Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle (19 page)

“Good. Now I just need to give Ot-Mul a little incentive. Be ready. Everything is hinging on me coaxing Ot-Mul to enter that wormhole earlier rather than later.”

As the admiral’s feed faded away, Jason was formulating exactly what he was going to say to the supreme commander of the Drac-Vin forces. He was as ready as he’d ever be. He was concerned Ot-Mul had yet to send any ship through the loop wormhole.
What the hell is
he
waiting for?
He used his NanoCom to hail Ricket.

“Go for Ricket.”

“I need to establish a visual comms connection to Ot-Mul.”

“I’m on my way.”

Jason saw Ricket emerge from the forward end of the ship and hurry down the aisle. He took Jason’s virtual notebook from him and got to work. As was evident by the two white flashes, the
Starlight
phase-shifted twice within the last few minutes—Grimes doing her best to evade the thirty Craing cruisers and the battle droid. Ricket handed the virtual notebook back to Jason.

“I have directed an incoming hail to the command ship. Ot-Mul will know it’s coming specifically from Captain Jason Reynolds.”

Chapter 27

With the exception of the psychopathic Captain Stalls, Jason could not remember ever having such a strong visceral response to another individual. But now, seeing Ot-Mul’s visual representation hovering in front of him, it was enough to make his clenched knuckles turn white with sudden rage. He did his best to keep his expression passive, even bored-looking.

Jason wanted to be the first one to speak—to set the stage for their ensuing conversation. “Can you feel it?”

Ot-Mul, who had been poised to say something, stopped to consider Jason’s strange question.

“It’s all coming to an end, Ot-Mul. How many defeats have you suffered now? Let’s count them off … The Craing worlds have embraced independence, leaving you basically homeless. You’re now space hobos. Also, those three fleets—Fleet 9, Fleet 173, and Fleet 25, the fleets you sent to secure Earth’s solar system—have willingly joined the Alliance. And now you’re about to lose that big prison barge as well.” Jason chuckled out loud. “It’s no wonder you can’t hold on to your people … are they still deserting at every opportunity?”

Jason’s words were starting to have the intended effect. Ot-Mul, surely not used to this level of verbal disrespect, at least not to his face, turned ice cold. “And you, Captain Reynolds? What of your own world? Has your populace enjoyed the little playthings I’ve introduced into your home world’s environment? Nothing like a few million molt weevils to stir things up, huh? And how many Allied worlds has my Vanguard fleet destroyed at last count? Is it in the hundreds or in the thousands?” A smile washed over the Craing commander’s face as he looked aside, as if relishing the memory of something horribly pleasant. His eyes came back to Jason. “It’s really quite spectacular … invigorating, really … you see, to watch that kind of utter destruction, knowing all stems from my directives. There’s a word for that kind of command … influence … that extinguishes billions of lives, just like that.” Ot-Mul clicked his little fingers—holding his hand up high enough for Jason to see it. “The word is God, Captain. I am a God … and I am your God.”

It was then Jason realized just how delusional the small Craing bastard was … how drunk with his own power he’d become.

Ot-Mul’s brow elevated, as if a new thought was crossing his mind. “Wasn’t one of those planets only partially destroyed? Jhardon? A lovely planet … it will be my first stop, on my way back to Allied space. Within the hour it will be nothing more than space dust. Must finish what I start, eh? Tidy things up.” The smile remained on Ot-Mul’s thin lips as he stared back at Jason.

Jason’s mind’s eye flashed to Dira and he felt his inner rage escalate.

“As for the loss of an old, antiquated prison barge,” Ot-Mul continued, “well, that has little effect on the inevitable, Captain Reynolds. You want it … take it … it’s my gift to you.”

“Thank you. I accept your gift. Unfortunately, its longevity will be short lived.”

Ot-Mul’s smile slightly wavered but quickly returned—looking forced. “And why is that, Captain?”

Jason saw a message waiting for him on his HUD, and Grimes was signaling from the front of the ship.

“Let’s just say that any influence you’ve yielded over Allied space has come to an end. Take a look around, Ot-Mul … because this is where you and your fleet will remain, in this sector of space, for years to come … if not indefinitely.”

