Ricket (Star Watch Book 2) Page 7

  “You might find this particularly interesting, Ricket. These are cloned Zip accelerators. As you can see, we have plenty of them.”

  True to Hobel’s statement, Ricket saw fifty or so of what would normally be huge locomotive-sized devices lined up in matching, large-sized, containers. “You will be assisting Norwell with these … once we have an original accelerator in hand, you will be able to make all necessary alterations to bring these units into operational status.”

  “Are you talking about the Zip accelerators on the Minian again?”

  “I am … and we are close to acquiring her. I assure you, I can’t stress the importance of that ship.”

  “Well, good luck with that, asshole,” Leon sneered. “Don’t forget what that ship’s captain accomplished when bringing down the Craing Empire. He made them his bitch … and he’ll do the same thing to you.”

  Ricket and Hanna looked at Leon, surprised at his outburst. But perhaps more of a surprise to Ricket was Hobel’s look of unease. Apparently Captain Reynolds’ exploits in space were common knowledge among the Caldurians … even those inhabiting the multiverse.

  Hobel stood at a virtual pedestal which, only seconds before, hadn’t been present. He must have accessed it through an internal nanotech, Ricket thought. Hobel tapped at a display and within another few seconds a virtual energy hatchway opened up nearby.

  “Take the prisoners inside and make them comfortable,” Hobel ordered the two guards.

  Now that’s interesting, Ricket thought. He’d no idea the MicroVault could be physically accessible by the crew of the Parcical. He watched as one of the guards stepped into the virtual hatchway, leaving the MicroVault’s access terminal; instantly, he could be seen—now a small figure, standing off to the side, within the MicroVault.

  One by one, they all walked through the hatch, arriving into the glaring white world of the vault.

  Ricket, Hanna, and Leon exchanged glances, spinning on their heels to take in the enormity of what they were seeing. So many different items; Ricket had no idea what purpose they served—organisms in tubes; creatures; weapons; even odd items of clothing … it was almost too much to comprehend.

  Again, Hobel somehow summoned up another virtual pedestal and began to tap at the small screen. Two containers appeared at the end of a nearby row. As he tapped some more, life support and monitoring devices came into view, appearing at the end of both containers.

  “I implore you … please do not do this,” Ricket said to Hobel.

  Hobel briefly looked toward the guards and nodded. The guards raised their weapons and fired. Both Leon and Hanna lost consciousness immediately, but neither fell, nor even slumped, sideways. This is all virtual, Ricket reminded himself. The basic rules of physics were obviously different here. The guards slung their rifles over their shoulders and effortlessly tilted the prisoners’ bodies—from a vertical standing up position to a lying-down, horizontal position. The two weightless bodies were repositioned in respective containers: First, Leon’s body, then Hanna’s, were lain onto padded platforms. They looked to be sleeping, and appeared to be fine, from Ricket’s perspective. The guards next attached a small round device onto the two foreheads, then rejoined Ricket and Hobel. Their work was done.

  “It’s time for us to leave now, Ricket. There’s only a twenty-minute window of safety … for any of us to maintain consciousness within this realm.”

  Ricket joined Hobel and the two guards as they headed toward the energy hatch. He took another look over his shoulder at Hanna and Leon. Part of him wondered if the two would be spending eternity here, within a space probably smaller than the head of a pin.

  Chapter 10

  Open Space, Commerce Corridor Near Arkwane

  Assailant, Bridge

  __________________________

  Jason queried Bristol, again, in regard to the Assailant’s flakey cloaking system and what he was going to do to get it operational.

  The skinny junior science officer had no quick reply. He sat at his station and picked at a blemish above his right eyebrow.

  “One of those vessels has a lock on us, Captain,” Orion said.

  Jason was well aware that the Assailant was no match for one Caldurian warship, let alone four. Hell, a fleet of one hundred … two hundred … Allied warships would find their hands full with that lot.

  “Phase-shift us as far away from here as possible, Helm.”

