Scrapyard LEGACY (Star Watch Book 6) Read online

  “He has a cane?” Jason asked.

  Billy shrugged. “Yeah, so how do you feel now? I think that’s called elder abuse, or something.”

  “Shit,” Jason said, amused.

  Chapter 28

  “Dad?”

  Jason, directing his attention away from Ricket’s latest screen graphic, raised a brow in Boomer’s direction.

  “Mind if I spend some time below with the recruits? They’re pretty much leaderless … thought I might show them some things.”

  “Have at it! Take them under your wing,” Jason said. He watched her leave the bridge before turning his attention back to the display.

  “All right, Ricket, let’s dig further into this.” He took in the feed—a logistical representation of Allied space, showing the position of all Star Watch ships within their respective star system districts. He was conscious of the fact that three Master Class Caldurian vessels, the Scorpio, the Gemini, and the Taurus, were missing from the display. Those three ships, along with their crews, had been destroyed several years past. He counted eight ships presently within Allied space and the Sol System, including the Parcical. The two ships not present were the Aquarius, the ship Granger absconded with, and the Jumelle, still visiting within the Sommis of Adriark space.

  “Ricket, how long will it take to implement the inoculation once we’ve boarded one of these ships?” Jason, turning toward the tactical station, was surprised not to see him there. Instead, Ricket appeared close by his side.

  “I believe we should count on a minimum of one hour each per implementation of the inoculation, Captain, to be safe.”

  “Go ahead and add the name of the Star Watch captain for each ship so we’ll know exactly who we’re dealing with.” The display, once refreshed, now provided the district, plus the multiple star systems within each Star Watch ship location; each captain’s name was also present. Jason quickly noted most captains were doing double-duty, covering multiple star systems.

  Star Watch Assets:

  Captain Jason Reynolds (on loan) — the Parcical — District One — Sol planetary system; Klemmex system

  Captain John Baxtor — the Pisces — District Two —the Jhardonian star system

  Lieutenant Commander Julie Polly — the Aries — District Three — the Carz-Mau system; the Trumach system

  Captain Grimes — the Leo — District Four — the Craing star system; Allaria star system; Orange Corridor, Dramicus 9 system

  Commander McNeil — the Virgo — District Five — the Tarkin star system

  Lieutenant Commander Craig Wilson — the Sagittarius — District Six — Alchieves system; Gracow CD1 system

  Lieutenant Commander Tom Burn — the Libra — District Seven — Arkwane system; Dacci system

  Captain Perkins — the Minian — District Eight — Allurian Prime star system; Mansan Core System

  Jason reassessed the various districts, the Star Watch vessels assigned to them, and the captains associated with each one. For the most part, he was pretty aware who was assigned to each ship, regularly keeping in touch with many of the officers. He had his favorites—Captain McNeil, stationed on the Virgo; Lieutenant Commander Julie Polly, stationed on the Aries; and Captain Grimes, stationed on the Leo.

  “Let’s start with the officers I’m least confident about. Those who tend not to buck the system.” Jason, turning back, said, “Ryan, attempt to open a channel with the Minian … with Captain Perkins.”

  A forward feed section opened on the display but remained black, except for a few brief flashes. Obviously, a connection hadn’t locked in.

  “Sorry, Captain,” Ryan said.

  “According to my investigation, covering the initial progress of the Ingress Virus, the Minian was one of the first ships infected. But like the rest of their Caldurian tech, their comms will be inoperable,” Ricket said.

  “Can’t say I’m surprised, but had to double-check. Ryan, phase-shift us two hundred feet above the surface.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Jason was well aware that this would be the first time the Parcical phase-shifted since Bristol’s fix. Although he had tremendous faith in the young man’s ability it didn’t keep him from sucking in his breath. When the bright white flash came—then went—and he actually viewed the Central Valley Scrapyard sprawled out beneath them, he let out an audible sigh.

  “Twenty years … that’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen the old place.”

