Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle (25 page)

* * *

The admiral entered the bridge, his eyes leveled on the overhead display.

“They really want to bring down the
Minian
, sir. Enough so, they’ve redeployed close to three thousand warships to our current position. Their combined force of drone fighters alone comes to ten thousand. This is a major assault, Admiral,” Porter informed him from tactical.

The admiral appraised his own, significantly smaller, assets on the logistical display: a mix of five hundred cruisers, fifty smaller destroyers, and one dreadnaught. They couldn’t stay in their present location, opposing the enemy, and still deploy MagBots at strategic locations throughout the Allied forces.

“We’re not staying.”

The bridge went quiet—all heads turned toward the admiral. The admiral’s temporary XO Captain Craft looked ready to come unhinged. “Hold on, Admiral. Leave now and you’re putting a death sentence—”

“Spare me the lecture, Captain,” the admiral said. “First things first. Tactical … deploy one hundred thousand MagBots. Direct them evenly into one hundred of the closest-approaching warships. Deploy our own Caldurian fighter drones; they shouldn’t have a problem going up against the Craing fighter drones.” The admiral addressed the comms station. “Seaman Peralta, contact the others … let them know we’re not abandoning them … that we’ll be back … just as soon as we make some deliveries.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Helm, do you have the deployment coordinates from Captain Michaels?”

“Aye, sir. Just in.”

The admiral turned back to Porter at Tactical. “MagBots?”

“Deploying now, sir.”

He turned his attention upward, toward the wraparound display, and watched on a zoomed-in feed as several heavy cruisers came into contact with what looked like a swarm of bees. Thousands of bees. The display segment again zoomed in. The little MagBots were moving in tight unison—swirling—funneling around several of the big Craing warships.

“What the fu—” Seaman Peralta caught himself mid-swear and shut his mouth.

The admiral was equally astonished. The grouped together MagBots traveled at incredible speeds, exerting magnetic pulses and creating powerfully disruptive fields. And then it happened: One of the Drac-Vin heavy cruisers began to waver—then slowly spin lengthwise, stubby wingtip over wingtip. One by one, five other nearby cruisers started to exhibit the same phenomenon.

“The centrifugal force … G-forces … alone will kill everyone on board,” Peralta said.

Now, twenty heavy cruisers were spinning, and the MagBots moved out, exiting the now- disabled vessels—moving toward other Craing ships within the fleet.

“Drac-Vin have their hands full here. Let’s hope our drone fighters fare as well. Helm, phase-shift us to the first of our drop-in coordinates.”

“Aye, sir. Phase-shifting now.”

In a bright white flash, the
Minian
disappeared.

Chapter 37

Bristol didn’t like having his sleep disrupted. He tried covering his head with his pillow, but the persistent
ding ding ding
tones continued. He sat up and glared at the cabin hatch.

“Who the hell is it?”

The AI said, “You have a visitor, Seaman Bristol. Jack is waiting for you.”

“What the hell does he want? Tell him to get lost.”

The persistent dinging tone ceased and the AI became quiet. Bristol fell back and closed his eyes.

“Jack would like me to deliver you a message, Bristol.”

“Uhhg! I … am … trying … to … sleep!”

“He says it has to do with your brother.”

Bristol sat up in bed and looked over to the hatch. “Open it.”

The AI did as asked and the closed hatch disappeared. Jack, the Zoo’s caretaker, dressed in familiar green coveralls, peered inside.

“Come in!” Bristol ordered.

Tentatively, Jack took two steps in and looked about the small, dark crew cabin. As his eyes adjusted in the dimness, he found Bristol lying in bed. “It’s about your brother.”

“Yeah, I heard. AI … secure the hatch.”

The hatch reappeared, again solid, and the cabin lights came on.

“What about my brother?”

“I was doing my rounds this morning. Same rounds I do every morning—”

“Old man … just get to the point. I don’t give a rat’s ass about your rounds.”

“Your brother … Stalls … was standing … looking in from the portal window from HAB 12.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Were you there or not?”

“I can’t hear what’s going on within any of the habitats … you do know they’re not actually here, on
The Lilly
, don’t you? It’s a portal, not a direct window.”

