HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship) Read Online Free
that ship of yours—perhaps both. I’d be proactive here. Hand over that old robot and be done with it. Do it now.
“That’s not going to happen,” Jason said flatly.
“They will not hesitate to unleash a hell storm on Earth. I’ve seen them do it time and time again. This time it would be Earth that would be uninhabitable for a thousand years, maybe more. Their newly appointed high priests have given them eight days to learn how to fly these ships, get familiar with their weapons systems.”
“Why don’t they just send the rest of their fleet, a few more dreadnaughts?” Jason asked.
“They still don’t understand how that ship of yours destroyed or incapacitated five hundred of their fleet ships. It’s an embarrassment they don’t want to repeat. No, better to send these three ships. Ships with comparable technology.”
“You mentioned the high priests. So they’re giving the orders now?” Jason asked.
Brian smirked. “High Priest Overlord Lom had always been in charge. Sure, the emperor is a living symbol to the people, but it’s the high priests that make the decisions. And unlike the emperor, they can be replaced. What happened with that robot of yours acting as Emperor Reechet won’t be allowed to happen again. Yes, they want to have him back, prop him up as a figurehead, but they certainly won’t let their masses blindly follow him.”
“It’s not up for discussion,” Jason repeated.
“You have eight days before those three ships, their new Emperor’s Guard, leave Craing space. I’m going out on a limb here even telling you this.”
“Careful, Brian. I certainly wouldn’t want to get in the way of your cozy relationship with the Craing.”
“This is bigger than just you and me, Jason. You need to bring this to the attention of the right people: Washington, other world governments. You need to prepare. Please make the right decision.” The screen went black and the bridge went quiet.
“XO, what’s the earliest The Lilly will be ready for flight?”
“Early tomorrow morning, Captain. Where to?”
“The Chihuahuan desert. The Alliance outpost.”
* * *
Back up top, it was Jason’s turn to make dinner—spaghetti and meatballs. Smoke filled the kitchen from the first batch of garlic bread scorching in the oven. As Jason ran around opening windows and flapping a dish towel, he thought about his father. Admiral Perry had become even quieter, more reclusive. In fact, Jason couldn’t remember him saying more than three or four words in days. Jason had hoped that some downtime revisiting the scrapyard, his old stomping grounds, would provide Admiral Perry the necessary time to heal his inner conflict. But there was something else disturbing the admiral. Perhaps, in his view, he had failed the Alliance. On top of that, Jason was able to accomplish what his father could not: defeat the Craing in open space. But the admiral wasn’t taking into account that it wasn’t so much Jason’s extraordinary skills as a commander as it was his taking advantage of the resources around him—namely The Lilly . Where the admiral had kept the ship hidden and protected, Jason had exploited its phenomenal resources.
As the smoke cleared, he opened the oven door and checked his second batch of bread. What his father didn’t get was that the Alliance would soon fall apart without the admiral’s strong presence. Fifteen years of work. One by one, Admiral Perry Reynolds had made planetary alliances across multiple sectors, committing even the most reclusive of planets to come together to unify against the Craing. What his father wasn’t considering was that, without himself at the helm, the Alliance’s chances of defeating the Craing were nil.
* * *
Their evening ritual was sitting on the porch, plates on laps, and a six-pack shared between them.
“Progress with the rebuild?” Jason asked, passing his father the basket of garlic bread and expecting a one or two word
“That’s not going to happen,” Jason said flatly.
“They will not hesitate to unleash a hell storm on Earth. I’ve seen them do it time and time again. This time it would be Earth that would be uninhabitable for a thousand years, maybe more. Their newly appointed high priests have given them eight days to learn how to fly these ships, get familiar with their weapons systems.”
“Why don’t they just send the rest of their fleet, a few more dreadnaughts?” Jason asked.
“They still don’t understand how that ship of yours destroyed or incapacitated five hundred of their fleet ships. It’s an embarrassment they don’t want to repeat. No, better to send these three ships. Ships with comparable technology.”
“You mentioned the high priests. So they’re giving the orders now?” Jason asked.
Brian smirked. “High Priest Overlord Lom had always been in charge. Sure, the emperor is a living symbol to the people, but it’s the high priests that make the decisions. And unlike the emperor, they can be replaced. What happened with that robot of yours acting as Emperor Reechet won’t be allowed to happen again. Yes, they want to have him back, prop him up as a figurehead, but they certainly won’t let their masses blindly follow him.”
“It’s not up for discussion,” Jason repeated.
“You have eight days before those three ships, their new Emperor’s Guard, leave Craing space. I’m going out on a limb here even telling you this.”
“Careful, Brian. I certainly wouldn’t want to get in the way of your cozy relationship with the Craing.”
“This is bigger than just you and me, Jason. You need to bring this to the attention of the right people: Washington, other world governments. You need to prepare. Please make the right decision.” The screen went black and the bridge went quiet.
“XO, what’s the earliest The Lilly will be ready for flight?”
“Early tomorrow morning, Captain. Where to?”
“The Chihuahuan desert. The Alliance outpost.”
* * *
Back up top, it was Jason’s turn to make dinner—spaghetti and meatballs. Smoke filled the kitchen from the first batch of garlic bread scorching in the oven. As Jason ran around opening windows and flapping a dish towel, he thought about his father. Admiral Perry had become even quieter, more reclusive. In fact, Jason couldn’t remember him saying more than three or four words in days. Jason had hoped that some downtime revisiting the scrapyard, his old stomping grounds, would provide Admiral Perry the necessary time to heal his inner conflict. But there was something else disturbing the admiral. Perhaps, in his view, he had failed the Alliance. On top of that, Jason was able to accomplish what his father could not: defeat the Craing in open space. But the admiral wasn’t taking into account that it wasn’t so much Jason’s extraordinary skills as a commander as it was his taking advantage of the resources around him—namely The Lilly . Where the admiral had kept the ship hidden and protected, Jason had exploited its phenomenal resources.
As the smoke cleared, he opened the oven door and checked his second batch of bread. What his father didn’t get was that the Alliance would soon fall apart without the admiral’s strong presence. Fifteen years of work. One by one, Admiral Perry Reynolds had made planetary alliances across multiple sectors, committing even the most reclusive of planets to come together to unify against the Craing. What his father wasn’t considering was that, without himself at the helm, the Alliance’s chances of defeating the Craing were nil.
* * *
Their evening ritual was sitting on the porch, plates on laps, and a six-pack shared between them.
“Progress with the rebuild?” Jason asked, passing his father the basket of garlic bread and expecting a one or two word
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