“Orders, Cap?” came Grimes’ voice. Jason saw on his holo-display that all fourteen fighters were now speeding down the massive inner corridor in his wake.

  “I’m not going to micro-manage any of you … with that said, this would be a good time to unleash some of your own internal frustrations. I know I will. All I ask is that you avoid firing into the cages …” Jason was the first to commence firing into the enormous ship’s inner bowels. He selected the rail-cannon and kicked the setting up to what he guessed meant pure firing mayhem. It didn’t disappoint him. He let loose a barrage of fire that turned everything in its path to exploding fragments. Within seconds, he found the familiar crisscrossing catwalks that were located just outside the bridge bulkhead. Three more fighters joined him, and together the four of them hovered there. Jason squeezed the trigger and watched as the catwalks disintegrated. Then, with the combined rail munitions fire the four fighters let loose, the bulkhead was next to go. An ever-expanding opening appeared, as the first bulkhead was shredded. A second bulkhead, the one enclosing the bridge, soon went too, disappearing in a devastating hail. As the bridge came into view, Jason directed his fire in the direction he estimated the Craing officers were sitting, up on their raised platform. The hell storm that ravaged the bridge was beyond devastating—it was all consuming. What Jason didn’t expect was that multiple bulkheads, on the other side of the bridge, would also disappear, leaving a twenty-foot-wide gap now open to space beyond. What wasn’t secured or battened down was sucked out into the void of space … Jason continued to stare and thought he saw the glimmer of gold, what looked to be the upper torso of a Craing officer, being sucked out through the gaping hole. In that brief span of time, no more than a minute or so, although it felt quite a bit longer, Jason was conscious of all the pain and devastation the Craing had inflicted on so many, mostly innocent, people. He wanted his moment of primal retribution to count for something. Sitting in his fighter, watching as the last particles of the dreadnaught bridge were swept out and away into space, he had to admit … he did feel better. Perhaps he needed to feel a sense of retaliatory pride in order to face whatever was coming next. Jason knew right then and there that this was just the beginning of their retribution. He was reminded of a particular Shakespearian quote from Julius Caesar he’d read back in high school. He said the words aloud:

  “Cry ‘Havoc’ and let slip the dogs of War.”

  Chapter 44

  The other fourteen fighter pilots opted to stay on the dreadnaught—there were still plenty of things to shoot at and this was the most fun any of them had experienced in a long time.

  Jason phase-shifted back onto the Minian’s flight deck and hailed the XO for an update on the intruder situation.

  “Captain, we’ve had to bring reinforcements over from the other ships. As bad as the Serapins are, and definitely they’re bad, it’s the sloths. Something to do with their furry coats. Plasma fire has relatively little effect on them. We’ve found projectiles work the best, but the resulting damage to the ship is too much of a negative consequence. Did I mention they’re big? Ten feet tall and as wide as a small car.”

  “Where are they? How far into the Minian’s hull are we talking about?”

  “They’re all over the place, Captain. Billy reports he’s already lost ten SEALs.”

  Jason cut the connection to the XO and hailed Ricket.

  “Go for Ricket.”

  “What happened to the security drones we had roaming around the Minian a while ago? Any chance we can get them into the fight, help take out the intruders?”

  “I’d already thought of that, Captain, and yes, they are still around. Currently, they have been deployed where there are the heaviest concentration of … um … the beasts.”

  Jason found Billy’s Minian location via his life-icon on his HUD. At first, finding it hard to find an adequate landing space on the ship, Jason eventually went forward and phase-shifted further away than he’d planned. He landed in an area of the Minian he was unfamiliar with, which wasn’t surprising since the ship was as big as a dreadnaught, and he’d had limited time to explore her many corridors and compartments. The particular corridor he’d phase-shifted into was wide—close to twenty feet across. Up ahead, he saw a small group of SEALs, including Billy and Rizzo, and also his brother Brian, all firing toward a white wall.

