up and leave the bridge!” Jason’s hands were moving fast—ready to physically extricate Brian from the command chair. The movement of something fast … something green … caught Jason’s attention. The hopper was already in the air, ready to kill—dive on top of Jason and end his life—all in the blink of an eye. That is, if Traveler hadn’t first grabbed the beast around the neck. Now, elevating the hopper eight feet off the deck, Traveler continued to hold it in his viselike grip. Legs flailed, while its arms and razor-sharp claws swiped frantically in the air. Then the hopper was ripping, tearing, at Traveler’s outstretched arm. Blood flowed crimson onto the deck of the bridge. And then came a decisive loud snap. The hopper, limp in Traveler’s grip, was dead. Traveler released his grip, letting the green beast fall in a heap at his feet.

Chapter 31

Brian knelt at the hopper’s side while yelling profanities at Traveler. Traveler ignored him. Incensed, Brian spun and addressed Jason directly. “What right did you have to kill it? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Brian … that lizard, whatever the hell it was, was a ticking time bomb. You saw it … it was on the verge of attacking … me … your own brother. Truth is, it never should have been allowed on the bridge—or on
The Lilly
, either, for that matter.”

“You’ll pay for this, Jason. I promise you that.”

“Well, talk like that isn’t going to help.” Jason made eye contact with Billy, who was standing alongside Orion, watching the show.

“Escort my brother off the bridge. If he gives you any trouble, let him cool off in the brig.”

Perkins, entering the bridge, had his head down—concentrating on his virtual notebook. He glanced up just in time to avoid walking into Traveler, and noticed the rhino-warrior’s arm, covered in blood, and the dead hopper, lying in a heap on the deck. “Good God, what happened?”

“Never mind that now … bring me up to speed, XO. Fast!”

* * *

Ot-Mul had been played. Again, Captain Reynolds had gotten the best of him. Two thirds of his fleet—one hundred and fifty thousand plus warships—were marooned ninety-three thousand light-years back, with no easy access to a loop wormhole. It would be a year before they could travel the distance necessary to reach him.

The truth was, his forces still outnumbered the mismatched Allied fleets by nearly two-to-one. With his three remaining battle droids, and his assault-class destroyer, the
Assailant
, Ot-Mul felt he would easily come away from this battle victorious.

He continued to ponder the strategic aspects of the day ahead. There’d been a few skirmishes so far, but for the most part, vessels both large and small on either side were jockeying for prime positioning—moving assets from one spatial location to another.

“My Lor—Admiral. The small Allied vessel from the Orion system, used to commandeer
Dreathlor
… well, it is indeed here now. At least, what’s left of that ship. She was destroyed by the
Craing-Pri
, one of our newer meganaughts.”

“When was this?” Ot-Mul snapped at his second. “And was Reynolds … was he still on board?”

“No organic material was detected. Apparently, they had abandoned ship. There is something else …”

“Well? Spit it out, Captain.”

“It has been confirmed, although undetected by any of our sensors, that
The Lilly
’s been visually observed nearby. It is assumed Captain Reynolds, and his crew, have reunited with the ship.”

Ot-Mul’s first reaction was a flash of anger—a strong desire to lash out at the fat little captain. Beat him down into his seat cushions. But as the seconds ticked by he calmed himself.
Of course Reynolds is back on
The Lilly
!
The war about to rage in space would be more decisive than any in all known history. It deserved to have qualified combatants. When Ot-Mul achieved victory, defeating a worthy opponent like Reynolds would make his victory that much sweeter.

“Captain Gee, I want to know the relative positions of
The Lilly
and the
Minian
at all times.”

“With their phase-shift capabilities, Admiral … that will be impossible.”

“No, it’s not, you imbecilic turd. We have fifty thousand warships … fifty thousand eyes, visual points of detection, throughout this small sector of space. If visual contact is all we can count on, then have each and every crewmember keep on the lookout. I want constant updates. Is that understood?”

“Yes, understood, Admiral.”

The captain scurried off and left Ot-Mul free to return to his own thoughts. Soon the most important battle of the century would begin in earnest. He continued to stare at the constantly updating spatial representation displayed on one of the monitors. The closest planetary system was Jhardon. Ot-Mul’s expression turned sour. Turning to his third in command, sitting on the raised platform just past Captain Gee’s vacated seat, he said, “Fleet Captain Shine.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“I have an important project for you.”

“Now … while we’re still mobilizing, sir?”

Ot-Mul continued to stare at Shine, expressionless.

“Of course, Admiral. What is your command?”

Ot-Mul stood and approached the bank of monitors integrated into the far bulkhead. “Show me Jhardon.”

The largest of the displays changed to a full-screen, live, visual feed of Jhardon in mid-orbit revolution, and showed her half-scorched, blackened side, inflicted during the attack by his Vanguard ships. As the planet turned, her bright emerald-green side began to come into view. Spectacularly beautiful, he thought, looked at from this perspective. Ot-Mul let a smile intrude on his sour face.

“Captain Shine … bring me the princess. Princess Dira Caparri.”

“Dead or alive, my Lord?”

Ot-Mul contemplated the question for several moments. “You will address me as Admiral. I want her alive. Send a convoy of warships … they are not to return without the princess. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Admiral. She will be brought to you by the end of the day.”

* * *

Dira was encouraged by her father’s recent appearance in front of the emergency-held Allied planets’ assembly of magistrates. Fear of the impending battle, one that sealed the fate of virtually every world in their sector, was running rampant. So the king opted to make a personal appearance, instead of a virtual one … another good sign. She was at his side there, clearly fortifying her current role as princess, and her future one, Queen of Jhardon. They’d made the trip to Wormly together, on board the king’s private schooner. It was a barren and ugly planet, three light-years’ distance from Jhardon. Wormly’s capital was host to close to one thousand planetary leaders. King Caparri was the de facto guest of honor—the elder statesman who, more often than not, swayed general consensus to that of his own disposition.