Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle by Mark Wayne McGinnis

he’d be returning from this mission. He knew the odds weren’t in their favor. “All right … I’ll get back here as soon as I can. It may take a few days.”
    The admiral’s face was taut, his smile forced; he too was well aware this could be the last time they would see each other. “Just get back as soon as possible. If you hadn’t noticed, we have a shortage of qualified command personnel around here.”
    Jason stood tall and saluted his father. The admiral stood and returned the salute. Neither spoke further as Jason headed out of the ready room.

Chapter 14
     
     
     
    Ot-Mul was pleased with himself. He’d maintained a level head and he’d stayed the course. There hadn’t been a defection by a crewmember, or by a warship, in over a week. The truth was, he was almost disappointed. He’d come to enjoy the carnage his four amazing battle droids exhibited when in full-action mode. Looking at them now in their holding berth, standing motionless against the bulkhead, he pondered if somehow they too missed those ruthless encounters—if something hidden deep in their advanced droids’ psyches had achieved a small level of consciousness, and that they were now restlessly awaiting their master’s edict.
    “Soon, my friends … I assure you, it won’t be long.” He waited several more moments, almost expecting one of the droids’ gun-turret heads to nod its assent, but no … he was sure they were far too disciplined for that.
    * * *
     
    Ot-Mul arrived on the bridge exactly seven minutes later. He made his way to the raised platform, ignoring the other three bridge commanders as he sat in the number one command chair. While he kept perfectly still, he let his eyes roam the wide expanse of what was considered the Craing’s most quintessential warship bridge. An assault class destroyer, the ship was far and above anything the Craing had produced at any of their many deep-space shipyards, spanning out to multiple distant sectors. The assault class destroyer, appropriately renamed the Assailant , hadn’t been manufactured by the Craing—they’d absconded with her. One of the few alien races the Craing could never quite defeat, even with far greater numbers of warships, the Korlm, even to this day, were able to thwart whatever the Craing threw at them.
    Seizing the Assailant wasmore good luck than strategic battlefield prowess. The Craing had stumbled upon the Korlm shipyard when fleeing a devastatingly powerful small Korlm armada. Now, six months later, Ot-Mul had an excellent opportunity to battle-test the destroyer … and against one of his own Craing meganaughts, no less. As the Craing’s most formidable warship fled to open space, another important asset attempting to desert, Ot-Mul commanded the fleet to hold back. He took up the pursuit himself in his newly acquired Assailant. Easily overtaking the fleeing meganaught, they were soon going head-to-head against each other. The Assailant withstood a relentless pounding—fusion missiles, plasma cannons, as well as hundreds of fighter droids—everything the four coupled, heavily armed dreadnaughts could throw at the smaller vessel. But it was the Assailant ’s own formidable DMEWs, Dark Matter Energy Weapons, that decisively won the day. The Assailant had taken less than twenty minutes to completely gut the combatant meganaught. Obliterated it. Yes … many thousands of Craing crew died—but they hadn’t died in vain. Not with the knowledge Ot-Mul had acquired. Now, as he sat back in his chair, he was sure he had a vessel that was more than capable of battling his hated enemy The Lilly . Perhaps, even the Minian .
    “Admiral, we have reached our final convergence coordinates. We are being hailed by the ChorLok,” Ot-Mul’s second-in-command announced.
    “On the screen.”
    An elderly, round-faced, Craing officer appeared on the holographic display.
    “Admiral Too. Report,” Ot-Mul said, with a cold stare.
    “Welcome to the Orion system, Supreme