Scrapyard Ship (11 page)

“No, we are jamming their radar, infrared, and any of their other signaling capabilities,” Ricket replied, “but they can fire their on-board projectile weapons. Seems right now they are just taking pictures.”

“Gunny, can our comms talk to them?” Jason asked, with the hint of a smile.

“No problem, Captain. Channel’s open.”

Several of the F-18 fighters were clearly visible on the display. On the closest, its external missiles could be seen, including 2000-pound JDAM warheads, Sidewinders, and AMRAAMs. Jason knew from experience the pilots would be following predetermined courses of action. After what had happened in San Bernardino, these boys would be more than a little nervous.

“Attention, deployed F-18 Fighter squadron and centralized command unit of Air Station Meridian, Greetings. We’re a non-hostile, repeat non-hostile craft dropping by to take advantage of some of your famous southern hospitality. We’ll be gone before you know it.”

“Lots of chatter out there, sir—they’re being ordered to engage,” Orion said, looking over to Jason.

“We’re in position, sir,” said McBride, “based on the GPS coordinates provided.” They were now stationary, hovering fifty feet above the eastern-most airbase runway.

“Lilly, initiate a phone call to Billy Hernandez.”

“Dialing now, sir,” Lilly’s somewhat unfriendly voice responded, followed by the sound of a ringing phone line. Jason looked to his right and saw Perkins, as well as several others on the bridge, holding back chuckles.

“Speak to me,” the deep voice answered.

“We’re here, Billy.”

“Hey, Lieutenant Commander—Welcome! Yeah, come on in, we’re ready as we’ll ever be.”

Jason commanded McBride to initiate the phase-shift process. Within the blink of an eye The Lilly shifted again. The wrap-around virtual display instantly changed from a bright sunlit afternoon to a dark interior location—bands of light filtered through small gaps around a large double door at the front of the hangar.

“How long before we’re detected in here, Ricket?” Jason asked, still somewhat amazed they had accomplished their plan so well.

“All signatures are dampened. The only way we’ll be discovered is if we are visually identified.”

“Excellent. XO, you have the con. Lilly, lower the aft gangway.” Jason got up and headed off the bridge. “And Gunny, you’re with me.”

Chapter 7

“Um—Sir, you need to be wearing a side arm, Orion said, as they made their way down the corridor toward the closest DeckPort.

“We’re still on home soil, Gunny. I don’t see—”

“Sir, with all due respect, we don’t know who or what will be waiting for us. Let me do my job—let’s get you outfitted with a weapon. A quick stop at the gunnery?”

Jason held his hands up in resignation, “Lead the way.”

* * *

Checking through his newer memories, those that were post HyperLearning, Jason found knowledge on the operation of the particular hand-held pulse weapon at his side. Now, walking side-by-side along the corridor with Gunny—six foot three at least, and over two hundred pounds of muscle—Jason sensed the raw physical prowess of the woman. Jason, a ten-year navy SEAL veteran, along with his team members—some of them waiting in the hangar below, were battle-hardened, trained warriors. But he had a feeling Orion could hold her own. Once at the lower level airlock hatch, Orion entered the appropriate code and the large hatch began to swing open.

“So external access hatches like this one need to be opened manually?” Jason asked.

“That’s right, sir. Our NanoCom devices only work on opening internal bulkhead hatchways and doors. Not really sure why; a good question for Ricket.”

Once the hatch had swung itself free, Jason moved to walk down the extended gangway, but Orion put her arm out blocking his way.

“Sorry, Sir, but protocol has your security detail, namely me, clearing first.” Orion drew her sidearm and slowly continued down the gangway. Jason followed behind, knowing she was right. The massive navy hangar had been emptied of other crafts, but The Lilly had merely a few feet of fore and aft room to spare. Jason’s eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the near total darkness; crisscrossed stripes of bright yellow sunlight beams made it difficult to see. Dust particles and smoke hung silently in the air. Jason recognized the pungent smell of Billy’s Gurkha-brand cigar.

“How you doing, Billy?” Jason shouted out in a raised voice that echoed around the hangar for several seconds. Orion, now by Jason’s side, slowly turned 360 degrees, weapon outstretched.