  “Cap … our cloaking device just initiated … we’re now invisible to them,” Orion said.

  “Shall I still phase-shift us elsewhere, Captain?” McNeil asked.

  Jason watched the forward display. Orion put up a logistical view but the four Caldurian vessels weren’t showing up. Like the Minian and The Lilly before her, Caldurian tech made the ships nearly invisible to scans and sensors.

  “No … ease us out of here, Ensign. Slow and steady; keep our drives cool … and no comms activity either, Seaman Gordon.”

  Jason continued to watch the display. The logistical view, used earlier to see the four ships, was replaced with a magnified feed of open space. Tracking boxes surrounded and moved with the alien ships, doing a commendable job keeping track of them, considering they were as black as space itself.

  “They’ve lost their lock on us, sir,” Orion said.

  Ensign McNeil looked over his shoulder at Jason. “Orders, Captain?”

  Jason wasn’t sure. How would they ever locate the missing trio in such a vast spatial wilderness? Their only lead was that the Caldurian ship, the Parcical, which had abducted Ricket and the other two, was en route to Arkwane; the Eriokian engineer who’d provided that one bit of information had done so under extreme duress. But there was still another opportunity to glean information—and one that was far more accessible.

  “Bristol?”

  Bristol looked up from his panel.

  “Is there a way to cloak our battle suits?”

  He scrunched up his face in an exaggerated expression but then looked as if he’d just thought of something new. “Actually … Ricket’s been trying to do that … it’s been one of his pet workshop projects.”

  “Did he manage to make it work?” Jason asked.

  Bristol shrugged. “I know he was close. I remember … there was a timeout problem. He could cloak a battle suit for a little while, then it would pop back into view.”

  “What’s a little while mean? Like two or five or ten minutes? It makes a difference.”

  Again, he gave a shrug. “I can look at one of the suits on his bench and see what’s happening with it.”

  “Hurry … in fact, you’ve got permission for within-ship phase-shifts. Go!”

  Bristol stood, depressing the two small side tabs on his belt’s SuitPac device. His battle suit initialized and he flashed away.

  Jason brought his attention back to the convoy of four, mammoth-sized, Caldurian vessels. “Follow them … keep a safe distance back, but stay with them, Helm.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  * * *

  Boomer moved between three rows of Sharks. Fifteen men were in the class—all well over twice her weight and far stronger than she would ever be. The gym was hot and humid from sweaty perspiration. The pungent smell of body odor was nearly overpowering; still, there was no place Boomer would rather be. Learning Kahill Callan was the most fun she’d ever had. But teaching its strict discipline to others was an altogether different challenge … she felt a strong sense of responsibility … to the martial art itself as well as to her masters. Not taking it lightly, she did her best to honor both them and her students. Still, one simple fact remained … she was only a kid. At first, she had been embarrassed teaching grownups, until Prince Aahil Aqeel offered her the perfect advice: “Don’t try to be anything you are not. Embrace being an eleven-year-old … revel in it.” And so she did. Soon any trace of embarrassment had fled.

  She observed the stance of every Shark; adjusting, where needed, the position of their training enhancement shields and its
relation to their upper bodies and the mat beneath their bare feet.

  “Billy, why do you keep holding the shield so close to your chest? Hold it more like this,” she said, demonstrating the proper shield position.

  “Yes, Master Tahhrim Dol,” Billy said.

  A short snicker came from the front row and Boomer knew exactly where. Donaldson. He was the youngest one here, other than herself.

  “What’s wrong with you, Donaldson? You have a problem taking directions from a kid?”

  Donaldson, still wearing a smirk on his face, didn’t even try to hide it.

  She let it go. “Okay, at my signal, let’s try the complete Jarta, from the beginning stance.” She moved from the middle of the mat to the side. She clapped once and watched.

