Free Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle by Mark Wayne McGinnis

will be no rescue operation, not with what we’re up against … until … we first deal with the three Craing fleets sitting on the other side of the line. If that is acceptable to you, Captain Reynolds.”
    Jason kept his expression neutral and said nothing. It was obviously a rhetorical question, anyway.
    “Captain Reynolds, you will put together a plan of attack and assemble your best-of-the-best Special Ops forces to bring about the successful retrieval of both Ricket and Gaddy. When the time comes, if … it comes … be ready to roll.”
    “Yes, sir … we’ll be ready,” Jason said, briefly making eye contact with Billy.
    “Issue number three: As we can all see by the attendance of many of our past Alliance dignitaries on virtual display, there is an interest in rebuilding the Alliance. If we can make that happen, our fleet of one hundred warships will more than double. It’s a start. By the end of today, we will attempt to ratify a new, unilateral declaration. One that reestablishes our commitment to one another.”
    “I don’t mean to throw a wet blanket on such positive talk, Admiral … but what’s different now?” Nan asked, looking mystified. “I’m sorry, but it wasn’t that long ago when Earth was on the brink of destruction at the hands of a Vanguard fleet, when many of the leaders at this same meeting refused to come to our aid.”
    “Just as you refused to come to our aid when the Craing set our sister planet ablaze, only days prior to that,” countered the green alien, wearing a black turban. He looked indignant, as he looked left, and then right, in an apparent attempt to garner support from the other live-feed individuals in attendance.
    The admiral held up an open hand and nodded in agreement, “Our friend, the esteemed Sultan of Ali Cafrica, makes a valid point … just as you do, Madam President. And this brings us to issue number four: Ot-Mul’s combined forces in space. No longer can we refer to him and his kind as the Craing. He’s the rogue leader of an incredibly powerful, far-reaching military force. Gaddy, in the past, commonly referred to him as the Drac-Vin … the evil one. So, for no better terminology, we’ve designated Ot-Mul’s forces as Drac-Vin. The truth is, we’re not entirely sure how many warships are at his disposal. It could be a hundred thousand … it could be more. What we do know is there’s much contention. Thousands of Craing, sympathetic to the revolution back home, have gone AWOL. No less than two hundred warships have either returned to the Craing worlds or fled away into open space.”
    “Where does that leave us with Fleet 9, Fleet 173, and Fleet 25—the five thousand warships sitting on the other side of the line?” Jason asked.
    For the first time Jason saw a smile on his father’s face. “For the last ten minutes I’ve been getting NanoCom updates from the Minian ’s bridge. I wasn’t going to read too much into this, but indications are … well, quite promising.”
    From the looks around the room, and from the live feeds, the admiral knew he’d better get to the point fast. He sat up straighter in his seat and gestured for everyone to look at the display just over his left shoulder. As if on cue, the feed changed to open space. They were looking at a single, painted white Craing light cruiser.
    “Okay … a U.S. fleet light cruiser. Big deal,” Bristol said, dismissing the feed with the wave of his hand.
    The feed widened to show no less than five hundred ships.
    “Um, we don’t have that many warships … not even close,” Jason said, not fully understanding what he was seeing. Then, under closer scrutiny, he realized not all the ships were white. Some were only partially painted, others not at all. The feed changed to another, close-up, view—this one showed a gleaming white Craing destroyer. Everyone around the table leaned forward.
    “There’s something wrong with the flag,” Billy said.
    Jason counted the bright red