“So is this my new replacement?” a deep Latino voice answered back. Then the bright red embers of his cigar illuminated Billy’s smile, ten yards away. Someone flipped a breaker and bright overhead lights filled the room. Billy stood relaxed; forty more SEALs stood equally relaxed behind him.

“You can put your weapon away, Gunny, we’re among friends,” Jason said, before taking several long strides to embrace his friend. At close to six five, Billy Hernandez towered over Jason. The room was eerily quiet and Jason turned to see what was up. The SEALs were looking at The Lilly, all dumbfounded. Orion too had turned around to see what had caught their attention.

Jason stepped over closer to the ship and turned to face the group. “I’d like to introduce you all to The Lilly.”

“Forget the ship, who’s the girl?” Billy blurted out, eyeing Orion’s
curvaceous
backside. The other men laughed briefly, but most kept their eyes on the ship. Orion glanced up at Billy and scowled, then looked over at Jason and scowled at him as well.

Jason continued: “Those of you I spoke with on the phone yesterday already know about our mission. Others of you have been told secondhand. The simple fact that so many of you made it here on such short notice from all over the country speaks volumes.”

“You had us at Hello,” another SEAL barked from the back of the group—followed by a new chorus of chuckles.

Quickly attempting to get through his comments, Jason continued on. “This ship—well, she just might be Earth’s answer to the massacre that took place in San Bernardino several days ago. I’m sorry, but we only have a few minutes before we need to lift off. Believe me when I tell you, Earth is in more danger than any of you realize.” This announcement sobered the group; the men knew about extreme danger—better than most.

“I don’t know when we’ll be back. And if that’s an issue, this is probably not the right cruise ship for you. Those who are coming on board check-in here with Gunnery Officer Orion; she’ll log you in and get you situated.”

Jason was surprised to see that most of his former shipmates, even those who’d participated in the foray against the Somali pirates raiding of the Christina, were all present. After several big bear hugs and extended pats on the back, each of the men joined the line and eventually disappeared up the gangway.

Bringing up the rear, and with the airlock secured, Jason used his NanoCom to order McBride to go ahead and shift out of the hangar to a predetermined, hopefully deserted, location several miles away.

The forty-one new crewmembers were led directly to the Mess Hall on Deck 2 at the forward section of the ship. Orion had assembled a team of five Lilly crewmembers, including Dira, and even Mollie, to help with ship orientation and living quarter assignments. Jason wasn’t quite ready for these SEALs to have full access to the ship. Several things needed to happen first, including a rotation of HyperLearning sessions for everyone in Medical. By the time Jason walked onto the bridge, The Lilly was situated in the middle of the Chihuahuan desert—140,000 square miles of absolutely nothingness. Perkins stood at the forward section of the display, looking out at the vast sandy plains.

The AI announced, “Captain on Deck,” along with the boson’s whistle. The XO turned to the captain.

“Our new guests getting acclimated?” Perkins asked.

“Yeah, I’d forgotten what a rowdy group they can be. I’ve asked Ricket to reconfigure the five MediPods. We’ll start rotating the men into Medical within the next hour—then they can spend tomorrow in their bunks recovering.” Both men smiled, knowing first hand how uncomfortable they would be over the next twenty-four hours.

“What can you tell me about that Craing cruiser up in orbit? Jason asked, changing the subject.

Perkins leaned over a nearby console and tapped a series of keys. The forward section of the display changed to a rotating model of a Craing cruiser. “It’s the largest of their cruisers, actually considered a battle cruiser—nearly twice the size of The Lilly. Craing weaponry is far more advanced than anything the Alliance has been able to produce so far—that’s why they keep getting their asses kicked.

How will The Lilly stack up?” Jason asked

“That’s anyone’s guess—but I’m starting to think she’ll hold up just fine.”

“Size of its crew?”

“Between two and three hundred. They typically have a complement of fifty or so fighters. Captain, even their light cruiser is a formidable opponent. We would typically want to have five or six Alliance cruisers with us before going up against one of them.”

Jason pointed to the Craing vessel. “Can I get a view of the inside of that ship?”