  Jason spun around to find Ol’ Gus slowly easing his body into the captain’s chair. Michael was with him—he gingerly climbed up on his great grandfather’s lap. Gus looked to have taken a well-needed shower and even shaved—he looked like a new man. Both had changed into matching crewmember overalls.

  “Hi Daddy … Ol’ Gus says I can play with Alice later. Will you take me?”

  “Sure … I bet she’d love that,” Jason said leaning over and kissing his son on the top of his head. He gave Gus an affectionate squeeze of his shoulder.

  Gus’s gaze pendulumed back and forth, viewing the sprawling landscape below them via the lower three hundred-and-sixty-degree wraparound display.

  “There’s been a few changes,” Jason said.

  “I can see that. Where’s my damn house?”

  “A ginormous bin lift, a certain type of industrial spacecraft, fell smack atop it. That modern-looking house you see instead, Nan had it built. It’s your home, whenever you want to live in it,” Jason said.

  Ol’ Gus, rising, walked a few steps ahead then stood almost on top of the ranch-style structure, lying several hundred feet below him. “It looks like a very nice house. I’m sure it will be fine. What I’m more concerned with is the ’48 pickup down there.”

  Jason didn’t need to look where the old man was pointing. “You’ll have to take that up with your son … when we get him back. He spent a good year working on that old jalopy, knowing it was your favorite. He took a lot of pride getting it restored.”

  “Truth is, Perry never was very mechanically inclined. I’m somewhat surprised he took such an interest,” Gus said.

  “I think it was a way to connect … connect with you again, Gus. He thought … we all thought … you were dead.” Jason nodded toward Ryan: “You have a course set for the Manson Core system?”

  “We’re all set, Captain.”

  “Go ahead, call up an interchange wormhole.”

  * * *

  The Parcical exited the wormhole two thousand miles’ distance from the Minian. “Phase-shift us in close … ten miles. Let’s make sure our presence is visibly obvious before we drop in on our unexpectant hosts.”

  They flashed into position and there she was. A sleek, silhouetted form, crossing in front of one of the system’s two yellow dwarf stars. The mile-long Master Class vessel held a special place in Jason’s heart, since he’d captained the fine ship for several years.

  “Captain, the Parcical’s short-range scans are showing the Minian’s main corridor outside the bridge is clear.”

  “Thank you, Ricket.” Jason hesitated. There was something … something not right. He’d learned a long time ago not to ignore his gut. The uneasiness he was currently feeling was different than the typical pre-mission kick of adrenalin. Doing his best to let it go, he watched as the small Craing initialized his combat suit. Jason initialized his own suit and then hailed Boomer.

  “Go for Boomer.”

  “You ready?” Jason asked, spotting Boomer’s and the Shark recruits’ HUD life icons on a lower deck.

  “We’re ready,” she replied.

  Jason changed his HUD setting to a group phase-shift. Turning to Ryan, sitting at the helm, and then Ol’ Gus, still seated with Michael in the captain’s chair, he said, “If there’s any trouble we’ll return here in a heartbeat. I don’t expect there will be since we’re all friends here.”

  Ryan nodded, though it was clear Jason’s statement was probably more for him than for their benefit. He implemented the group phase-shift.
<
br />   * * *

  In a flash, the six stood within the main corridor just outside the Minian’s bridge entrance. Jason noticed Boomer holding her enhancement shield in a defensive stance and that the Shark recruits carried multi-guns. He and Ricket were unarmed, except for the integrated weaponry provided by their combat suits.

  Without missing a beat, Jason made his way through the entrance first—then took in the oversized bridge compartment. That’s when he saw them. Caldurian battle droids. Oh crap …

  Chapter 29

  There were three things—observations, really—that entered Jason’s consciousness nearly simultaneously. First, as he entered the Minian’s bridge, was Ricket’s alarmed voice within his helmet. Second was an incoming hail from Ryan, and third, he saw the four droids. There actually was another one, a fourth, but that observation ranked considerably lower on the scale than the other three.