  Jason realized it wasn’t a wall at all, but one of the giant sloth creatures. The XO hadn’t exaggerated: it was easily ten feet tall and took up nearly half the corridor. Jason had to do a double take on his HUD. The amount of plasma fire coming from the team’s multi-guns spiked the temperature—now climbing to over three hundred degrees. The sloth, enduring ongoing hits, probably some well before Jason arrived, was faltering. It roared like a lion, exposing thick yellow teeth between two-foot-long tusks.

  The beast took two steps backward and stumbled over the corpses of two fallen SEALs. Billy and his team moved forward, continuing their onslaught. The beast’s end came quickly. It wavered one last time before crashing to the deck, which felt like an earthquake.

  It was then Billy noticed Jason’s presence. “Oh, thanks for all the help. Enjoy the show?”

  “You seemed to have everything in hand.” Jason brushed by everyone to get closer to the sloth. He knelt down next to it, muttering, “These things are badass.”

  Brian replied, “They’re worse than that. Earlier, I saw one kill a Serapin, simply because it stood in its path.”

  “So nobody’s come up with a way to stop them? At least more effectively than what you’ve been doing?”

  Billy, Brian, and Rizzo together gestured toward the corridor, previously blocked by the sloth. Brian said, “The hopper. He’s killed about five of the things.”

  “Seriously?”

  They all nodded again. “Hopper’s the real badass. Gets those sharp claws of his up and jams them forward like a pile driver right into their chests. Then he eats them.”

  “Eats the sloths?”

  “No … the hearts. He likes their hearts,” Brian said.

  “What about the Serapins? Does the hopper do the same thing with them?” Jason asked.

  Brian said, “Actually the hopper has stayed away from the Serapins.”

  “Although the Serapins are half the size,” Rizzo added. “We supposed the hopper didn’t much like the taste of Serapin meat or maybe was afraid of them.”

  A thumping noise, coming from down the corridor, was getting louder. “Something’s coming.” Jason picked up a dead SEAL’s multi-gun from off the deck and, after checking its settings, he pointed it in the direction of the approaching sound.

  “Don’t shoot,” Brian barked. “I know that sound. Hopper has a peculiar gait.”

  Sure enough, it was the hopper. Bloodied from head to foot, it slowed when it saw the group and came to rest behind Brian.

  Jason looked at his HUD and saw no more sloths … nor Serapins, either, for that matter.

  Jason hailed Orion, “Status?”

  “Looks like the area of the ship you’re located in has the least amount of sloths and Serapins now, Captain,” Orion said. “There’s two sloths approaching a DeckPort on Level 1. They’ve been squeezing into them from the start. Tight fit, but it shows they’re fairly smart. The Serapins are on the same two decks they were on when they originally entered the ship. Okay, here’s an update: the two sloths are now on Deck 5 … you know, where the ship’s bridge is located.”

  “We’re on it, Gunny,” Jason said, and pointed toward the closest DeckPort. “We need to get up to Deck 5. Sloths are headed for the bridge.” Brian took off first, followed by the hopper, and the others close behind him.

  When Jason arrived on Deck 5 from the DeckPort, two sloths were about halfway down the corridor to the bridge. Moving fairly quickly, with one behind the other, they ignored the crew’s presence and kept going their own way. Billy and Rizzo, both kneeling on one knee, fired multiple pulses into the sloth’s broad back. That caught its attention and it reared around, roaring angrily. Both clawed hands, which were each about the size of a baseball mitt, came up as if clawing at the air. Billy and Rizzo stopped firing and, as if sensing the right timing of things, the hopper darted forward. As he approached the sloth he slowed, obviously wanting to avoid those big claws. Then Jason noticed the other sloth continuing on toward the bridge.

  Scrolling through his various HUD menu settings, Jason found a micro-missile ordnance that looked like it might do the trick. He raised his gun to fire, but now the hopper was weaving back and forth down the hall, snakelike, and Jason didn’t have a clear shot. He looked at his HUD and saw that Bristol and Granger were both in the bridge.

  Jason hailed Bristol.

  “Yeah?”

  Jason wanted to reprimand him for his poor comms etiquette, but let it go. “Do you have a multi-gun anywhere around you?”

