HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  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

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright

  HAB 12

  A SCRAPYARD SHIP NOVEL

  Written By

  Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Chapter 1

  There were too many of them, and they were winning. At stake was not only the lives of the crew of The Lilly, but two others on board. The most important people in his life: Mollie, his eight-year-old daughter, and his ex-wife Nan.

  He’d decided he’d rather destroy the ship than let the Craing take her. Now, perhaps, there was a glimmer of hope. In mere seconds, Jason went from reviewing The Lilly’s tediously slow self-destruct procedure to realizing he might yet find a way out of this mess. The Lilly’s systems had started to come back online. Slowly—not a second too soon.

  Exhausted, Jason closed his eyes and massaged his eyelids. He blinked the ship’s bridge back into focus. Crewmembers scurried from one station to another—necessary, given that they were undermanned and responsible for two or even three jobs. They were not out of the woods yet, but they had accomplished much. What was left of the Craing fleet, somewhere around two hundred and fifty warships, was now adrift in space. Even though their propulsion systems had been targeted, many of those vessels still had fully-functional weapons. Weapons that now bore down on The Lilly.

  “Charging rail guns,” Orion reported from tactical. “Both guns charged. AIs targeting and … firing.”

  Jason felt the deck plates beneath his shoes begin to vibrate. The Lilly’s JIT rail munitions were being phase-shifted directly to each of the internal gun-ports. In a frenzied blur, both forward and aft gimbal-mounted guns acquired firing solutions. The meter-long projectiles—projectiles configured with unique anti-matter characteristics—flared into space and devastated their targets with swift efficiency.

  Craing warships had long dominated space—not because of their tactical or particularly advanced weaponry; their advantage lay in their shields. Typically the Craing decimated their adversaries—simply outlasted them. But even Craing warships were no match for the advanced weaponry of The Lilly. Jason and his bridge crew watched the display.

  “Captain, Craing shields are failing,” Orion, the ship’s gunny, reported. “A Destroyer off our bow, and the two battle cruisers aft … all three have hull breeches.” The display went white with three consecutive flashes. Nothing remained of the enemy ships.

  One by one, the Craing fleet was being ripped apart. But the question remained: was it happening fast enough?

  “Multiple contacts, Captain!”

  Jason spied smaller icons now filling the empty spaces between the Craing warships.

  “Craing fighters, hundreds of them!” the gunny announced.

  The XO, rushing back and forth between several stations, looked up and said, “They’re all drones, sir. No live pilots.”

  “Gunny, deploy plasma cannons,” Jason commanded.

  The Lilly’s AI spoke up for herself. “Captain, our four plasma cannons deployed as soon as that system came back online, and they are now targeting the enemy fighters.”

  Again, all eyes went to the display where vectors of crisscrossing yellow and blue firing solutions were constantly updating.

  “Captain, The Trickster and The Last Chance have been engaged—both warships and fighters are concentrating their weapons, sir.”

  “Move to intercept—”

  Only moments ago the four Craing battle cruisers had joined the fight. Days before, Jason and his assault teams had boarded these same ships in Earth’s higher orbit. Now, The Trickster, The Last Chance, The Surprise and The Gordita were the bulk of the newly formed Earth Outpost Allied fleet. Manned by inexperienced outpost personnel, the skeleton crews could barely maneuver these massive warships—let alone go into battle.

  “The Last Chance’s shields are down to twenty … now ten percent … Their shields just went down, sir,” Perkins said.

  “Put us right in front of her—move!” Jason barked.

  “Hull breech on The Last Chance … casualties reported,” Perkins yelled from comms.

  “Tell them to get out of there—head back to Earth.”

  “They’re trying, sir, but their drives are being targeted,” Perkins replied.

