Forged to Lead (Jack Forge, Fleet Marine Book 3)

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Forged to Lead (Jack Forge, Fleet Marine Book 3) Page 3

by James David Victor


  “Finish the job, Jack.” Torent’s voice was weak. “Secure the Kraken.”

  “Yes, boss,” Jack said, scurrying back from the edge of the gully. “I’ll advance from the right. Terry, you advance from the left. We’ll have to go in there after the kravin thing. Ready?”

  But before Terry could respond, Jack noticed the fine lines in the surface of the Kraken light up with a bright white light. It rippled through the network of delicate, twisting lines that covered all Chitin exteriors from the soldiers to the massive Leviathan. Jack knew what it meant. It meant the Chitin had set the Kraken to self-destruct. It meant Jack and 6th squad had only moments to leave the area. It meant they had lost.

  “Fall back. Fall back, on the double.” Jack was clambering to his feet. “That Chit craft is going to blow. Move. Move. Move.”

  Jack ran. He knew Osho could keep up and she had started running the same time he had. Up ahead, Jack saw the other three remaining members of 6th squad. Sam Torent was being carried by his squad-mates. As Jack got closer, he could see the wound Torent had sustained. His right arm was missing, taken clean off below the shoulder. Jack saw an electron bayonet glowing white from the tip of a pulse rifle on the black surface of the asteroid, and attached to that pulse rifle was Torent’s hand, finger still on the trigger. The rest of the arm was missing, vaporized by a Chit plasma spear.

  The shockwave hit as the Kraken exploded, sending Jack and the squad sprawling forward. The ground lurched as the asteroid shook with the force of the explosion. Cracks appeared across the asteroid, which had already been weakened by the Kraken’s crash landing and then the heavy weapons fire. The fractures that raced across the asteroid’s thin crust erupted with steam as the icy interior boiled.

  “Move, move, move,” Jack shouted, urging the Marines forward. The landing craft was only a few hundred meters away, but between them lay a minefield of gaseous eruptions.

  Jack and Osho caught up with Torent, Terry, and Bubble. Jack grabbed Terry’s arm and pulled him along. Osho went to the other side of the chain and pulled Bubble along, all of them pulling Torent across the erupting asteroid.

  The ramp was down. Lights all around the landing craft showed the finish line and safety. It urged them to hurry. The five reached the ramp, gas jets erupting all around. Jack pushed the surviving members of 6th squad up the ramp one by one. With Osho safely on the ramp, he climbed up himself.

  “All aboard, pilot. Get us out of here.” Jack watched the asteroid disintegrate into a thousand house-sized boulders. Somewhere amongst that debris were the remains of the Chitin Kraken and its crew. Somewhere out there was Torent’s right arm. And somewhere amongst that rock and ice was the body of the Marine they all knew as Gas, 6th squad’s latest casualty in the war against the Chitins.

  5

  A gurney drone was waiting on the flight deck for 6th squad to return. Jack and the pilot raced through the post-flight checks and watched through the cockpit window as Torent was taken to the med bay. His arm severed just above the elbow, the meat suit was melted and hung in long globular strands.

  The moment the pilot dismissed Jack, he was up and out of his seat. He ran full tilt toward the med bay. With only a few turns left, Jack caught up with Torent and the gurney drone. He came alongside his squad leader, his squad-mate, and his friend.

  “Sam?” Torent was still wearing his meat suit, the helmet preventing Jack from checking Torent’s state. “Sam?” Jack called again.

  The gurney pushed through the double-doors to the med bay. A nurse came and pulled Jack to the side as a doctor and a drone surgeon began treating Torent.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Jack asked, straining to look around the large drone surgeon and doctor as they pulled the meat suit away from Torent’s limp body.

  The doors burst open again and Jack turned to see who had entered. He was surprised to see Commander Griff march in and dismiss the nurse.

  Jack turned to see who had entered. He was surprised to see the company commander standing there. Jack saluted and snapped to attention.

  “Let the med team do their work, Marine.”