  “No.”

  “You wearing your battle suit?” Jason asked.

  “Um … yeah. Well, partially … My helmet’s retracted.”

  “Well, put it up. In about five seconds a sloth is coming through the door. You can use the suit’s integrated plasma guns. You’ll need to hold it off until we get there.”

  “A sloth is comi—”

  Jason watched as the lead sloth moved closer to entering the bridge. The hopper was now only feet from the closest sloth. Jason caught Billy’s eye and mouthed the words, “How long does this take?”

  Billy exhaled and shook his head, whispering back, “He dances around awhile before he strikes.”

  Jason saw Bristol peering out from the bridge entrance up ahead and quickly disappear back as the sloth approached. Jason was tempted to let Bristol deal with the beast on his own for a while, but was more afraid of the damage that might occur inside the bridge.

  Jason phase-shifted from the corridor into the bridge. Bristol was firing from his two wrist-mounted plasma guns, while Granger hid behind a console, not far from where Jason appeared.

  “Bristol, take two steps backwards,” Jason ordered.

  Bristol did as he was told and Jason brought up his multi-gun. The sloth’s fur had proven to be nearly impregnable, so when he fired, he aimed for its head. The timing of the micro-missile couldn’t have been more perfect. As the sloth opened his jaws to let out another roar, the missile entered its gaping, wide open mouth and, a nanosecond later, exploded. The result was the smattering of bone, various chunks of muscles and tissue, along with a surprisingly large amount of gray matter, all splattering out into every direction. Bristol, standing two steps away from the beast, took much of the gory mess in his face. He’d neglected to raise his helmet as Jason had ordered.

  Chapter 45

  Nan Reynolds was on her knees, her mouth poised over the lip of a toilet. Now only dry heaves, she waited to see if this was a longer respite or if she was going to be sick again. She’d suffered morning sickness with Mollie, too, but she didn’t remember it being anywhere near this bad. She thought about Jason and how she would do physical harm to him right now if he were anywhere near her vicinity.

  She reeled off several toilet paper sheets, ripped them from the roll, and dabbed the corners of her mouth.

  “You okay in there, Mom?” a voice asked from the other side of the door.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You sound like you barfed up a Volkswagen.”

  “Pretty close to what if felt like. Why don’t you watch TV, Mollie? I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  “You have a phone call. It’s from the White House. They say it urgent.”

  “I’ll be right out.”

  * * *

  Nan, with Mollie in tow, was picked up in front of their Georgetown brownstone and quickly couriered to the front steps of the White House. This wasn’t Nan’s first White House meeting over the past few days, but it was her first impromptu one. Mollie was free from school for the weekend, and they’d planned to spend the day together. Mollie had mentioned something about wanting to visit the Smithsonian, but no museum today. She’d have to settle for seeing the inside of the White House instead.

  Nan was by no means the president’s only visitor. Pulling into the sweeping driveway, she spotted on the north lawn a U.S., formerly Craing, light cruiser. Along with the limo she and Mollie were passengers in there were ten others, also waiting to drop someone off at the White House steps.

  Nan looked over to Mollie, who had moved from seat to seat in the spacious limousine and was currently sitting across from her, trying to open the liquor cabinet.

  “There’s nothing for you in there. Why don’t you come sit next to me? We’re almost there.”

  “What do you think the president wants to talk to you about?” Mollie asked, joining her mother on the long leather seat.

  “I think there’s new developments in space.”

  “Do you think Dad’s okay?” Mollie asked, her voice sounding tight and controlled.

  “Yes, I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s just wait and see. Here we go, we’re here.”

  The limo’s rear door was opened by someone in a uniform. First Mollie, then Nan, stepped out of the car and were ushered into the front entrance of the stately building. As they passed into the expansive front foyer, Nan saw people scurrying here and there with a marked sense of urgency. Several glanced in their direction, first staring at Nan and then Mollie. It’s a Saturday, I have a daughter, so deal with it Nan thought.

