Invasion (Blue Star Marines Book 3)

by James David Victor

  Boyd sent the next drone, creating a branching path that could only create confusion for a few seconds, but it didn’t work. The Silence had not been fooled this time and stayed on the true target.

  As the Silence moved into weapons range, Boyd sent a destruct signal to the drone. It detonated off the Silence’s starboard side, but it was only powerful enough to distort sensor signals for a moment. Boyd pushed the shuttle a few degrees to port and kept the shuttle out of range of the spitz guns for another second.

  And then the fire came.

  Kitzov shouted as he fired the spitz guns. He sat in his command chair, his hands in the holographic gantlets, targeting and firing at the shuttle. The streams of pulse rounds flashed away into the void. The shuttle, twisting and turning, narrowly kept the streams of spitz gun pulses off her hull.

  Kitzov growled quietly. He focused on bringing down the shuttle. Inside, he was cursing at Boyd while also admiring the piloting skill. He was relishing the challenge of taking on a worthy opponent.

  The Faction’s leader was not as great a warrior as many under his leadership, but Boyd was no match for the Silence. The shuttle could dodge and weave, but the Silence had the firepower to win. The Silence closed in, bringing the shuttle into the area where Kitzov simply could not miss. It was only a matter of time, but he fought the controls, hoping to land a killing blow before it became a case of shooting fish in a very small barrel with a very large gun.

  “New signal, dead ahead,” the sensor operator said.

  Kitzov ignored the report and concentrated on delivering another burst that he was sure would smash the shuttle’s lower hull as it turned. He was sure it was just another diversionary tactic.

  “It’s Union. It’s a Union frigate,” the operator called out.

  Kitzov looked up from his command chair holo-image to the main holo-stage. A Union frigate had moved into the edge of sensor range and was on a direct heading for the Silence.

  “They are closing fast. They will be on us in seconds.”

  Kitzov detected the rising panic in his sensor operator’s voice and made a mental note to have him disciplined for cowardice after he killed Boyd. And there was still time for Kitzov to kill Boyd. He grinned and fired again.

  Boyd looked at the incoming signal, but the sensors on the shuttle were too weak to identify it yet. The momentary distraction was fatal. A salvo of spitz rounds raked across the rear port quarter of the shuttle. The drive field lost symmetry and sent the shuttle spinning offline. Boyd felt himself thrown hard to the side of the pilot’s chair. He struggled to regain control. Any second now, he would be a sitting target. It was a race against time to abandon the shuttle and take his chances in the void with only an environmental suit and its onboard power supply to get him to safety—the smallest life raft in the largest ocean.

  Boyd moved to unclip his seat belt. It would not release. He was losing grip of the buckle as the spinning shuttle pushed him hard into the pilot’s chair. As his vision started to blur, he saw the Silence move in closer. Moving in for the kill.

  12

  Featherstone stepped down from his command chair and walked up to the main holo-stage. The Faction ship must surely have seen him by now, but it was keeping the same heading.

  “It’s not a raider, sir,” Knole said. “It is Faction, but it looks like it has a Union configuration. It’s a frigate, sir.”

  “Is it the same frigate that escaped the Battle of Kalis?” Featherstone looked at the image of the ship and the range finder counting down.

  “It looks like, sir. The drive field pattern is not identical, but it might have been worked on since we saw it last.”

  “Well, it is unlucky for them, whoever it is. Send out standard Union handshake transmission and if she doesn’t respond, we will attack. Power up all weapons systems.”

  Doc Cronin called out in the affirmative and prepared the Resolute’s weapons. The spitz guns were already charged, the laser and mass beam assemblies coming online. By the time they were in range, they would be fully charged and ready to give fire.

  Featherstone’s mission brief was to maintain his patrol of the region beyond Supra on the lookout for any more Skarak ships. Reports from across the system were of a massive Skarak force moving into the system. The mine colony in the Sphere had been confirmed destroyed by a squadron of Blades. They had swept out to the location and confirmed that nothing but debris remained of the facility.