  Caldurian battle droids, no taller than the average man, were much wider and possessed four squatty-looking legs, a barrel-like torso, four arms, and a circular turret of a head. Its constantly moving reflective surface was covered in thin, razor-sharp plates. Three small, integrated plasma cannons were positioned on its torso, and that equivalent of a turret-mounted rail gun for its head. These battle droids were completely autonomous, possessing their own highly advanced AIs. From Jason’s own experience with these mechanical exterminators, even one was a force to be reckoned with. Confronting four would be … nearly unimaginable.

  In that split second, his fourth observation was several humans surrounded by the lethal-looking droids. Bridge officers—including Captain Perkins—had their hands raised high in surrender.

  Jason noted Boomer on the move in his peripheral vision, although he was moving too—diving to his left while simultaneously initializing his integrated plasma wrist cannons. Even before hitting the deck, he was firing.

  Boomer, taking a different tack, back-flipped—propelling her body higher via bright red distortion waves—and seemed to hover upside-down for a moment. Bringing the face of her shield forward toward the enemy droids, she fired.

  The droids fired back with controlled, short bursts of plasma fire. It quickly became obvious that they were trying to be extra careful not to destroy any of the technology around them. Jason hoped that would work to their advantage.

  Three direct hits to his torso brought the protective shields on Jason’s suit down to single digits. Loud HUD warnings rang in his ear. Yelling into the open channel, he shouted, “Keep moving … they’ve been pre-programmed not to destroy the bridge!”

  The Shark recruits joined the fight next. Blue plasma fire erupted from the bridge entrance as their powerful multi-guns unloaded into the enemy droids.

  Jason quickly rolled left, as enemy fire blew apart the deck plating before him. Finding temporary cover behind the helm console, he chanced a quick peek around the corner and found, less than a foot from his visor, the ashen, distorted face of a Minian bridge officer. His unfocussed eyes, along with an ugly gaping neck wound, made his fate evident.

  Jason next turned his focus to his HUD life-icons. The first problem he encountered was viewing no color differentiation between friendlies and the Caldurian battle droids. He quickly designated the enemy force with red icons and noted two of the four droids were now firing indiscriminately—no longer preoccupied with saving the bridge.

  Jason saw that three faded-blue friendly icons were also lying on the deck. Either dead, or imminently headed in that direction.

  Having come up against Caldurian battle droids before, Jason wasn’t surprised by their brute force tenacity—ability to take what seemed be an unrelenting barrage of plasma fire and keep on going. The four droids seemed to double their efforts—plasma cross-fire increased on both sides. Jason came around the helm console, both wrist cannons blazing. The droid nearest him, only two yards away, slightly turned before being struck hard by the fiery blasts. Jason continued firing into the same spot, making an ever-expanding hole in the droid’s reflective armored plating. Something clanged inside it, and the battle droid’s capacity to spin around became stymied as it began to teeter first in one direction then another. Boomer delivered a final, killing, red distortion wave, blowing the droid’s turret-gun-head away from its wide shoulders. The mechanical killing machine dropped onto the deck with a resounding clatter. One down, three to go.

  The battle raged on for an hour more. As his combat suit’s power levels drained closer and closer to zero, several times Jason wondered if this was a battle that could be won. He noticed Boomer, her sweat-dampened hair plastered to her forehead behind her visor, was now switching between her suit’s plasma weapons and back to her enhancement shied.

  The recruits, back at the entrance to the bridge, were doing their part too—maintaining a constant level of attack with their big multi-guns.

  Jason was suddenly aware only stark silence filled the space around him. The battle was over. Standing, he looked around the Minian’s ruined bridge that was now nearly unrecognizable. Nothing remained which wasn’t cratered with blackened scorch marks. Although there were bodies lying on the deck, Boomer, thankfully, seemed to have come out of the battle unscathed. Wide-eyed, and taking rapid breaths, Ricket crawled out from beneath the comms console.

