HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship) (2 page)

“Captain, our shields are down to thirty percent,” Orion piped in, now clearly concerned.

Putting his attention back on the display feeds and the assault team, Jason saw they had entered the third floor vestibule and were heading for the congressional prayer room.

Move it, guys, we’re running out of time here
, Jason said to himself.

“Cap, looks like there’s a barricade. It’s some kind of rock or marble. This could take a while,” Billy said apologetically.

“We don’t have a while—”

“Wait a minute, Ricket just sent me the access code—hold on.”

Jason watched as one of the SEALs entered something at the access node off to the right of the entrance. He must have entered the keys incorrectly; he shook his head and started over. Jason caught himself holding his breath. The barricade silently slid open. The assault team rushed in.

Once inside, it took a moment for their helmet cam optics to adjust. Tall, thick candles flickered in the dimly lit room. Here again, the room had been transformed. All furnishings had been removed, with the exception of what appeared to be a marble platform of sorts. The familiar six high priests, in long silk robes and peculiar cone-shaped headdresses, knelt around the platform in prayer. The top of the platform held the remains of their late Emperor Quorp.

Jason wondered how Billy was going to handle the situation. He watched as the SEAL team took up posts around the room while Billy approached the platform. The first to rise was High Priest Overlord Lom.

“How dare you interrupt our sacred solicitation,” Priest Lom said, angry contempt in his voice.

Without any preamble, Billy simply scooped up Emperor Quorp’s remains, threw the lifeless body over his shoulder, and headed back out of the room. Jason held back a chuckle.
Well,
that’s one way to do it
, he thought. Billy quickly moved back into the vestibule and down the stairs. No one left the room empty handed. Each SEAL team member snatched up one of the high priests, who kicked and fought them every step of the way. Within minutes, they were all secured in the shuttle and had shifted back to
The Lilly
’s flight deck. Jason arrived as the shuttle’s rear gangway door lowered to the deck. Standing at the rear of the shuttle were Billy and the other SEALs—each still wrestling with a Craing high priest. Jason took a breath, realizing he needed to play things just right. High Priest Lom was the first to notice him and stopped fighting. The others followed suit.

“How dare you treat us like this? Your death will be slow and painful.”

Jason simply nodded. He was being hailed. “Go for Captain.”

Orion’s voice was strained. “Captain, our shields are down to ten percent. All but one of our fighters have returned. The Pacesetter is back in open space, but her shields are failing as well.”

“Thank you, Gunny. Have Wilson phase-shift out of there.” Jason brought his attention back to High Priest Lom.

“I don’t have a second to waste here. To prove that, I’m going to make my point. One of you will die within the next twenty seconds. It will be up to you to decide who.”

Slowly and deliberately, Jason removed his sidearm. The barrel of his energy pistol moved across the group at head level. Jason looked into each high priest’s eyes. He saw their fear. They believed his threat. “Five seconds, who will it be?” Jason calmly asked.

The priests looked to one another, then back at Jason. “There is no need to kill any one of us, Captain,” Lom said, a slight quiver in his voice. “You are truly barbaric, but we will do as you ask.”

“Fine. You will instruct your people, your fleet commanders—that Emperor Quorp is dead. Everyone is to follow the wishes of Emperor Reechet.” Jason continued to point his weapon directly toward Lom’s head.

“Yes, yes … agreed—we all agree! Put away your weapon,” Lom pleaded, and nodded in the direction of the others to also obey.

Jason moved quickly. First, he grabbed one of the priests by the elbow, separating him from the group.

“Take off your robe and hand it to Emperor Reechet,” Jason commanded. The priest stood immobile, an incredulous expression on his face. “Come on, move it or I’ll strip you down myself.” The priest looked to the others for help, but received only blank stares in return. Reluctantly, he removed his robe and headdress and placed them in Ricket’s outstretched arms, leaving the priest looking most uncomfortable standing solely in what was not significantly different from a woman’s long slip. Jason helped Ricket into the robe and swapped his baseball cap for the new headdress. He then took the lifeless body of Emperor Quorp and placed it unceremoniously on the floor in a seated position. Ricket stood to the side of the emperor’s body.