  She studied the men as they all moved in unison. In synch, they thrust their shields forward in three abrupt motions, then, swinging their left legs behind them, turned their bodies ninety degrees counter clockwise. Immediately, the Sharks used their shields’ edge in a tilted, swiping motion to propel themselves six feet into the air; up there, they used the opposite edge on their shields to counteract their forward progression. The precise move was an addition she’d made to Master Aqeel’s Jarta—one she’d perfected over the last few weeks. The men, suspended in the air for two full seconds, flipped their feet backwards, over their heads, and landed gently on their feet.

  Seeing all fifteen Sharks complete the fast-moving martial arts routine with relative ease and precision filled Boomer with the impulse to clap her hands and cheer. Instead, she simply said, “Good! Now let’s break into pairs.”

  She watched fourteen Sharks break into pairs—except for Donaldson, who was odd man out.

  “I’ll pair with you, Donaldson,” Boomer said.

  Again the smirk came.

  She waited.

  “Yes, Master Tahhrim Dol,” he said, his tone of voice exaggerating her title.

  Boomer scanned the other pairs, noting that all were properly standing in a beginning combat stance. “Choose who will attack,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. She pointed to Donaldson. He nodded, and she clapped once.

  As much as she wearied of Donaldson’s disrespect, the guy could move. Both he and Billy were the class superstars, although Rizzo, who’d attended a previous class, was equally good. Donaldson charged forward, using a combination similar to the Jarta move they’d each practiced, and, with three quick thrusts of his shield, sent low-powered disruption waves in her direction. She easily blocked them, ducking low to one side. Surprisingly, though, he anticipated her movements and she felt warmth as his shield’s disruption waves hit her left cheek. Instinctively, she used her shield to cartwheel backward, countering with her own blast to Donaldson’s chest.

  He burst out laughing and clutched his chest. “Damn! How is it you always beat me? You beat everybody!”

  Boomer bowed to her opponent and waited for him to return the formality. He did so, and she returned his smile. “Well, that time you got me.” She pointed to her cheek. “If your shield wasn’t a trainer, I’d be standing here with half a face.”

  “And try explaining that one to the captain, Donaldson,” Billy said, two rows over. Boomer heard a familiar sound in her ear—she was being hailed. She saw Billy bring two fingers up to his own ear … he too was being hailed.

  “Dad?” she inquired.

  “Come to the ready room ASAP … little one.”

  * * *

  Boomer arrived in the ready room four minutes later, still wearing her Shadick. Dressed similarly, Billy was right behind her. The conference room was partially filled. Jason sat in his usual seat at the head of the table, closest to the door. Bristol was there and so were Orion and Rizzo.

  “Have a seat,” Jason said, all business. “I have a mission for you.”

  Boomer beamed. “Me too?”

  Jason stared at her for a long moment before answering: “Yes … you too, Boomer.”

  Billy asked, “What do you have in mind?”

  “Something I probably shouldn’t be attempting … especially with my eleven-year-old daughter. This particular mission requires stealth, and will uniquely match a Tahli warrior’s ability.”

  “What is it … what are we doing, Dad?”

  “There are four Caldurian warships close by, similar in size to our own Minian. I want to see their captains sitting in our brig … all four of them!”

  Billy raised his furry brows and smiled. “You … um … think that might be a bit ambitious, Cap?”

  “Uh huh … it’s pretty bold, Billy. But we have a unique situation close at hand. We’re in near proximity to those four ships and we’re cloaked. If we’re going to rescue Ricket, Hanna and Leon, we need intel. Find out where the hell they’ve been taken. We only have one shot at this, so we might as well go big. Between the four captains, I’m hopeful at least one of them holds the information we need. They will also serve as our own hostages … they take our people … we take theirs.”

  “How’s this going to work, Captain?” Orion asked.

  “You will remain on the bridge … but your involvement here will be crucial, because timing will be everything. You’ll be phase-shifting the teams, both in and out. None of us will have time to mess with setting new phase-shift coordinates … or any of that stuff.”

  “I’m still not clear how this will work,” Rizzo said.

  Jason nodded and looked at Boomer. “You’ve played tag before, right?”

  “Oh yeah … I rock at tag.”