Silence followed as realization slowly set in. Ot-Mul was looking away now—most likely at a logistical screen, which showed the progression of
Dreathlor
prison barge toward the loop wormhole. He looked back at Jason. “Foolish. Your fatal mistake was telling me your intentions. That prison barge will be destroyed long before it reaches that wormhole. After that, you will live long enough to watch the destruction, annihilation, of everything you care about. Then I will, mercifully, let you die.” The comms feed evaporated, leaving Jason staring at a bulkhead.

“Captain!”

He was halfway back to the cockpit. “One second.” He slid into the open seat next to Grimes. “What’s happening?”

“That’s happening,” Grimes replied, exasperated.

One look at
Dreathlor
prison barge and Jason knew. It had slowed down to a crawl.

“They’ve been picking off the heavy cruisers affixed to the hull. There’s only two left and they’re both on the starboard side of the barge … it’s completely off kilter.”

Jason nodded, letting it all sink in. He needed Ricket. He turned and found him standing at his side. Of course he was! “Ricket, if we were to set the
Starlight
down on the port side of the prison barge could it compensate enough—”

“Yes … just might, Captain. The Caldurian antimatter drive technology provides for an impressive thrust to weight ratio.”

Suddenly all getting to their feet, the rest of the team picked up on the fact that soon they’d be getting off the ship. Billy, his visor up and soggy stogie protruding from the corner of his mouth, interjected, “So we’ll be target practice for a while?”

“The
Starlight
’s shields are far more robust than those on any of the Craing ships. Is that enough defense against, potentially, thousands of warships? Probably not. But, Captain … there’s a far bigger issue at hand.”

“
Dreathlor
is
going critical,” Jason said.

Ricket didn’t say anything. Like Ricket, Jason knew the odds of survival for any of the
Starlight
’s crew was practically zero. He tried to push the bleakness of the situation out of his mind.

“How close is the prison barge to the wormhole now?”

Grimes glanced at her readings. “Up till now, the remaining affixed heavy cruisers have been propelling the barge to come in from the side … skirting the Drac-Vin forces, for the most part. But as you can see, that’s all changed. I’d say no less than one thousand ships are flocking, poised to surround
Dreathlor
. To answer your question, if the cruisers were unimpeded and had the
Starlight
’s added thrust … I’d say five minutes out from the mouth of the wormhole.”

Jason turned back to Ricket. “Do we have that long before those ion engines go?”

“Maybe … we’d have to move now, Captain. I’ve provided the
Starlight
with the necessary coordinates.”

Jason nodded toward Grimes. “Do it.”

Immediately, there came the familiar white flash. Grimes positioned them several hundred feet above the hull of the
Dreathlor
prison barge. As she brought the little ship down, Jason’s eyes held fast to the logistical display. Ot-Mul’s fleet had slowed. Those that were virtually on top of them had moved away.

“Incoming, Captain. Five, ten, thirty … one hundred thousand fusion-tipped missiles inbound and locked on to us,” Grimes said. She looked back to Jason, immediately confused by his smile. “What? Not even
Dreathlor
will survive that kind of nuclear barrage.”

It was Billy who enlightened her. Pointing to the display, he said, “Looks like the Drac-Vin forces are making a beeline for the wormhole.”

Grimes shook her head; she still wasn’t getting it.

Billy leaned in closer and squinted his eyes. “Look, there … Ot-Mul, and three of his four battle droids, they are getting the hell out of Dodge. Don’t you see … the plan worked … Ot-Mul’s entering the wormhole.”

The
Starlight
rocked as Grimes put her down onto the prison barge. She wasted no time grappling onto the hull surface and bringing the drive up to full throttle. Jason spotted Bristol earlier, seated mid-ship—still on his comms. He’d continued to maintain contact with each of the two remaining heavy cruisers; his work was cut out for him—coordinating the thrust of the mismatched four ships for optimum speed, as well as steering the lumbering prison barge toward the wormhole. All in all, no small feat.

Jason noticed Ricket was getting jittery, moving from foot to foot.

“What is it, Ricket?”

“The prison barge …
Dreathlor
… it’s going to blow up within the next two minutes.”