“Of course I know that! Just tell me what he was doing.”

“He was banging on the portal window, trying to get someone’s attention. He was mouthing your name, Bristol, over and over again. That’s why I’m here.”

Bristol nodded and began chewing on the inside of his lip. He wondered what his brother wanted. Probably to get out of there. Well, he couldn’t blame him for that. “Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.”

* * *

Bristol had Ricket’s long string of Caldurian alphanumeric digits on his virtual notepad. Bristol wasn’t stupid. He knew his brother and how conniving he could be. Escape would not be an option. He gestured for him to get back … far back away from the portal window. He waited while Stalls walked twenty paces back. Stalls did as he was told, clearly annoyed. Bristol indicated for him to get even farther back. He moved over to the HAB 12 portal access panel and started entering the code. It irritated him that Ricket could recite the code from memory. He entered in the final ten digits. His brother, still back within the alien environment, looked nervously over his shoulder every so often.

Beep beep beep
. The portal opened.

Bristol walked to the now open portal.

“Hey, little brother, it’s good to see another friendly face,” Stalls yelled.

“I’m surprised you’re still alive … thought you’d be a Serapin’s lunch or dinner by now,” Bristol said, happy to see Stalls still among the living. His brother looked a mess—his jump suit was grimy, spotted with several rust-colored splotches. Bristol surmised the stains were dried blood. He also looked tired … and something else. Happy. “What do you want? You know I can’t let you out of there. The captain would throw me out an airlock, or worse, put me in there with you.”

“No, little brother, I don’t want out of here,” Stalls said, with his typical cocky smile. “I’m finding this place quite interesting. I’ve discovered a few … surprising aspects … things I can work with. But I do need a few things from you.”

“Um … I don’t know. Like I said, the captain—”

“Just a few things. I am your brother, Bristol. Are you going to deny your own flesh and blood a few necessities … things that can keep him alive? Come on … you know what this place is like.”

“What is it you want?”

“I need a way to recharge my weapon power packs, for one. Some kind of recharger unit. I also need one of those larger weapons you have on board … I think you call them multi-guns?”

“Is that it?” Bristol asked.

“More jump suits. I found water, but I need a few changes of clothes, for between washings. And one more thing … I’d like a way to communicate with you. It gets lonely in here.”

Bristol was not used to seeing this more vulnerable side to his brother. He thought about his last request. He knew NanoCom worked within habitats to a certain extent, but Stalls didn’t have any internal nano-devices. Bristol needed to come up with something he could wear—something rugged that wouldn’t need recharging. “Give me a few hours. I’ll see what I can come up with.”

“I knew I could count on you, little brother. I’ll be in your debt.”

“Uh huh … okay, whatever.”

At that moment, the portal window timed out and closed between the two brothers.

“You can’t give him that stuff. You know that, right?”

Bristol turned around to see Jack standing nearby, sweeping the corridor, a broom handle gripped in both hands. Bristol shrugged, as if he didn’t care one way or another. He’d just have to return when the old fart was asleep, or shoveling elephant shit in HAB 4.

Bristol returned to his quarters and sat down at his small desk, which looked like a narrow countertop. Over the last few months, he’d transformed the small desk into a fairly adequate work area. He scanned the row upon row of small, stacked component containers containing a diverse range of technologies: Craing, human, Caldurian and numerous others. He began opening little drawers and pulling out the components he’d need to build suitable communication gear for his brother. He checked the time and saw he had about an hour before his shift started on the bridge. Everyone now did doubles: battle station time. Fine … he could sleep when he was dead.

* * *

Bristol had everything ready to go. He’d run out of time and had to give up the idea of building a communication device from scratch. He checked the time again and saw he had ten minutes before he was expected on the bridge. He had to move fast. He looked at the long duffle bag lying on his bed. He was taking a risk here. Going against the direct orders of the captain. He hadn’t a doubt Captain Reynolds would throw his ass into HAB 12 to join his brother if what he was about to do was discovered. That would only happen if Jack caught him.