  “Sir, yes, sir. Like we did ours.” Jack looked Griff in the eye. “Sixth squad was down to half-strength, Commander. Why did you send an under-strength squad against an unknown enemy force?”

  Looking into Griff’s cold, grey eyes, Jack suddenly felt a chill. Everyone knew about Commander Griff. He had been one of the best commanders and was surely due for a promotion to major and given charge of a battalion. But Jack had spoken. He would have to hear Griff’s reply.

  “You think you are the only Marine to do any fighting, Forge?” Griff’s eyes burrowed in to Jack’s. “We’ve got a carrier group working their way through the asteroid belt, clearing out Chit garrisons one rock at a time. Three battalions fighting tooth and nail. You think you are the only squad in this war? You think you are the only squad taking casualties?”

  “Sir, no, sir.”

  “I don’t want to see you Marines beaten and busted, but I’m a commander and it’s my duty to send men like you to the fight. I understand you are quite the field operator, Forge. Battle of Training Moon. That stunt with the Leviathan. You are a good Marine, Forge. I wish I had a hundred like you.”

  “Sir, I wish I wasn’t so good. Maybe if I failed at being a Marine, the fleet would kick my ass back to the university.”

  “But you are good, that’s why you are still alive. I’ve been watching your fight on the meat suit data steam back in the Marine operation center and you are the reason he is alive too.” Griff pointed at Torent. The surgeon was cutting Torent’s arm to create a clean cut of flesh and bone.

  Jack watched the surgeon drone attach a clamp around Torent’s upper arm, a ring of black composite that pulled tight and attached itself firmly. The doctor checked around the many working arms of the surgeon drone as a black liquid was sprayed over the still bleeding stump.

  “Sixth squad needs a new squad leader, at least until Torent is all fixed up,” Griff said. “You like telling your commanding officers what to do, Forge. Would you like to suggest someone?”

  “Everyone likes Osho. Bubble is a bit quiet. Terry is a loudmouth and gets angry, but he does have natural authority.” Jack watched the drone attach an endcap over Torent’s black, sticky stump and attach it to the black composite collar.

  “What about you?”

  “Squad leader?” Jack let out a humorless laugh. “I never even wanted to be here. I never wanted any of this. All I want is to live in peace.”

  “Jack,” Griff said calmly, “every Marine in this fleet wants peace. You think I want to see men chewed up like this?”

  “Sir, no, sir.”

  “Forge, you are insubordinate at best, mutinous at worst, but you have a good head for strategy. You are thoughtful, and you know the people in your squad, you know what makes them tick. And they like you, even the ones who don’t like you. You got the duty, Jack. You are squad leader now. You copy, Marine?”

  The realization of what was happening came over Jack slowly. And then it hit him. Squad leader. It seemed such a responsibility. He snapped to attention. “Sir, yes, sir. I won’t let you down, sir.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Worry about your squad. Make sure you don’t let them down.”

  As Griff marched away, Jack watched Torent be moved into one of the compartments. The nurse let Jack follow the gurney. Torent was still in a medically-induced sleep. His arm looked neat, the black composite endcap covering the short stump. A burn across his neck and chest where the plasma spear had cooked his flesh was cover with a white ointment that smelled like rancid fat.

  “I hope you don’t think you are getting out of sixth squad this easy,” Jack said. He remembered the first time he’d met Torent. He had come to the military instead of serving time in a prison for theft. Torent had given so much to the Marines, he was a good leader and no longer a thief. The kravin Chits had stolen his arm. Jack was sure Torent would want to pay
them back for that.

  Stepping out of the compartment, Jack noticed the Marine guard outside the closed door of Sarah Reyes’s compartment. He’d only been gone for a few hours, but it seemed like a lifetime since he’d last tried to see her. He took a few faltering steps toward the guards. One of the guards, a fat Marine from Boa Company, took a step forward and with a slight shake of his head, told Jack that Reyes was still in a coma, and he would not be letting Jack see her. She was still under close guard. It seemed Agent Visser was doing everything she could to make sure she was the first person to talk to Reyes when she finally regained consciousness.

