Glory for Sea and Space (Star Watch Book 4) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Other books by MWM

  Copyright

  Glory

  for

  Sea & Space

  Book Four of the Star Watch series

  Written By

  Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Foreword

  Quick Tip:

  For those using web-enabled e-readers, or have access to the web via a PC,

  you can now refer back to the author’s website for illustrated floor

  plans of The Lilly’s and the Minian’s various decks and compartments,

  as well as those of another vessel called the Parcical.

  More ship diagrams will be added over time. Throughout this book,

  the various little icons (such as the one below) are provided as a quick reminder of this

  option—simply click on the ship icon to jump to the Explore The Ships website diagrams:

  Quick Tip 2:

  After seven Scrapyard Ship books and three Star Watch books, there’s a

  ton of character names, various alien star systems and planet names,

  not to mention all of the series-specific SciFi terms and phrases … well, help

  is here! On the Mark Wayne McGinnis website

  there’s a complete Glossary of Terms for your reference:

  Prologue

  Dacci Star System

  Harpaign Moon, Almand-CM5

  __________________________

  She contemplated her options. Certainly, she could slit their throats—do it slowly— methodically—do it one at a time and give the other two Tahli ministry members enough time to fear for their own unworthy existence—time to anticipate their own inevitable, oh so horrible, fate.

  No. Too messy and that really wasn’t her style.

  Perhaps she could crush their craniums—do them all at once—one wave of her enhancement shield. Unharnessed scarlet distortion waves would end them—end them with little more effort than the swatting away of a fly.

  Almost imperceptibly she shook her head. Boomer brushed several wayward strands of hair out of her eyes and secured them behind an ear. Staring at the Tahli ministry members—watching them as they just sat there in this god-awful hellish weather—they seemed unaffected. Unaffected by the weather and their inevitable fate.

  Boomer didn’t like what had taken hold of her, had wrapped itself around her heart and with each ensuing beat—had become more and more entrenched there. It was hate. Hate for what had brought her to this point in her life—to this terrible place. She pursed her lips and slowly nodded. She’d come to a decision.

  She and the others watched as the Sahhrain Vastma-class warship, one the size of a small city, lifted off in the distant valley. It rose higher and higher into the dark, threatening sky. Then, in a blink, it was gone. They stood there in the wind upon the metallic base of what had once bore the weight of the great winged effigy—a won effigy. Now replaced by a tall archway—there was an ancient Glist tunnel hovering within. Boomer felt it pull—as if she had no other choice but to enter it. Strong gusts of wind began pushing and pulled at their bodies. She glanced over to the Tahli ministry members.

  “We can’t just kill them and we can’t just leave them here,” Boomer said, although the tone of her voice still sounded somewhat unsure.

  “You do realize these are the same bastards who killed Rogna, and tried to kill the rest of us too … right?” Rizzo said, his eyes mirroring her own previous dark thoughts.

  Boomer ignored his question and looked over to Mollie. “What do you think?”

  Mollie shrugged and they both glanced over at the three, still bound, Tahli ministry members. Boomer thought they looked old—even frail—in their long hooded robes, but she was well aware it was only an act which suited them at the present moment. Each one of these masters was highly capable in the ancient Kahill Callan martial arts. And they’d proven how devious they could be. Her mind flashed back to the mass terror and violence within the stadium at Capital City, as Sahhrain warships fired down into the stands. It hadn’t been by accident that the ministry members had evacuated themselves from the area only moments before.

  Why had they brought such misery—such violence—so much death to their own people? They had their own agenda and they would die before exposing what it was to others.

  Jarial, along with Drom, rejoined the group, carrying several large storage cases retrieved from Jarial’s own small vessel, which was now parked below on the valley floor. “Leave them. They made their way here … they can make their way back to wherever their ship is, or get a ride from someone else.”

  Mollie laughed at that. “Yeah … I’m sure another ship will just happen on by any time now.” She gestured toward the dark gray, cloud-filled sky over them. As if to punctuate her words, a flurry of lightning bolts branched across the distant horizon. “Nobody comes here by chance …”

