HAB 12(Scrapyard Ship)

Chapter 15




The Lilly was back at the freighter's starboard side. Lieutenant Dak had assembled the few remaining SEALs still onboard, as well as the med tech, Allen. Perkins watched the display with the various segmented helmet cam POVs. The team had used the shuttle to ferry over to the freighter and was currently in the process of clearing their airlock. Something about this situation made Perkins uncomfortable. Why only three survivors? Sure, there was damage, but nothing so catastrophic to the point that so many hands would have been lost. And why hadn't the pirates taken the ship, or destroyed her? By the time Perkins had connected the dots—dots that led to one singular conclusion, it was too late. It was a trap.

"Signal general quarters," the XO yelled.



* * *



At the sound of the klaxon, the solemn seaman was ready. His instructions had been clear. Trigger the three devices simultaneously. Only two remained, but that would be more than enough for their purposes. The only deviation he would make was to ensure that he would be there to greet them. With The Lilly AI now completely at his control, and with the impending breech, he was aware of something unfamiliar: A feeling of confidence. He walked with his head up, taller. A feeling of importance engulfed him. He reached into a small pouch at his side, found the square object, and let his thumb roll over the smooth protruding button. Not yet.

He picked up his pace, entered the DeckPort, and emerged on Level One. His two devices were well hidden and he was sure hadn’t been discovered. How that annoying little girl had found the one on Deck 5 was still a mystery. The AI had been reprogrammed—there was no way she could have told that little brat the location. I’ll figure it out. He brought his hand up and let it gently slide across the bulkhead as he walked. His bulkhead. His ship. The arrangement would have to be changed. There was no way they were going to hand this ship over to the Craing. Who was doing all the heavy lifting here? Their new high priests were nothing but conniving little shits. No, his brother had promised he wouldn’t let that happen. He’d already killed the three Craing dissenters for them. Whatever the Craing were paying for this ship, it wasn’t enough. Maybe he’d rename her. What kind of name is The Lilly, anyway? Too girly. No, he’d change it to something appropriate. Like The Guardian. Yeah, I like the sound of that.

Two crewmembers were running down the corridor toward him; they both looked at him. “What are you doing? Where you going, Bristol? Get back to Engineering—don’t you hear that f*cking alarm?”

Bristol continued down the corridor. The first of his devices was secured to the bulkhead behind a protruding ventilation duct. Bristol stopped in front of the duct and reached a hand above his head to the narrow open space behind it. There you are. He brought his hand down and looked thirty yards further down the corridor. There, up above, behind a similar duct, was the other device. They have no idea of its complexity. Simply elegant. Sure, Ricket did the lion’s share, building those crazy phase-shift belts. But who came up with this implementation? And the best part was that the ship, his ship, would not be damaged. Bristol continued on down the corridor until he was midway between both devices. He brought out the small transmitter and fingered the smooth button again. If everything went as planned, both devices would activate at the same moment. Two ten-yard radius sections of the ship would disappear for one hundred and twenty seconds—briefly phase-shifting to a parallel layer in the multiverse somewhere. The Lilly would never be completely exposed to open space. They’d thought of that. The pirates would have more than enough time to bring their vessel alongside and then access the ship. Then those same sections would return. No harm done. Bristol was ready. It was time. He pressed the button.





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