  The nurse passed Jack in the corridor, she gave him a half-smile. “Your friend will be fine. I’ve seen a lot worse, Marine.” She put a comforting arm on Jack’s arm.

  “And what about her down at the end?” Jack asked. “I worked with her in maintenance.”

  The nurse looked along the corridor. “I’ve only been in there once. They are keeping her isolated for some reason. But I heard the doctor say she could wake up at any moment, or she might not wake up at all. To be honest, we don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

  Jack thanked the nurse and stared at the far door, closed to him and everyone except Fleet Intelligence.

  The med bay was becoming too familiar. Two of his closest friends lay here unconscious. Jack feared that more of his friends from 6th squad would be sent here before this war was over. Then Jack checked himself. No, 6th squad were not his friends, not anymore. Now that he was squad leader, they were no longer his friends. They were his responsibility.

  6

  The Marine deck showed just how undermanned Cobra Company really was. The areas marked out in the floor for each squad were occupied only up to 6th squad. The areas marked out for squads seven through to twelve were empty.

  Squads one through five were at full strength, but six was undermanned. Jack stood at the side of his squad. They were a pitiful sight, three Marines and a squad leader. It was the smallest squad in the entire Scorpio Battalion, possibly the smallest squad in the entire Fleet Marine Corps.

  They were small in number, but they were highly experienced, battle-hardened, and skilled. They had experienced the most brutal training of any squad in the fleet, having fought off a Chitin attack during their initial training. They had fought together and brought down one of the enemy’s most powerful vessels. They may have only been in a few skirmishes and never in a full-blown battle, but they were able and they were tough. Jack was proud to be their squad leader.

  The five squad leaders walked over to Jack. They had not had much time to get to know 6th squad and now they were on their second squad leader. The tall leader of 1st squad, Joe Navidi, led the way.

  Navidi had transferred to the Fleet Marines from the Eros Police Service. He had at first been refused the transfer because the police service was so understaffed. Navidi had finally won his transfer on his seventh appeal. He had his arms behind his back and walked confidently.

  Navidi was flanked by Ben Horan of 2nd squad and Corry Allen of 3rd squad. Horan and Allen had come through training together, and they had been a formidable team. They had been through the same training camp as Jack and the rest of 6th squad. Their time in training had become legend on the training moon, and throughout the fleet. It was rumored they had been tested out for squad leader by the training commander, Lieutenant Crippin, with a bare-knuckle fight. The fight had gone on for over an hour, with both Horan and Allen losing liters of blood, sweat, and snot before Crippin called a draw and named them joint squad leaders, the first and only time the fleet had ever allowed it. Jack had heard that the two had met secretly to finish the fight and fought a full night before one finally triumphed. Neither Marine ever said who had won.

  Behind Navidi came Taku Folau of 4th squad and the leader of 5th squad, Stuart Laidlaw. Folau was newly appointed, becoming squad leader after the previous leader had been discharged for allowed a barbecue in the 4th squad muster area. The entire squad had been poisoned by undercooked meat. The former squad leader was awaiting sentencing, and everyone expected a flogging and a return to a training camp would be likely. Folau was a veteran of a few skirmishes and had killed a Chitin singlehanded in the corridors of the Scorpio when they had boarded the ship for the first time.

  Laidlaw had never seen combat. He was a university graduate with a degree in psychology and had volunteered for service the day after graduating. He was clever, fit, and funny. Jack was worried that a taste of combat would either knock the humor out of him or make him so darkly funny that he’d be reassigned to fleet entertainments. He held his pulse rifle lightly. Jack hoped he would be able to use it when the time came.

  Navidi offered his hand. “Well done on your promotion, Jack.” Navidi’s voice was deep and Jack felt it resonate in his chest.

  Jack shook hands and went to the next. Horan and Allen both gave Jack a surprisingly light handshake, given their reputation as bareknuckle boxers. Folau’s handshake was firm, his voice and demeanor serious.