“Lilly, please record visuals and audio of Ricket standing alongside Emperor Quorp’s body. Ensure this is broadcasted to the bridge of every Craing vessel,” Jason emphasized.

“Recording has begun, sir,” the AI replied.

Ricket, standing in his newly-adorned robe, looked more regal than Jason had thought possible. He started talking immediately. “I am Emperor Reechet. Once again, I am your sole Emperor. Quorp has passed and stands among the other fallen emperors and is now one with our noble ancestry. Now look upon the body of Emperor Quorp and see for yourselves, he is no longer of this world. Look upon the faces of your high priest overlords.” On cue, the high priests filed in around Ricket and stood at the bulkhead. With their heads bowed, each in turn looked up and nodded his head. “You, those of the Craing fleet, I order you to stop this battle. Stop fighting now and prepare your ships to be boarded. And pray you are not the one to be selected for the caldrons—
to be consumed by your conquerors.
”

Jason subsequently received two hails in quick succession. He addressed them one at a time.

“What do you have for me, Gunny?”

“They’ve stopped, Captain,” Orion said, astounded. “The Craing fleet—all of their warships—they’ve all stopped firing!”

“Go ahead, XO”

“Captain, the fleet is surrendering. We’re being hailed by each of the Craing warships. They want to know Emperor Reechet’s wishes.”

“Instruct them all to drop their shields and prepare to be boarded,” Jason replied. He took a long breath and let it out slowly. Although done unconventionally, the battle had been won.

Chapter 2

Three weeks later.

“No, not that one—how many times do I have to tell you? The 9/16
th
. What am I supposed to do with a ½ inch?”

Jason, biting his tongue, fingered through old Gus’ ancient metal toolbox until he found what he was looking for. He handed his father the 9/16
th
socket. His father, Admiral Perry Reynolds, took the socket, snapped it onto the wrench and was back, elbows deep, into the Ford’s flat head V8.

Jason went back up to the porch and sat down. “Dad, I thought you were going to spend some time relaxing. You’d think after fifteen years of fighting the Craing, there’d be something better you could do with your free time—something other than fighting with that clunker.” Upon returning to San Bernardino, Jason watched as his father quickly immersed himself into rebuilding the 1949 F1 pickup truck. Obviously escaping. And why shouldn’t he? A warrior had come home, yet he’d been defeated in battle. He was their leader and so many thousands had died. Would he find the answers he was looking for under the hood of that beat up old truck? Had he given up? Jason didn’t know.

An early autumn breeze made its way into the scrapyard, making San Bernardino’s hot climate almost bearable. Jason, feet up and a six-pack at his side, made a few more additions to his report before closing down his virtual tablet.
The Lilly
had returned a battered mess—barely able to make it back to Earth before shutting down completely. For three weeks Jason, a handful of repair drones, and what remained of the crew worked tirelessly to bring the vessel back to an operational level again. Jason had stayed in touch with the outpost, but being away for such an extended period of time created its own issues. Even though he’d felt comfortable with Admiral Cramer heading up the Earth Outpost for the United Planetary Alliance—the EOUPA—something was up. Communications had become sparse and incomplete. And that was another issue. Jason had been clear, Admiral Cramer would report back to him. But what now? His father, in actuality, was the true Allied Commanding Officer. Would his father even want that responsibility again?

Near the tool shed, more swearing erupted from under the truck’s hood. From Jason’s experience, no one could out-swear a sailor—and that went double for an admiral. He took another long slug of his beer and surveyed the yard. Added to the hundreds of junked automobiles, trucks, vans, and buses, and miscellaneous auto parts, was the newer addition of two stripped-down F-22 fighter jets. After three weeks, they too had begun to blend in—becoming one with the acres and acres of scrap metal.

Jason heard the familiar ping in his ear; his NanoCom had been activated. He was being hailed.

“Go ahead, XO.”

“Captain, we’re receiving FTL markers—a transmission from deep space to your attention.”

“Give me ten minutes. Actually, make that fifteen,” Jason replied, getting to his feet. He grabbed up the empty beer bottles and disappeared into the back of the house.