  The forward display segment zoomed in on The Last Chance. Multiple Craing warships, as well as numerous fighters, had concentrated their combined energy weapons on her. Within seconds, white flashes appeared and The Last Chance blew apart—first breaking into several large sections, then into smaller ones. The Craing fighters continued their onslaught. Anything larger than a few meters in diameter was targeted and destroyed. The Craing quickly shifted their combined arsenal onto The Trickster. Maybe it was because so many crewmembers had lost their lives, including those who’d fought to rescue these two ships away from the Craing in the first place, or maybe because Mollie had named them, but the flood of emotion Jason was experiencing was unexpected and debilitating. Forcefully clearing his mind, Jason brought his attention back to the present.

  “Lilly, target the closest Craing vessels to The Trickster,” Jason ordered.

  The Trickster moved to escape, but the Craing fighters stayed in close pursuit. Jason watched the display. She was already in trouble.

  “Her shields just went down, sir.”

  As with The Last Chance, the display flashed white as The Trickster blew apart. The Craing fighters relentlessly targeted the remaining remnants of the ship.

  “Status, XO?” Jason asked.

  “Both The Last Chance and The Trickster have been destroyed, no survivors. The Lilly has destroyed one hundred fifty enemy drone fighters, along with seventy-six Craing warships. Our own shields are down to sixty-eight percent and falling fast, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Perkins reported. “Both The Surprise and The Gordita are now coming under attack,” he continued.

  “XO, get our own fighters out there,” Jason commanded. He figured it was just a matter of time before both The Surprise and The Gordita would be lost as well, but he had to do something. “Helm, do we have phase-shift capability back online yet?”

  Ensign McBride checked his console. “Just now. Yes, sir. All systems are operational—though shields are down to fifty percent.”

  Jason had come to rely on the phase-shift capability of The Lilly. A capability that allowed the ship to instantly move anywhere, even through solid matter, but it had its limitations as well—chiefly, a phase-shift radius of less than three miles.

  Jason activated his NanoCom to his SEAL buddy, Billy Hernandez.

  “Go for Billy, Cap.”

  “You and your team suited up?”

  “Just need to put our helmets on. What’s up?”

  Jason was watching the di
splay as he spoke. An odd-shaped cube, the Dreadnaught was measured in miles. A devastatingly powerful warship, but more importantly, the fleet’s command ship. Taking that ship had been costly. Eventually, their emperor found his demise at the business end of a rhino warrior’s hammer. Jason chastised himself; still on board were the Craing high priests—including High Priest Lom. Ruthless and powerful, Jason realized it had been a monumental mistake to leave any of them alive. No doubt, Lom had taken charge. Hell, he may have wielded more power than the emperor himself.

  “Billy, get down to the flight deck—I want you and your men back on that Dreadnaught. Bring back Lom and the rest of the priests.”

  “Seems like a Hail Mary, Cap.”

  “Right now, it’s all we got.”

  “Captain, our fighters are directly engaging the Craing fighters. We’re outnumbered fifty to one, sir,” the XO reported.

  “Tell our pilots to either phase-shift back to The Lilly or into Craing holds as necessary.”

  “Shuttle #2 is on the Dreadnaught,” both Orion and Perkins reported simultaneously. That was Billy’s team — they had phase-shifted into the Dreadnaught, just as planned.

  Jason answered an incoming hail. “Go for Cap—what’s your status, Billy?”

  “We’re at the drop zone. Looks like the Craing have already taken back control of the Dreadnaught,” Billy replied from the shuttle.

  “Damn!” Jason shouted, losing his cool. What he needed was real-time visuals. He looked up to see Ricket staring back at him. It was uncanny how he tended to show up like that—always at just the right moment. He was originally Craing. Three and a half feet tall, and a strange amalgamation of mechanical and biotic alien body, The Lilly’s Science Officer patiently stood there. Jason pointed to the display. “Can you display Billy’s and his team’s helmet-cam feeds?”

  Ricket simply nodded.