  Jason found Captain Perkins leaning over a red-uniformed bridge officer. Behind him, toward the rear of the bridge, was one of their own—a young recruit, lying prone on his stomach. Reaching him in three strides then kneeling down, Jason found the young man’s combat suit cratered from countless plasma blasts. Carefully flipping him over, Jason winced seeing the blackened visor—what lay lifeless behind it.

  “That’s Roger.”

  Jason looked up. Two Shark recruits stood nearby, staring down at their fallen comrade.

  “That’s Roger Lansbury …” the second one said.

  Jason, noting both grief and sadness in their young eyes, felt strongly for them. In the brief period of twenty-four hours, they’d witnessed nine comrades fall. “His actions here today helped defend this ship … helped defend the U.S. Fleet. I’m immensely proud and honored to have fought side by side with Mr. Lansbury, as I am with you, Mr. Scott, and you, Mr. Lopez.”

  Both recruits looked somewhat surprised Jason knew their names. Although they nodded in response, Jason could tell they were having a hard time comprehending the tragic reality of the entire situation. He stood, once again taking in the carnage around him.

  Captain Perkins appeared on the verge of being sick, and Boomer, by his side, helped steady him. “You should sit down.” Looking over to Jason, she asked, “Dad … can we get him out of here?”

  “In a moment. Captain, I need to ask you a few questions. Can you …”

  “I’m fine,” Perkins said. Acknowledging Boomer’s help, he stood up straighter.

  “I’m not reading any other life signs on this vessel,” Jason said, his voice barely loud enough to be audible.

  Ricket moved to Perkins’ other side. Reaching up, he took his forearm. “Let us all move into the captain’s conference room, it’s close by,” he said, peering up at Jason questioningly.

  “Yeah … that’s fine, let’s get out of here.”

  * * *

  They settled Perkins at the head of the table. Boomer brought him a glass of water, which sat untouched on the tabletop. Jason with the others stood around the periphery of the room.

  “Talk to me, Captain. What happened?” Jason asked.

  Jason’s strong voice seemed to bring him out of a trance. Perkins ran his fingers through his sandy-colored hair then took a long sip from the glass before him. “It all started with the daily morning maintenance report. There were three times as many repair requests submitted as usual. It didn’t take us long to narrow the issues down to the Minian’s Caldurian tech. DeckPorts, the ability to phase-shift. Prior to our comms going out, we learned other Star Watch ships were having similar problems. Something about a virus was reported.” Perkins took anoth
er long swig then, setting the glass down, shook his head, looking as if his trance-like state was returning.

  “Let’s talk about the crew. The Parcical’s records show the Minian was fully manned. Between crew, and Sharks, over fourteen hundred—”

  Perkins erupted, “I know how many! I know exactly how many men and women in my crew … were lost. I also know that I am the lone fucking survivor. The captain should never … ever … be the only survivor.” His eyes found Jason’s. “How do I live with that, Jason? How do I …” His words trailed off.

  Jason couldn’t answer him—what could he say?

  “Captain, I believe I can piece together the course of events,” Ricket said. “Perhaps, Captain Perkins, you will simply acknowledge assent if I’m correct in my assumptions.”

  Jason didn’t wait for Perkins to agree. “Go ahead, Ricket.”

  “As the captain just explained, the Ingress Virus was probably delivered to the Minian via communications, maybe through crew NanoCom. From then on, it was only a matter of time before, one-by-one, all their Caldurian technology began to fail. Very similar to what happened on the Parcical.”

  Jason nodded rapidly, already knowing this.

  Ricket continued, “Where the Minian, and the other seven Master Class vessels differ from the significantly smaller Parcical, and Jumelle, is that their holds store Caldurian Battle Droids. I was not aware of their presence and, interestingly enough, Captain, when stored away they get folded down to a significantly smaller size. Difficult to recognize them for what they are.”

  Jason closed his eyes momentarily—pretty sure he knew what was coming next.