Ten minutes later, he’d showered, put on his officer’s jumpsuit, and was halfway into the scrapyard. Walking along the concrete pathway, as he had every morning over the past few weeks, were the same, now faint, brown footprints. His own bloody footprints. He had been running barefoot the night everything changed—the night he chased what appeared to be a small man down this very path. Later he discovered it wasn’t a small man, but the mechanical alien called Ricket. The same alien who later mistakenly shot and killed his eight-year-old daughter, Mollie. Inexplicably, Mollie was saved, brought back from the clutches of death. That same strange being, Ricket
,
had rushed them to an advanced alien spacecraft hundreds of feet below the same ground he now trod.

One of the first orders of business once Jason returned home was to modify access to the underground aquifer. The old red Caddy, cramped and just barely accessible to climb in and out of, had been removed. A bright yellow, albeit ancient, school bus now sat in its place.

Pressing a hidden button beneath the front right fender caused the bus door to swing open. Just like the old Caddy, the bus had been gutted and only served as an entryway to the lift system that took Jason down a hidden shaft to the dried-up aquifer hundreds of feet below.

Once below, and turning the last bend, the tunnel opened up into a massive cavern. There sat
The Lill
y, black and curvaceous—her gracefully sweeping aerodynamic lines never ceased to make Jason’s heart skip a beat. He scurried up the gangway and disappeared into the stern of the spaceship.

“Captain on deck,” announced Jason’s arrival to the bridge by
The Lilly
AI. He moved directly to the command chair and sat down.

“What do we have, XO?” Jason asked.

“It’s the Craing, sir. Actually, it’s the Craing representative.”

Jason knew who it was before Perkins replied.

“It’s Brian, your brother. He’s been awaiting your arrival.”

Jason was still grappling with his mixed feelings, and even suspicions, towards his brother. Although claiming to have a wife and small child on a Craing controlled planet, with their safety constantly threatened, something didn’t add up for Jason. He wasn’t sure what Brian’s true motivations were. Who was it he was actually working for within the Craing Empire?

“Go ahead and make the connection, XO,” Jason said.

The forward section of the large wrap-around display came alive, and the face of Jason’s brother filled the screen. “Hello, Jason. Good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too, Brian. I see you’re still doing the Craing’s bidding.”

“As I told you before, everything I do is for Earth as well.”

Not wanting to get into another debate with his older brother, he let that pass and simply nodded his head with a less than sincere smile. “So how can I help you? I take it you received our package?” Jason queried him.

“Oh, you mean the return of a few Craing crewmembers?”

“That and fifty of their warships—more than a few. I thought that was quite generous on our part.”

“Well, they would have preferred to have all five hundred of their ships returned and every last one of their crewmembers. The rest of the Craing crewmembers you’re still holding will need to be returned. But yes, the gesture hasn’t gone unnoticed. But that’s not why I’ve been instructed to contact you.”

“Let me guess. The Craing find themselves suddenly without an emperor—and it just so happens that Emperor Reechet still lives and breathes right here among the Alliance. Something along those lines, huh?” Jason asked with a smile.

“Make light of it all you want, but the Craing take few things as seriously as they do their aristocracy.”

“Why can’t they make someone like High Priest Overlord Lom their next emperor? I bet he’d jump at the chance—”

Brian cut him off mid-sentence. “Go ahead and be smug, but this is quite serious. When you sent the remnants of the Craing fleet back to their home worlds, you inadvertently sparked a Craing uprising. Not only did they receive the mangled body of their late Emperor Quorp, they received news that Emperor Reechet still lives. And there has never been a time when—”

This time it was Jason’s turn to interrupt: “—they have been without a living emperor. Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what upsets the Craing populace. They are a cowardly, murderous people,” Jason replied, feeling his temper rise.

“Just let me finish because this is important, Jason.”

“Well, go on, then—finish what you have to say.”

“What if the Sol system, Earth, could be free from Craing hostilities—forever? All they ask is the return of their emperor.”

“You can’t be serious. Even if I was open to that, which I’m not—we’re supposed to believe them? You do realize these are the same barbarians who make a habit of dining on human flesh. The same people who’ve terrorized hundreds of worlds of the Alliance, not to mention the rest of the universe. We’re supposed to save ourselves while the rest of our allies continue fighting? No,