  Jason said, “Good, because this far-out venture will be just like that. Two teams … Boomer and I will make one team, and Billy and Rizzo will make the other; each team will infiltrate two ships.”

  The room went dead quiet.

  Jason continued, “Look, Bristol assures me that he can provide us with new prototype battle suits that can stay cloaked up to sixty seconds.”

  “A whole whopping sixty seconds! Wow, Bristol, you’ve really outdone yourself with this one,” Rizzo muttered sarcastically.

  “Hey … it’s Ricket’s design. I don’t understand how it’ll work even that long,” Bristol replied, defensively.

  “We phase-shift in, grab the captain, and phase-shift out. What could be more simple?” Jason asked.

  “Then why do we need two-man teams?” Rizzo asked.

  “One will be the grabber who physically snatches the captain … the second one provides extra protection … in the event something goes wrong.”

  “I’m your protection?” Boomer asked.

  “Yep … I’ve seen you with that shield … you move like greased lightning.”

  “I guess I’ll be the grabber on the second team,” Billy said, with a shrug.

  “Where do you plan to put the captured captains?” Orion asked. “It’ll need to be a fairly large space. Folks phase-shifting in and out all over the place can be a dangerous situation.”

  “What do you think?” Jason asked. “The Assailant’s hold? Or maybe the flight bay?”

  Orion said, “The hold could work. We can have armed Sharks posted around the perimeter.”

  “You know, don’t you, something typically goes wrong with impromptu plans like this, Cap. You sure you want to take on all four captains?” Billy reconfirmed.

  “If we’re going to do this, I want those four ships off kilter … all four of their bridge crews running around like monkeys set loose at a circus.”

  Boomer giggled at that, then became serious when she looked at Billy and Rizzo. “I want two hours of practice in the hold … with real enhancement shields.”

  “This isn’t fair … when do I get trained to be a Tahli warrior?” Orion asked.

  “I promise that you and I will be trained by Master Tahhrim Dol … but not today. Okay, everyone—we all know what we have to do. Three hours till go time.”

  Chapter 11

  Open Space, Commerce Corridor Near Arkwane

  Assailant, Hold 2

  _________________
_________

  Hold 2 on the Assailant was a large, seventy-five by ninety-foot space. The area’s surrounding thick composite-material bulkheads were pretty much indestructible … at least, for their immediate purposes. Orion was all set—stationed on a narrow, cantilevered sub-deck, fifteen feet above the deck of the hold, where she could see everything going on down below, while still being out of the way. Jason, standing below on the hold deck, could see her up there, seated at her makeshift station, double- and triple-checking all her settings.

  “How’s it looking up there, Gunny?”

  “I’ll still need a few minutes, Captain.”

  Billy entered the hold first, leading the way for the ten armed Sharks who followed close on his heels.

  “Form a perimeter around the hold,” Billy told them, gesturing with his finger in an overhead circling motion.

  Jason exited Hold 2 and entered Hold 1, on the other side of the corridor. In there, in an area exactly the same size as Hold 2, were four people: Sergeant Jackson, Chief Horris, Dira, and Lieutenant Commander Perkins.

  Jason, earlier, used masking tape strips on the decking to section the hold into four equal-sized areas. At present, the four crewmembers were grouped together in the middle of the hold, talking.

  “Okay … team captains … go ahead and assume your respective bridge area positions.”

  The four separated to stand in the middle of their sections. Jason smiled. “Remember, you’re surprised when things start to happen. Feel free to fight back … do the unexpected. That’s why we’re here, doing mock simulations, right? We need to be prepared for anything.”

  Jason looked at each one, getting nods back; Chief Horris smiled broadly, obviously having more fun than the other three.

  “When is this happening, Jason? I have a patient in Medical,” Dira asked.

  “It could be one minute from now, or ten.” With that, he left Hold 1 and returned to Hold 2. He glanced up at Orion and was rewarded with a thumbs-up signal. Bristol was seated next to her, looking bored as usual.