  The Skarak attack armada was built around a single massive ship, the Skarak mastership, and was supported by a number of warships. The power of this armada was huge, and the Union fleet could not take it on without concentrating its power against it. Featherstone’s Resolute and other smaller fleet craft were searching for the armada. Once found, the fleet—led by the carrier, Titan—would move to attack.

  But a Faction ship was not to be ignored. Featherstone would not pass up the opportunity to kill or capture a Faction ship. And this one was clearly a stolen Union ship. It was not just his professionalism that made him act, it was pride. No Faction captain would be allowed to steal a Union ship, not if Major Featherstone had anything to do with it.

  “The Faction ship is firing. She’s letting loose with all her spitz guns,” Sergeant Dorik called out. “I don’t know why. We are much too far out of her range.”

  “Maybe she just wants to give us a warning, scare us off,” Hemel said from the pilot’s seat.

  “Are you scared?” Knole said.

  “Not of this Faction ship. The sergeant, on the other hand? Maybe.”

  “You are right to be scared,” Dorik said. “I always knew you were the smart one here, Jim.”

  Jim Hemel laughed. He pulled a stick of candy from his jacket pocket and offered it to Dorik, who wrinkled his nose and shook his head. Hemel grinned and stuck the candy stick into the corner of his mouth.

  “Time to weapons range?” Featherstone said.

  “Three minutes,” Knole said, throwing the new readings to the main holo-stage.

  “Standby. Dorik, have the assault team ready to board the Faction ship.”

  “Issuing muster commands now, sir,” Dorik said. “Assault teams reporting ready for action, sir.”

  “Sir,” Knole shouted, “new signal. It’s small, so small it only just came on our sensor net. It’s between us and the Faction ship. Running close target scans now.”

  Featherstone watched the holo-stage. He was ready for anything.

  “It is Faction, a small ship. It’s right between us and the Faction ship. Might be a trap, a space mine. We’ll be on top of it in thirty seconds.”

  Featherstone had known the Faction to pull every dirty trick in the book. Running a small ship in its bow wave as an advanced weapon was a new tactic and could have seriously damaged the Resolute if it had run headlong into a core collapse. Fortunately, he had a great team on the command deck of the Resolute and they had spotted it.

  “Good work, Yan,” Featherstone said. “Target the smaller ship, Doc, and fire when ready.”

  “Coming into range of our spitz guns now,” Doc Cronin said. “Opening fire in five—”

  “Hold! Hold fire!” Yanic Knole shouted. “I’m detecting a transmission. It’s a Blue Star ident. There is someone in that ship.”

  Featherstone zoomed the image in on the small shuttle. It was tumbling out of control.

  “The Faction ship is firing at the smaller ship again,” Knole reported.

  “Combat drone now. Give me one, full yield. Target the larger Faction ship and fire.”

  Doc Cronin worked fast. A combat drone was always on standby and it was loaded into its tube in seconds. The launch codes were sent the second the outer launch doors were open. Doc sent the drone on its way. He set the yield as the drone was in flight.

  “Drone away. One minute to target.”

  Kitzov brought both fists down on to the edge of the holo-stage. He saw the combat drone leap away from the incoming Union ship. He knew that if the Union ship wa
s prepared to use combat drones then they were not looking to capture his ship, they were clearly intent on destroying the Silence. He looked back at his crew. They were eager and capable, but they were no match for a well-drilled Union crew.

  “Abandon the attack,” Kitzov said. “Set our heading upward from the ecliptic, put us in the northern arc of the Sphere.”

  “I’ll have the shuttle in range in a second,” the weapons operator said.

  Kitzov shook his head. He was pragmatic and knew when to retreat. “We lost this round. We will be back to fight another day.”

  Turning away from the holo-stage, he walked toward his command chair. The operators across the deck called out their new readings. The Silence was in full retreat. The combat drone was on its tail, but Kitzov had ordered retreat early enough that the drone would not trouble them and could be destroyed at leisure.

  A shadow appeared in the entrance to the flight deck. Kitzov recognized her immediately. He walked over to her, hands held out.

  “Little Enke, what are you doing up? You should be in the med-bay.”

  Thresh looked at the holo-stage. “I’m fine. Just a little groggy. Did you get Boyd?”