  A young woman in her mid-twenties approached them and smiled. “Hi, Nan, my name is Kalinda White. I’m an aide here, in the White House. And you must be Mollie,” she said, smiling down at the impetuous nine-year-old.

  “That’s me.”

  Kalinda’s smile began fading fast as she put a leading hand on Nan’s arm and firmly urged her to follow. “We need to move fast, Nan. President Ross is in a meeting with the Joint Chiefs, and your father-in-law, or I guess ex-father-in-law.”

  “Grandpa’s here?” Mollie asked, perking up.

  Kalinda nodded and picked up her pace as they moved deeper into the West Wing. They passed through an empty room with two secretary desks; a plate holding two open-faced bagels topped with cream cheese caught Nan’s eye and her stomach churned. She brought up a hand to her mouth and gave a silent prayer she wouldn’t throw up on the president of the United States.

  Kalinda opened another door and held it open for Nan to pass through. “I can watch Mollie for you, if you wish.”

  Nan realized she was standing at the threshold to the Oval Office. “That would be great.” She looked down at Mollie and winked at her. “I’ll come find you as soon as I’m done here.” She watched as Mollie was escorted away and already asking Kalinda questions about something or other.

  Nan entered the Oval Office and saw only two people in the room: the president and Admiral Reynolds. She had a most terrible realization. Jason must have been killed on his mission to the Craing worlds. The admiral, as well as the president, wanted to convey this dire information themselves. Oh God, how do I tell Mollie?

  They both looked up and stood as she came into the room. “Mr. President, Admiral Reynolds.”

  They must have seen the stricken look on her face because the admiral quickly shook his head. “Jason’s fine, Nan … at least as far as I know.”

  Nan let out a breath of relief and shook the president’s outstretched hand and gave the admiral a hug.

  The president wasted no time getting to the point. “Nan, I need to bring you up to speed on the latest events in space.”

  “You are referring to the Allied mission sent to the Craing worlds?”

  “No, Nan. I’m referring to the six Craing dreadnaughts that just entered our solar system.”

  The room went quiet while Nan processed that bit of information. “Are these the same—”

  “We believe so,” the admiral said.

  As secretary of inter-stellar relations, Nan was well aware of the current state of affairs in space. She spoke to Admiral Reynolds at least once a day. As of late, the Craing had amassed thousands of warships at two key points: one within the star system at Orion’s belt, and the other, in Craing space. Recent destruction of certain Allied worlds included Lapoine, Coral-19, Halperon, Vori, Lear-Escott, and, partially, Jhardon. And, more recently, Carz-Mau. The vast devastation signaled the Craing had indeed begun what they referred to as the Great Space. The only good news to date, and that hadn’t been confirmed yet, was the tactical bombing of the Craing worlds by Jason’s space team. Now hearing six dreadnaughts had entered their own solar system was the worst news possible. Beyond doubt, they were the same six black dreadnaughts, the Vanguard fleet, the planet killers, she’d heard about from the admiral.

  The admiral said, “Nan, it’s more than the oncoming dreadnaught fleet. We estimate there are close to fifteen hundred Craing warships following close behind.”

  “What of our own fleet? How soon can they be here to protect us?”

  “What’s left of our fleet can be here in minutes. We’re holding steady at about four hundred fifty warships. If prior actions speak for themselves, the Vanguard fleet will enter Earth’s orbit within the next few hours. The other Craing warships will engage any ship that tries to assist our planet.”

  “We need to get people below ground … try to save as many as possible.”

  President Ross said, “From what the admiral’s informed me, their Vanguard fleet atomizes planets. Going below ground would be an act of futility.”

  Nan’s thoughts went to Mollie and Boomer and her unborn child, and then to Jason. “Where’s Jason’s convoy right now? Where’s the Minian?”

  Chapter 46

  One sloth and three Serapins to go. Lack of sleep was taking its toll on Jason. He’d spent the last four hours hunting the remaining sloths and Serapins. One by one they were going down, but at a cost. Fifteen SEALs and three Delta Force men were lying in the Minian’s morgue, in Medical.