  Their conversation was interrupted—first by a fleeting, passing swath of illumination from the ship’s forward landing lights, then by a low humming sound emanating from the ship’s antimatter drive. The Stellar circled once, then descended quickly toward the widest area of the base where the statue once stood. Less than an hour earlier, it would have been impossible for the ship to land there. The top plateau’s surface had held the great Palwon effigy—a statue hundreds of feet tall, in the form of an ancient Blues woman. Angel-like, with lowered wings on her back, the statue was gazing toward the distant skyline that only now Boomer surmised was in the direction of Harpaign. An equally tall archway, made of glowing blue Glist, had taken the statue’s place. Their quest had ended here, upon successfully finding, and retrieving, the three won effigy statues—miniature versions of the Palwon effigy—that once stood upon this massive metallic base. It had been a race of sorts with Lord Zintar Shakrim. The warrior leader of the Sahhrain people, he too desperately sough
t to retrieve each of the won effigies. Ancient tablets had foretold both of their quests, and their inevitable confrontation on this inhospitable moon of Harpaign. The victor—the one holding all three won effigies—would possess the keys to opening a gateway into another realm, another multiverse reality: a realm where the maleficent, god-like Rom Dasticon ruled. Rom Dasticon needed to be destroyed, if that were even possible, or life in this realm would soon be transformed into a hellish—horrific—place. Even without him physically being here, the process had already begun. Boomer was certain of that. He would never cease his attempts to enter this reality, to bring it under his control. Even Lord Shakrim had known that. He had shared with Boomer his determination to also bring an end to the dark warrior that awaited them.

  Boomer turned toward the archway and peered within, into the mouth of the hovering tunnel. Seemingly constructed of roughly hewn Glist blocks, the glowing blue tunnel looked ancient and endless. A pinprick of light flickered in the far distance that could be many miles away. Impossible to tell.

  She’d battled Lord Shakrim right here on the rock-strewn valley floor, and she had nearly lost her life. Had it not been for Mollie, who delivered the killing plasma bolts that ended the Sahhrain warrior’s reign by taking his life, Boomer would most certainly have died.

  With Lord Shakrim defeated in battle, they’d won the right to continue on—into the tunnel—this gateway before them into another realm. A part of her doubted she would ever return home—felt that this could be a one-way mission, albeit a necessary one. Perhaps even one she had been born to embark upon.

  First Leon, and then Hanna, emerged from the Stellar’s forward hatch and hurried down the extended gangway.

  Boomer figured this was as good a time as any—she needed to get this over with. “Mollie … you can’t come with me. I want you to take Jarial’s ship. He says he can configure it for autopilot … get you into high orbit. You’ll be found there in no time.”

  Mollie didn’t say anything for several moments. Boomer wondered if she hadn’t heard her. She stood almost perfectly still. Her long hair always looked just brushed—even now, perfect and in place. Her skin was unblemished—having none of the battle scars Boomer herself possessed. Then she spoke.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to say that … or something to that effect.”

  “Think what it will do to Mom and Dad with both of us gone, perhaps never coming back. Probably never returning. This has always been my path … my own destiny, Mollie. I know that now.”

  Mollie chewed her lip and gazed ahead into the seemingly endless, awaiting tunnel. She said, “There’s something you don’t know. It’s something I’ve only recently come to terms with.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “As hard as we try to pretend we’re sisters, that we are two separate people, well, that’s just a lie. We’re fooling ourselves, Boomer. We’re not. We’re like nothing that has ever lived before … or will ever live again. We are the same person, living two separate lives. Why do you think we have shared visions? One thing I am one hundred percent sure of … if you go into that tunnel without me, only half of you is going. Going without me, I don’t think you can prevail. I think the ancient writings … those old tablets … revealed as much.”

  “It’s a one-way trip, Mollie. Please don’t make this any more difficult. You can’t come.”

  “You’re not the boss of me, Boomer. I am coming. If it weren’t for me you’d be lying dead down on the valley floor … next to Rogna. So deal with it … I’m coming.”

  “It’s her life, Boomer,” Rizzo said, with a shrug.

  Both Leon and Hanna jogged over to the group. “Stellar’s picked up some pretty strange readings … something is going on … high-energy fluctuations,” Leon said, gesturing toward the archway. “If we’re going to do this … we need to do so now. It may be closing down.”

  “Were you able to contact the fleet … the Parcical?” Rizzo asked.

  “No,” Hanna said. “There’s too much interference from all the Glist … not to mention this crazy atmosphere.”

  “So we’re going to leave without telling anyone? They’ll think we’re dead,” Mollie said.

  “That’s another reason you need to stay behind!” Boomer urged.

  “You two always bicker like this?” Jarial asked, hefting up one of his cargo cases and heading off toward the Stellar.

  Leon said, “We have to go. Everyone who’s coming needs to get on board … like right now!”

  “And the prisoners?” Rizzo asked.

  Boomer said, “We’re bringing them with us. They have a purpose … with all of this … somehow they have a purpose.”

  Rizzo shrugged, looking more than a little annoyed—picked up Jarial’s other case and headed off toward the waiting ship. Hanna and Leon moved over toward the Tahli ministry members. She positioned the muzzle of her multi-gun under the chin of one of them and raised him unsteadily up to his feet. The others followed suit.