  Kitzov pursed his lips and shook his head. He put a gentle hand on Thresh’s arm. “Sorry, little one, he got away. I had to let him escape, but I’ll send my best hunters after him. We’ll get him. No one shoots my Enke and gets away with it.”

  Thresh touched Kitzov gently with her palm on his cheek. “You were always so good to me. As long as you are safe and able to lead the Faction, we will be strong. Forget about Boyd. Be alert to other assassins. The Union will send more. They want you dead more than anything.”

  Kitzov turned Thresh and led her off the flight deck. “You rest. I’ll need you soon enough.”

  Thresh nodded. She looked over her shoulder at the holo-stage. The signal was fading as the Silence powered away to the upper edge of the Sphere. She looked at the small signal of the shuttle and the larger Union ship closing in. She hoped Boyd was safe. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

  “The shuttle is spinning out of control, sir,” Knole said.

  “Preparing a grapple beam,” Dorik said.

  “Matching the shuttle’s spin, pitch, and yaw,” Hemel said. “We’re alongside her now.”

  “Bring the shuttle into our main hangar. Have the assault team standing by.”

  Dorik sent the instructions to the assault team to move to the hangar.

  “Sir, I’ll go to the hangar,” Dorik said.

  “Yes, Sergeant. Go.” Featherstone watched as the Faction ship disappeared from the sensor range, running and hiding like a true Faction coward. He turned his back on the holo-stage and walked over to his command chair. Stepping up and sitting down, he returned to his duties of scanning the region for Skarak.

  Dorik entered the hangar as the shuttle was drawn in by the grapple beam. The Blue Star Marine assault team were fully kitted out in their combat gear, environmental suits, and pulse rifles. They stood in two ranks, rifles aimed at the shuttle.

  The shuttle was positioned on the deck. Dorik sent a pair of Marines forward. They moved to the boarding ramp access panel and tapped it. The boarding ramp slid out and the hatch opened, revealing the interior of the shuttle. Inside, a single person in an environmental suit staggered.

  “Stand to,” Dorik said to the figure. “Surrender. Drop all weapons.”

  Boyd looked out at the Blue Star hangar, the assault teams, and the sergeant. He grinned broadly and pulled off his helmet. He dropped it to the deck.

  “Drop my weapons?” he said. “I don’t need a pulse rifle to take you down, Rik.”

  “Well, shoot me out of an airlock, if it isn’t Sergeant Will Boyd. What are you doing here alive, you old scroat?”

  Boyd walked over to Dorik, hand out, a broad smile across his face. “You’re the old one, Rik.”

  “Yeah.” Dorik clamped hold of Boyd’s hand. “Older, wiser, more handsome.”

  “Yeah, humble too,” Boyd returned.

  Dorik wrapped an arm over Boyd’s shoulders and dismissed the assault teams with a wave of his other hand. “You okay? You fit enough to come up to the command deck? I know a few Blue Stars who’ll be happy to see you alive, and a few others who will have lost their bets.”

  “The Faction ship,” Boyd said as he walked along with Dorik. “It’s the Silence. What happened to it?”

  “Got away,” Dorik said. “The major though it was better to save your kravin ass and let that one go.”

  Boyd felt a huge wave of relief at the thought that Thresh was still alive, but there was still a hit to his professional pride that the job he’d set out to do had not been done.

  “Kitzov is on that ship. It’s the Silence, the Faction flagship. We should pursue.”

  Dorik became serious. “Copy that, Sergeant.” Dorik tapped his wrist-mounted holo-stage and opened a channel to Featherstone, even though the command deck was only a few meters away.

  “Major. The ship escaping is the Silence, Kitzov’s own shi—”

  Boyd and Dorik walked onto the command deck before Featherstone could reply. On the main holo-stage was the image of Colonel Lawrence, Commanding Officer of the Blue Star Battalion.

  “Fall back to Supra and form up a on the lower flank of the Fleet,” the colonel was saying. All eyes were on his image.

  “Immediately,” Featherstone said. He pointed at Hemel in the pilot seat to get the Resolute underway on its new heading.