“How do you know—”

Ricket cut him off, “I don’t know, Captain, how I know … but somehow I do.”

And Jason knew enough not to doubt anything Ricket said. His expression, alone, put a chill down Jason’s back. Ricket was scared. “Close your visor, Billy. Grimes, initialize your SuitPac.” Currently, she was the only one who hadn’t activated her battle suit. Both did as told and Jason used his HUD to phase-shift the team, as a whole unit, into open space.

Chapter 28

He didn’t phase-shift away with the others. Quickly, Jason took over the now-vacated pilot’s seat. First, he ensured each of his team’s life icons were still active and accounted for. Fortunately, he’d phase-shifted them to a section of open space some distance from the prison barge, as well as from any Drac-Vin warships. If Ricket was correct, he now had less than two minutes to do what needed to be done. He took a quick glance at logistics and saw incoming Craing missiles rapidly approaching—like an ominous dense cloud. External temperature readings on the
Starlight
were now spiking … beyond a doubt,
Dreathlor
was going to blow up anytime now. He brought the little Caldurian ship’s drive up to maximum and pushed it past its red line. Jason felt its G-forces increase slightly and heard the drive pitch whirling higher. Warning tones sounded around the cockpit. Earlier, Jason realized after talking to Ricket and Grimes that the moon-sized prison barge wouldn’t make it into the mouth of the wormhole before the missiles hit. His decision to phase-shift everyone off the
Starlight
had been impulsive … but one he was still glad he’d made. What he was now planning was as close to committing suicide as he’d ever come. The approaching missile cloud was still poised to overtake the prison barge but at least he’d prolonged the inevitable.

Jason was being hailed.

“Go for Captain.”

“I would have preferred to stay on board with you, Captain,” Ricket said.

“I appreciate that, Ricket. I didn’t see the need for us all to die. Listen … I need something … anything I can do to increase the propulsion on the
Starlight
… even if it’s only for several seconds.”

There was silence for several agonizingly long moments. Then an abstract thought occurred to Jason. “Ricket, what would happen if I requested an interchange wormhole … while still affixed to the prison barge?”

“I don’t know, Captain … it may be too late—”

Jason cut Ricket off and quickly went about initiating the necessary steps to request and bring about a short-distance interchange wormhole. Ricket’s two-minute window of survival was coming to an end. Jason was resigned to the fact that if the exploding ion engines on
Dreathlor
didn’t kill him, those incoming missiles surely would.

He waited in silence—he wondered which of the three possibilities would come first. While he watched, Jason saw more and more Drac-Vin forces move into the mouth of the wormhole. That was at least something positive. He only wished he’d witnessed Ot-Mul’s expression upon confronting the Allied welcoming party on the wormhole’s other end.

Warning messages were now popping up on multiple console displays in rapid succession. Apparently the temperature on
Dreathlor
’s outer hull was so hot that the
Starlight
’s landing struts were beginning to soften …
soon they’ll melt.
The first of the approaching missiles was nearly upon him. He contemplated targeting them with the
Starlight
’s plasma cannon … but with so many inbound, what was the point? And then it happened—the interchange wormhole request was granted. Space began to distort around him and a new wormhole formed right in front of the prison barge. This was the largest interchange wormhole Jason had ever seen. Everything was happening in the blink of an eye and before he knew it, the two ships were crossing the threshold. There was no time lag—the
Dreathlor
prison barge, with the attached
Starlight
going along for the ride, was catapulted across thousands of miles of open space.

When Jason realized what had just happened, he let out a slow breath and waited for his heart to start beating again. A quick check of the console told him the missiles were no longer an immediate threat. Instead, looming before him through the observation window was the gaping mouth of the loop wormhole. Huge and black, it completely filled his field of view. There were also hundreds of Drac-Vin warships surrounding them—all moving toward the blackness ahead.

A smile crossed Jason’s lips. Willing his hands to move, he triggered the little
Starlight
to disengage its grappling hold on the prison barge’s hull. He brought the ship’s propulsion system back into the black safe range and steered the
Starlight
away from the prison barge and the fast-approaching wormhole. He pinpointed the location of the assault team, then phase-shifted to their position, where they still were—several thousand miles back the way he’d come.