Bristol pinched the two recess sensors on the SuitPac to initialize his battle suit. As the helmet enveloped his head and the HUD came alive, Bristol went to work, isolating the coordinates of the Zoo. Jack’s life icon was not there. Now or never … he snatched the duffle off the bed and phase-shifted back to the Zoo.

He stood within the Zoo’s main corridor; to his left was the first habitat, where several bored-looking saber-toothed tigers gazed back at him. Across the way was the aqua-blue marine habitat where the Drapple sometimes made an appearance. Bristol continued toward HAB 12. One more check to see if there were any nearby life icons. All was clear. He saw it was now dusk within HAB 12, and his brother had erected his RCM about one hundred feet from the portal window. A soft amber light emitted through the tent-like fabric.

Bristol brought out his virtual notepad and began entering the code on the access panel. Three quarters of the way through the process he saw movement on his HUD. A new life icon appeared, moving in his direction; Jack entered the Zoo. Shit! Bristol continued entering the last few digits.
Beep beep beep.

“What are you doing there?” came Jack’s craggy voice from the other end of the Zoo corridor.

Bristol ignored him and hastened to the portal window. His brother, barefoot, was standing off in the distance.

“I said stop!”

Bristol turned to face the angered, red-faced caretaker. Jack’s eyes widened when he saw Bristol’s face behind the visor.

“I warned you. There’s no way you’re going to give that pirate any of the things he wanted.”

Bristol pulled the strap of the duffle bag from around his shoulder and hefted the bag onto the ground within HAB 12. Stalls slowly started to walk toward the portal. Bristol held up a hand for his brother to stay back. Stalls stopped, but looked concerned. Bristol indecisively looked at his brother and then Jack. Then, having estimated the portal’s timeout period was about to elapse, Bristol turned, grabbed Jack by the shoulders and physically manhandled him ten steps into HAB 12, throwing the old caretaker to the ground. Bristol ran back into the Zoo, just as Jack got back to his feet. “He’s all yours,” Bristol yelled across to his brother.

Stalls rushed forward, grabbed on to the fabric at the nape of the older man’s coveralls, and held him in place. Bristol deactivated his battle suit and waited for it to withdraw back into the small SuitPac device on the belt of his spacer’s jumpsuit.

Bristol took another look up and down the corridor to ensure no one else was around. He knew the AI was well aware of his actions … he’d have to worry about that later. He unclipped the SuitPac from his belt and tossed the device to his brother. “Between this battle suit and what’s inside that duffle, you’re good to go.”

“Thanks, Bristol … I mean that. What do you want me to do with him?”

Bristol avoided making eye contact with Jack.

“No! You can’t leave me here. Not here … not HAB 12.”

“Feed him to the Serapins.”

Bristol took a step back, turned, and hurried away toward the bridge. Jack’s screams continued to echo within the confines of the Zoo for several more seconds—then suddenly ceased. Bristol surmised the portal window had reinitialized.

Chapter 38

Another dozen or two Craing warships moved into their small corner of space.
The Lilly
’s available plasma and rail cannons were firing non-stop. No sooner were the first eight heavy cruisers destroyed or disabled than another ten or twenty ships arrived on the scene. It became clear—it was all part of the Drac-Vin’s strategy to keep
The Lilly
fully engaged. The very last thing Jason wanted was for his actions to become predictable to the Craing. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the case. By now, the enemy could calculate ahead; know when
The Lilly
needed to recharge its phase-shift systems. It was no accident the Drac-Vin ships were pushing back hard at the present moment, just when
The Lilly
had finalized its last phase-shift of four.

“Shields are down to forty percent, Captain,” Gunny said.

Jason acknowledged Orion with a curt nod, while keeping his attention focused ahead on the wrap-around display. Forty was the shields’ lowest percent level yet—the enemy, most definitely, had smartened up.

“Incoming. Fighter drones … three hundred. Our shields are showing several hot spots, too. If repeated firings continue at us, we’ll start losing our nanites’ protective coating.”

“How long before we can phase-shift out of here, Helm?”

“Regeneration times are getting longer and longer, sir. At least five more minutes,” McBride replied.