  Within seconds, the wrap-around display segmented into six new helmet-cam views. Billy and his team were on board the huge Craing Dreadnaught, and each one was staring in the same direction. Jason recognized the familiar surroundings; a smoky haze hung stagnant in the air. The shuttle had set down on the concourse in front of the Grand Sacellum—the Craing’s religious center and home to their high priests. Jason sat forward and frowned.

  “Billy, what’s that approaching in the distance?” he asked.

  Even before Billy replied, Jason knew.

  “Security hover drones, Cap,” Billy replied. “Hundreds of them headed our way from both directions. Craing bridge must have reactivated them.”

  Jason had come up against these drones before. They were white, cylindrical in shape and about three feet in length. Not only could they hover and spin in any direction, they could target and fire from their two separate mini-pulse cannons simultaneously, making it nearly impossible to get a clear shot.

  “Captain, there’s no way—”

  “Hold on, Billy; I have an idea.” Jason hailed the Pacesetter fighter pilot.

  “Go for Wilson.”

  “Need you to phase-shift your Pacesetter to the main inside corridor of that Dreadnaught.”

  “I’m on it, sir.” An instant later, the Pacesetter’s icon disappeared from the overall battle logistics feed. A new segment displayed the Pacesetter’s POV within the Dreadnaught’s massive main corridor. Over one hundred security hover drones were approaching ahead. The screen blurred as the Pacesetter rapidly accelerated to intersect. Jason felt a momentary pang of envy, wishing he were at the stick himself. Energy pulses erupted from the oncoming security drones. A moment later the Pacesetter’s forward plasma cannon deployed, with a significantly more powerful barrage of plasma fire of its own. The security hover drones had little in the way of shielding and, one by one, were quickly turned to smoldering slag—falling to the Dreadnaught’s deck plating below. The Pacesetter did a quick end-over maneuver to intersect with the secondary group of drones coming from the other end of the corridor. It seemed Wilson had the security drones well in hand, so Jason brought his attention back to Billy and his men. With the arrival of the Pacesetter, Billy and his team of SEALs were free to complete their own mission.

  “Ricket, best you head on down to the flight deck to be ready. You know what to do?” Jason asked.

  “Yes, I believe so, Captain,” Ricket replied, hesitating a few seconds before he left the bridge.

  Billy’s team was now inside the main room of the Grand Sacellum. Just hours before, the room had been in a disarrayed mess: tables, chairs, and grilling caldrons strewn about the floor. Now everything was back in place, as if nothing had happened. Fires blazed again in vessels at the center of each table. Billy and his SEAL team quickly made their way from the rear of the room to the small stairway that led to the upper levels. The assault team moved up the winding staircase towards the third floor.

  “Captain, both The Gordita and The Surprise have left the fight—both have taken heavy damage, and they’re attempting to limp back to Earth. Fighters are taking a beating. One has shifted back to The Lilly. Repair drones are standing by,” Perkins reported.

  “Captain, our shields are down to thirty percent,” Orion piped in, now clearly concerned.

  Putting his attention back on the display feeds and the assault team, Jason saw they had entered the third floor vestibule and were heading for the congressional prayer room.

  Move it, guys, we’re running out of time here, Jason said to himself.

  “Cap, looks like there’s a barricade. It’s some kind of rock or marble. This could take a while,” Billy said apologetically.

  “We don’t have a while—”

  “Wait a minute, Ricket just sent me the access code—hold on.”

  Jason watched as one of the SEALs entered something at the access node off to the right of the entrance. He must have entered the keys incorrectly; he shook his head and started over. Jason caught himself holding his breath. The barricade silently slid open. The assault team rushed in.

  Once inside, it took a moment for their helmet cam optics to adjust. Tall, thick candles flickered in the dimly lit room. Here again, the room had been transformed. All furnishings had been removed, with the exception of what appeared to be a marble platform of sorts. The familiar six high priests, in long silk robes and peculiar cone-shaped headdresses, knelt around the platform in prayer. The top of the platform held the remains of their late Emperor Quorp.