  “We have found the Skarak armada,” the colonel continued. “It is moving toward Supra. The Skarak mastership and twenty warships. The fleet is deploying the Titan and a dozen cruisers to that location, all available frigates and gunships to form up. You will be one of four Blue Star frigates in the attack group. You may be called upon for a special mission. Will you be ready to lead your company, Major?”

  “Yes, sir. You know I never wanted a desk. Front line is the bottom line, sir.”

  “I’ll drag you off the deck of that ship one day, Charles,” the colonel said, “but I know you’ll do a great job, whatever you are called on to do.”

  “Copy that, sir.” Featherstone saw the Resolute’s new heading on the holo-stage as the map was displayed next to the image of the colonel. “And we will be in formation in less than forty minutes, sir.”

  “Good work, Charles. Lawrence out.”

  Colonel Lawrence blinked out and the map of the region and the Resolute’s heading grew to fill the image.

  Featherstone turned around and looked down at Boyd.

  “Sergeant Boyd. Welcome back.”

  “Maybe you won’t be so keen to welcome me when I deliver my report, sir,” Boyd stepped forward a pace. “I let Kitzov get away…again. He was on that ship, the Silence.”

  “He’s got more lives than a Terra dune cat, that one, but even a dune cat runs out of lives eventually.”

  “And what’s more, I’ve blown my cover. They found me out. I was running for my life.”

  “And you got away. A Blue Star is not expected to throw their lives away if the mission does not go to plan. No mission goes to plan, Sergeant. You got close, you had a shot, you followed your orders and you survived. Any mission you walk away from had some degree of success. I’m not going to ask you to fall on your sword over this, Sergeant Boyd. But we are heading into some heat with the Skarak, and I’ll need all hands on deck. You feel ready to suit up in some proper Blue Star kit?”

  Boyd nodded. “Yes, sir.

  “I think you should stop by the med-bay first, though.” Featherstone looked at the various bruises on Boyd’s face.

  “I’m just fine, sir.”

  “That wasn’t a suggestion, Sergeant. That was an order. Get checked out, then suit up and fall in. Copy?”

  “Yes, sir,” Boyd said with a smile, then he saluted the major.

  Featherstone nodded. “Doc, take the sergeant down to the med-bay and get him patched up. Be quick about it. The Blue Sta
r Marines are going into battle.”

  13

  Boyd stood in the hangar with the assault team. Despite the soreness of some of his bruises, he felt good. It was good to be back. His Blue Star suit fit him perfectly. Every system on the suit was operating at peak efficiency, his faceplate was perfectly clear, and the holo-image displayed on his enhanced data view was crisp and updated by the second. It was a major upgrade from the Faction kit he had been forced to work with on the Odium Fist.

  The Odium Fist—it had become his home. He had infiltrated so deeply, so completely, that sometimes he allowed himself to forget he was a spy, an infiltrator. It made the deception easier to carry and more convincing. Having seen the old raider tumble away and explode in the face of the Skarak warship had been easy at first, but now it came back with hints of remorse. He wouldn’t miss Poledri or Noland or any of the other flight deck crew. They were all Faction pirates, criminals, and terrorists, and he was sworn to end them by any means necessary.

  But now the Faction was a sideshow compared to the Skarak invasion.

  In his time with the Faction, the Skarak had been largely ignored. Only now, back among his Blue Stars, did he realize the extent of the Skarak threat. Skarak ships had been probing the system for months, but the Faction group he’d been with had only been vaguely aware of them. Kitzov’s orders had first been to hide away and let the Union take the brunt of the Skarak attacks. Then, with the threat growing, Kitzov had seen an opportunity to strengthen his position. By destroying Union freighters, he weakened the Union and made them more vulnerable to the Skarak threat.

  Now Boyd realized the importance of those freighter convoys: to move as much Black Ice to the inner system as possible, to be prepared for the main Skarak attack, which now appeared to have come.

  Tactical intelligence on Terra had calculated the Skarak threat to the Scorpio System. The alien invaders were there to strip resources to power their own civilization, wherever it may lie, somewhere out beyond the Sphere in another star system. Surveillance drones had been sent to scour nearby star systems, but the Skarak had not yet been found.