  Lastly came Laidlaw. “You are kraved now,” he said, smiling broadly. He spoke in such a way that he could read a pulse rifle specification sheet and make it sound funny. He shook Jack’s hand warmly.

  Jack felt himself take a fraction of a step back toward his squad, his small three-man squad. He stopped himself and joined in with the squad leaders’ banter. They were a group to themselves. Not able to spend time together regularly but bound by the same responsibility. They chatted lightly about anything except the Fleet Marines.

  “We play poker,” Laidlaw said to Jack. “Thursday nights in the main mess hall, under the Scorpio emblem. If you are not on an operation, come and take all Allen’s credits.”

  “Just watch out for the king in his lap,” Allen added, shoving Laidlaw hard.

  “Knock it off, guys,” Laidlaw said. “You’ll make Jacky here think we’re all as bad at cards as Folau is at having fun.”

  “I can have fun,” Folau said humorlessly.

  Commander Griff walked onto the Marine deck. Navidi called the company to attention. The six squad leaders snapped to attention in their huddle.

  “At ease, Marines. Positions, Squad Leaders.”

  Jack stepped back and took his position beside 6th squad. The others marched to their positions beside their squads.

  The deck fell silent, with only the sound of Griff’s boots echoing off the deck plates. Jack could sense the unease rippling through the squads. Why were they being held here? What were they waiting for? There was only one reason the entire company was being assembled. Orders. Action. Jack felt himself grow nervous for a moment. He had only just survived one deployment. How soon before he would have to face those Chitins again?

  “Attention,” Commander Griff said, clear and cold. Cobra Company came to attention as a single Marine. Then the holoimage of Major Cruz appeared on the holostage embedded. The battalion major was seated behind a desk. He leaned back in his chair and casually returned Griff’s salute. When Cruz spoke, it was so quiet that Jack had to strain to hear.

  “Cobra Company. Starting today, you are to begin a series of training simulations of attacks on a fixed Chitin position, including landing, rapid deployment, and assault.”

  Major Cruz’s image stared out at Cobra Company with Commander Griff standing alongside him. “Sorry we haven’t got a full company for you, Commander,” Cruz said to Griff. “A bit short on numbers. Still, I’m sure you’ll get the best out of them.”

  The holoimage of Cruz was distracted. He turned his gaze back to the assembled company. “You have your orders, Commander. Carry on.”

  Cruz’s image flickered away without another word. As soon as his image was gone, Griff turned to face Cobra Company.

  “At ease, Marines. Training begins now. Squad Leaders, I want you in the simulations. Don’t let your squads do all the work, but don’t go trying to take all the glory for yourself either. Report to me at the end of each watch with stats on your performance.
That’s three times a day, and I want improved stats every time. Do you get me, Squad Leaders?”

  Jack called out instinctively and he heard the others shouting out too. “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Marines, there will be a scoreboard. Best squad at the end of day gets an evening in VR on an entertainment program of your choice. Worst squad gets a simulation rerun on the day’s training. Do you get me, Marines?”

  Cobra Company shouted out, five squads of a dozen each, and 6th squad with its three Marines and squad leader. The reply was bold and ear-crushing.

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Good. Get it done. Over to you, Squad Leaders.” Griff turned and walked toward the exit.

  “Commander departing,” Navidi called out. “Company, attention.”

  Cobra Company stamped in unison as they came to attention. Jack hoped they could work this well together when the plasma spears were fizzing around their ears. Time would tell, and if they were training and preparing for an assault on a fixed Chitin position, that time was coming soon.

  7

  The environment was unfamiliar to Jack. It was a rocky desert with low jagged hills. The Chit fixed position was situated only five hundred meters away and five meters below the surface. Access to the underground position was through a natural cave mouth. Jack called in all data from the simulated orbital craft and other ground units.

  Chit sentries had been positioned between the many hills, while an unknown number of Chit soldiers were in the underground bunker. With only one entry point, there was only one option: a difficult and deadly frontal assault. It would be murder for a company, and Jack had only a three-man squad. Jack guessed he would do well not to bring in the lowest score of the session.

 

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