  Jason wondered how Billy was going to handle the situation. He watched as the SEAL team took up posts around the room while Billy approached the platform. The first to rise was High Priest Overlord Lom.

  “How dare you interrupt our sacred solicitation,” Priest Lom said, angry contempt in his voice.

  Without any preamble, Billy simply scooped up Emperor Quorp’s remains, threw the lifeless body over his shoulder, and headed back out of the room. Jason held back a chuckle. Well, that’s one way to do it, he thought. Billy quickly moved back into the vestibule and down the stairs. No one left the room empty handed. Each SEAL team member snatched up one of the high priests, who kicked and fought them every step of the way. Within minutes, they were all secured in the shuttle and had shifted back to The Lilly’s flight deck. Jason arrived as the shuttle’s rear gangway door lowered to the deck. Standing at the rear of the shuttle were Billy and the other SEALs—each still wrestling with a Craing high priest. Jason took a breath, realizing he needed to play things just right. High Priest Lom was the first to notice him and stopped fighting. The others followed suit.

  “How dare you treat us like this? Your death will be slow and painful.”

  Jason simply nodded. He was being hailed. “Go for Captain.”

  Orion’s voice was strained. “Captain, our shields are down to ten percent. All but one of our fighters have returned. The Pacesetter is back in open space, but her shields are failing as well.”

  “Thank you, Gunny. Have Wilson phase-shift out of there.” Jason brought his attention back to High Priest Lom.

  “I
don’t have a second to waste here. To prove that, I’m going to make my point. One of you will die within the next twenty seconds. It will be up to you to decide who.”

  Slowly and deliberately, Jason removed his sidearm. The barrel of his energy pistol moved across the group at head level. Jason looked into each high priest’s eyes. He saw their fear. They believed his threat. “Five seconds, who will it be?” Jason calmly asked.

  The priests looked to one another, then back at Jason. “There is no need to kill any one of us, Captain,” Lom said, a slight quiver in his voice. “You are truly barbaric, but we will do as you ask.”

  “Fine. You will instruct your people, your fleet commanders—that Emperor Quorp is dead. Everyone is to follow the wishes of Emperor Reechet.” Jason continued to point his weapon directly toward Lom’s head.

  “Yes, yes … agreed—we all agree! Put away your weapon,” Lom pleaded, and nodded in the direction of the others to also obey.

  Jason moved quickly. First, he grabbed one of the priests by the elbow, separating him from the group.

  “Take off your robe and hand it to Emperor Reechet,” Jason commanded. The priest stood immobile, an incredulous expression on his face. “Come on, move it or I’ll strip you down myself.” The priest looked to the others for help, but received only blank stares in return. Reluctantly, he removed his robe and headdress and placed them in Ricket’s outstretched arms, leaving the priest looking most uncomfortable standing solely in what was not significantly different from a woman’s long slip. Jason helped Ricket into the robe and swapped his baseball cap for the new headdress. He then took the lifeless body of Emperor Quorp and placed it unceremoniously on the floor in a seated position. Ricket stood to the side of the emperor’s body.

  “Lilly, please record visuals and audio of Ricket standing alongside Emperor Quorp’s body. Ensure this is broadcasted to the bridge of every Craing vessel,” Jason emphasized.

  “Recording has begun, sir,” the AI replied.

  Ricket, standing in his newly-adorned robe, looked more regal than Jason had thought possible. He started talking immediately. “I am Emperor Reechet. Once again, I am your sole Emperor. Quorp has passed and stands among the other fallen emperors and is now one with our noble ancestry. Now look upon the body of Emperor Quorp and see for yourselves, he is no longer of this world. Look upon the faces of your high priest overlords.” On cue, the high priests filed in around Ricket and stood at the bulkhead. With their heads bowed, each in turn looked up and nodded his head. “You, those of the Craing fleet, I order you to stop this battle. Stop fighting now and prepare your ships to be boarded. And pray you are not the one to be selected for the caldrons—to be consumed by your conquerors.”