Perkins made a few more keystrokes and they both looked at the display. “This is a best-guess scenario based on our most recent active scans. The Craing ship has relatively few compartments, significantly more open space than Alliance ships. The Craing put little effort in- to creature comforts. Other than for their Overlords, crew personnel are packed together like sardines. That leaves them more room for cargo, and often times the cargo is slaves,” Perkins said, tight-lipped. Jason looked at the display, trying to come to a decision. But his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an incoming hail. McBride, who was now sitting at the coms-console, turned to the Captain.

“We’ve got a priority one hail coming in from the admiral, sir,” the ensign said, excitedly.

“Go ahead and put it on screen, Ensign.”

If possible, the admiral looked even more tired, more defeated, than he had previously. Jason took in the scene; a makeshift bandage had been wrapped around his father’s forehead. His uniform, torn and open at the collar, exposed another gash on his neck. In the background, a haze, probably smoke, added a foreboding look to the already deteriorating scene.

“It’s good to see you’re still alive, sir,” Jason said.

“For now, anyway. As bad as this must appear to you, we’ve actually had a bit of good luck. Where exactly are you?”

Jason sat back and hesitated before answering. Damn, this was the one area he wanted to avoid getting into just yet. “Earth was attacked, as you predicted it would be—apparently they tracked The Lilly to her general location. Several of our fighter squadrons were quickly destroyed, and hundreds of locals were herded onto several Craing cruisers. Unfortunately, Nan was among those taken.”

Jason’s father took in a slow deep breath. “She’ll be held, probably for several weeks, maybe months, interrogated, and with luck sent to a work camp. I’m sorry Jason—this must be very difficult for you. What about Mollie—they don’t have her do they?”

“No, she’s here on The Lilly. She’s handling it as well as can be expected. And she’s pretty much taken over the ship.”

The admiral smiled, and then became serious. “Are you on your way to the Altar System now?”

“No, sir.” We have left the underground base but—” Jason paused, seeing Perkins subtly shaking his head, “….we made a quick detour. Currently we’re in Texas.”

“Texas, what the hell are you doing in Texas? I explicitly—”

Jason interrupted the admiral just as his voice had begun to rise. “Here’s the situation, sir. First, I’ve picked up my SEAL team: 41 battle-tested hard-asses ready to fight for the Alliance. Second, Ricket discovered an on-board manufacturing device that will allow us to make all of the ship’s weapons operational. And third, we’re going to make a visit to a Craing light cruiser sitting in Earth’s high orbit. We’re going to board her, and I’m going to find out where they’ve taken Nan. After that, well, I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.”

Jason stopped talking and watched for his father’s reaction. Angry at first, red faced, his nostrils flaring—but then something in his face changed. Perhaps it was a sudden realization. Or was it resignation? The admiral nodded several times before speaking: “That’s exactly the type of bullshit I hoped you’d bring to the party, son.” Smiling now, the admiral continued with, “I’m not going to second-guess your command decisions, Jason. You tend to land on your feet and you take ballsy risks, something I think I stopped doing a long time ago. If we have any chance of surviving this war, it will be because the right people took bold moves.”

“Thank you, sir. And what was the bit of good news you mentioned?” Jason asked.

“An old adversary has joined the fight. Still not close to what is needed to go up against the Craing, but a neutral planetary system just got in the game. We’ve been downloading this intel and other information across the data link. Let’s talk in a few days. I still need you here at the Altar system, Jason. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Aye, sir.” Jason looked over to Perkins and gestured to cut the transmission.

Chapter 8

Jason wanted to check on the new crewmembers. He’d heard that Mollie was helping out and he wanted to see what she was up to. Over the last few days, he’d become more familiar with the DeckPorts. Before, he would pass by them in the corridors without knowing what they were. Not all of them looked the same, especially if they remained idle too long. Then they would turn solid and look more like a regular hatchway. But DeckPorts had a colored frame around their perimeter—color-coded, though Jason hadn’t completely figured out that part yet. Jason exited the starboard forward Level Two DeckPort and for the first time he felt somewhat at home. He heard familiar noises: talking, arguing, laughing, and even singing. He realized he’d never been to this part of the ship.

The mess hall was one of the larger areas of the ship, spanning the width of The Lilly. What hit Jason first as he entered the hall, was the aroma. It was wonderful—was that pot roast? Most of the crew had already filled their trays and were finishing up. Jason crossed over to the cafeteria-style counter and examined the wide selection. Behind the counter was a familiar-looking crewmember.