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

stripes of the U.S. flag emblem on the side of the vessel. Sure enough, there were eight red stripes instead of seven. Chuckles erupted around the table.
    “Good intentions. But their message to us is anything but subtle. Why it took them two months to convey it is anyone’s guess,” the admiral said.
    Jason shrugged. “That’s a hell of a lot of white paint. Probably had to bring it in from somewhere else. Another planet somewhere.” Jason smiled at his father. “Are we to surmise our fleet has increased by five thousand warships?”
    “It’s certainly an unconventional way to convey the news.” The admiral raised two fingers to his ear. He raised his other hand at them as he listened. He nodded twice and said, “Understood. Admiral Reynolds out.” He looked around the table, then to the feeds on the displays. “As of three minutes ago, we received an unconditional surrender from the 9th, 173rd, and 25th fleets. Apparently, they wanted there to be no doubt about their intentions.”
    Cheers erupted from all around the room. Those on live feeds were just as vocal as those sitting at the table. Jason saw Nan smiling, wiping tears from her eyes.
    “All right, settle down, everyone. It’s about time we’ve had some good news. Obviously, we need to sit down with the fleet commanders. Captain Reynolds, assemble a security team and prepare to join me on board their command meganaught.”
    Jason sat back and watched as those at the meeting quickly dispersed. So much had changed within a matter of minutes—everyone needed to make new preparations. One by one the live feeds flickered off. The admiral left the compartment, talking to Walker.
    Jason eventually stood and stepped away from the table. To his left he noticed one of the display feeds was still active. There, standing alone, was Dira. Her eyes … those incredible, violet eyes, were watching him. A full minute passed—neither spoke—neither moved. The sadness Jason felt was also mirrored on her face.
    “I’ve missed you, Jason.”
    “Come back … come back to me.”
    She shook her head with barely any movement. “I’m needed here. My parents … Jhardon needs me.”
    “There’s no way I’m giving up on what we have.”
    Her expression changed from one of sadness to cynicism. “I think Nan might have something to say about that, Jason; she’s carrying your child.”
    “Listen, you and I weren’t … well, we weren’t together then. Not really. Hell, it was one night. A mistake. It took place over six months ago. Neither Nan nor I have any intention of getting back together again. How could you not know that my heart belongs to you?”
    She seemed to take that in and the sadness returned to her face. “Well … then. This truly is a bitter goodbye, isn’t it? I need to go. My life is no longer my own. One week from now I will assume the title of Queen of Jhardon. Nothing can change that. Goodbye, you will always have a special place within my heart, Jason.”
    Jason’s mind reeled. He wanted to reach through the display and pull her into his arms—to hold her tight and make everything perfect between them again. She tilted her head and smiled—the kind of sad smile that conveyed all the pain and regret that a person could possibly endure. She turned then and slowly walked away. The display flickered twice and went black.

Chapter 11
     
     
     
    Apparently word had quickly spread throughout the remaining Allied worlds that three Craing fleets had been dropped off at Earth’s doorstep, all tied up with a pretty red bow. Jason and his team waited on the flight deck outside the Perilous . The admiral was soon inundated with interstellar communications—it seemed everyone now wanted to be friends. Jason himself had been contacted by a constable, a premier, and an empress when they couldn’t directly reach the admiral.
    Moving with haste, the admiral emerged from the DeckPort.
    “Sorry for the delay. Seems we’re the belle of the ball ,