  Only Drom, Mollie, and Boomer remained where they were. Drom said, “We came this far together … maybe we do all need to finish this … together.” He didn’t wait for either of them to reply before heading off toward the Stellar.

  Boomer saw a strange expression cross Mollie’s face. “What are you thinking about?”

  “We’re probably not … ever … coming back.”

  Boomer shrugged. “You can stay.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. Anyway … I have an idea. How to let Dad know what we’re about to do … where we’re going. So he doesn’t spend his whole life wondering … what happened to us.”

  Chapter 1

  Dacci Star System

  Open Space

  __________________________

  The most recent attack struck the Parcical without warning. At this point, damage to his ship was significant, but not catastrophic. The latest attack had come from three Vastma-class warships and seven smaller—incredibly fast—gunships. Like the Vastma-class ships, these too were not listed in the U.S. Fleet or Alliance spacecraft database. Klaxon alarms blared throughout the Parcical.

  Both Ricket and Chief Bristol, back in Engineering, were trying to get the anti-matter drives online. For now, they would have to rely on phase-shifting, but only if it became necessary. Currently, that too was on hold until all systems had adequately regenerated.

  Seaman Gordon was standing at his bridge console, hunched over and looking tense, with two fingers up to his ear as he listened. He half-turned around and caught Jason’s eye. “Captain … incoming hail. It’s a Commander Brakken. He says he’s the ranking officer of the Sahhrain interstellar fleets.”

  “What happened to Lord Shakrim?”

  “I asked him that. He said he’s no longer alive but wouldn’t provide me any more detail on the matter.”

  Jason momentarily brought his attention to the above three-hundred-and-sixty-degree wrap-around display. There was a momentary lull in the fight. His Star Watch fleet of Caldurian warships had been hit hard by the attacking Sahhrain.

  Not only did the enemy possess an ungodly number of assets—thousands of warships—he had underestimated the Sahhrain’s capabilities. The Scorpio, the Gemini, and the Taurus had been destroyed. The loss of thousands of men and women continued to weigh heavily on his mind, as did the disposition of their two captured ships—the Minian and the Sagittarius.

  Presently, though, all looked peaceful out there. Blazing multicolored plasma bolts were now replaced by the static blackness of outer space. But Jason had been in enough space battles to recognize the current lapse in fighting was just that: an unspoken pause—a regrouping by both sides. He knew the lull was only temporary.

  “Tell Brakken to hold on for a bit, Seaman.” Jason turned towards Orion, who was busy at Tactical. After years of sitting near his side on the bridge, he knew she was well aware of his stare.

  Without looking up, she said, “They’re gone. I’ve checked and rechecked, Cap. I’m sorry. Even dur
ing the interference, the Parcical’s sensors were picking up their life-forms … but now … nothing.”

  Twice, Jason had attempted to leave the bridge during two earlier lulls in the ongoing action. A shuttle was readied to head over to Almand-CM5. But the last attack nearly destroyed the Parcical and he realized leaving the bridge would be irresponsible—even if it meant losing both Boomer and Mollie. He pushed that ugly thought away.

  “Keep trying.”

  “Aye, Cap.”

  Bristol entered the bridge, his spacer’s jumpsuit looking the worse for wear with several black splotches of something on his knees and elbows. He held up a hand, as if to ward off any questions Jason might direct to him. “We’re close. We need another few minutes before we can attempt to bring propulsion back online. Ricket’s on it.”

  “That sounds promising. Have you been tracking the swarm droids?”

  “You mean in my spare time?” Bristol asked him back, without the least bit of humor in his voice. “I told you, there’s nothing much to monitor with those things. They just keep killing until there’s no one left to kill.”

  Jason looked up at the logistical feed on the display. In the midst of several thousand U.S. and Alliance fleet warships, and many times that number of Sahhrain ships, were ten Vastma-class ships. The latter ships were outlined—a purple tracking square around them. Earlier, the same ships, targeted by the Parcical’s micro-vault projector, had swarms of hundreds of vile, cyborg droids inserted onto them. Ricket and Bristol both assured Jason that they were indeed highly effective weapons. Apparently, they were right. The ten Vastma-class vessels hadn’t moved from their current coordinates and the Parcical’s scans showed dwindling life-forms present, to the point Jason was almost feeling guilty for using such a horrific weapon. But his biggest fear was the inadvertent release of those same droids onto U.S. or Alliance fleet vessels. With the Parcical’s propulsion systems down, so was the power-hungry micro-vault projector. Perhaps that was really a blessing—he didn’t like using it in this manner.