The Star Cross: The Forever War
A Star Cross Novel
(The Star Cross, Book 4)
By
Raymond L. Weil
USA Today Best Selling Author
Books in The Star Cross Series
The Star Cross (Book 1)
The Star Cross: The Dark Invaders (Book 2)
The Star Cross: Galaxy in Peril (Book 3)
The Star Cross: The Forever War (Book 4)
Website: http://raymondlweil.com/
Copyright © June 2017 by Raymond L. Weil
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design by Humblenations.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the author.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
The Star Cross: The Forever War
A Star Cross Novel
Chapter One
Grantz sat at a table in his favorite Kubitz pleasure house, enjoying the entertainment and the food. He was a Marsten Profiteer, bipedal, and slightly taller than a Human. His skin was a light blue color with coarse white hair on his head. Grantz’s face, while humanoid, had larger-than-normal eyes.
He also had a signed contract with the Humans from Newton to act on their behalf.
Since entering that agreement, Grantz had become quite wealthy. Because of that, he was meeting some new associates who had offered him a partnership in a new pleasure house they were building. The deal was very lucrative and would make Grantz even richer. He liked the idea of being a part owner as it would mean unlimited access to the entertainment, the food, and the women.
Reaching forward, he picked up a drink the server had just placed before him on the table beside his appetizer of Jalot eggs, a rare delicacy from a distant Enlightened World. Taking a long drink, he felt the burning liquid go down his throat to be replaced by a pleasant warm buzz in his head.
Leaning back, he looked toward the stage, where several young scantily clad women provided entertainment. One seemed to be completely Human and the other nearly so. The music was loud and the room full of patrons, some enjoying their meals and drinks, and others waiting for their pleasure appointments, reserved for the upper levels of all the pleasure houses. Grantz had one scheduled for later with a humanoid woman he had been seeing on and off over the last three months. Her skills at lovemaking were the best he had encountered in all the pleasure houses he patronized.
Four months had passed since Fleet Admiral Kurt Vickers had returned from the big Vorn battle in the Lakiam home system. Rumors flew that the mythical Glaymons had been involved and had even formed an alliance with the Lakiams and also the Humans from Newton. Grantz knew this was more than just a rumor as he had seen Glaymon disk ships at Newton. Other than that, he knew little, as Fleet Admiral Vickers wouldn’t talk about the Glaymons to anyone, though more rumors at the Newton embassy here on Kubitz spoke of major work being done in all the shipyards orbiting the planet. Grantz had tried to learn more while he was at Newton, but that had come to an abrupt end.
Once Fleet Admiral Vickers landed on Newton, he had returned Grantz to Kubitz on the next available ship. Grantz had failed in several attempts afterward to sneak himself on board a Newton-bound vessel to see for himself what was going on there. He had even tried to coax some information from Ambassador Tenner at the embassy, but he had been tight-lipped and told Grantz that he could ask Kurt the next time he came to Kubitz. A few of the Marines at the embassy compound had dropped a few hints on what was going on, but that only tantalized Grantz’s interest.
“Profiteer Grantz?” a man with a rough voice asked.
Looking up from his drink, Grantz saw one of the two people he was supposed to meet. This one was a Profiteer.
“Yes,” Grantz replied, eager to discuss the new pleasure house.
The man nodded and then pulled a hidden pistol from the inside of his jacket and, with a sneer, said, “High Profiteer Creed says hello.” The man pulled the trigger, the first round knocking Grantz from his chair and to the floor. The Profiteer fired another round into Grantz’s chest and then turned and bolted for the door.
-
Ambassador Marvin Tenner sat in his office as a loud explosion went off nearby, and then the embassy building shook. Alarms rang out, followed by the sound of people running down the corridors, yelling to one another.
His office door suddenly flew open, and Captain Briar charged in. “We’re under attack. The main gate’s been breached! We must get you to the underground section of the embassy, where you’ll be safe.”
Tenner stood. From his window, which overlooked the compound, he heard gunfire. The two guard towers outside, equipped with M240K machine guns, began firing nonstop. “Who’s attacking us?” As long as he had been here, no serious threat had been made on the embassy. The building shook again from a second powerful explosion, and the lights flickered. Tenner smelled smoke—the embassy was on fire. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
-
“We don’t know,” Briar replied as two Marines dressed in battle armor and carrying assault rifles entered the room, awaiting orders. “Go with Corporal Binger and Private Morales. They’ll get you to safety.” Briar turned and hurried out the door. He needed to get this battle under control and figure out just who was attacking the compound.
-
“Come with me, Ambassador,” said Corporal Binger, gesturing toward the open doorway.
Taking a deep breath, Tenner nodded and headed for the door. He had just stepped into the corridor when a massive blast erupted in his office, sending fire and debris out the door and slamming him into the wall. Marvin fell to the floor and lay there, gasping for breath. Looking to his side, he saw Private Morales, lying beside him with a look of shock on his face. His right arm was missing at the elbow. His eyes had that pale staring look of someone who wouldn’t be getting back up.
“Ambassador!” called out Corporal Binger as he rushed over and checked on Private Morales, then turned toward Tenner. “Are you okay?”
With a grimace, Marvin forced himself to stand. “I’m fine, just a little shaken up.” His body felt like it had been run over by a truck. He thought he might have one or two broken ribs from the pain in his chest.
“Let’s get out of here.”
As they moved along the corridor, Marvin was convinced he was the primary target of this attack. The destruction of his office proved that. If the explosion had occurred a few seconds earlier, he would have died. “Get me to the Communications Center. We need to contact the Sydney and have Captain Danforth send a message to Newton.”
The Sydney was a light cruiser in orbit above Kubitz. They would get word of this attack as quickly as possible to Governor Spalding as well as F
leet Admiral Vickers.
-
Corporal Binger hesitated. His orders from Captain Briar were very explicit. Take the ambassador to the lower levels where he would be safe. Before Binger could say anything, Tenner headed toward the Communications Center. Taking a deep breath, Binger turned to follow him. Who was he to tell the ambassador what to do? He quickly sent a short message to the Security Center, informing them where the ambassador would be.
-
Captain Briar made it to the small Security Center inside the embassy. The walls were covered with viewscreens, revealing portions of the outside of the embassy. Checking all the screens, he felt sickened to see the number of Marines lying unmoving on the compound grounds. Another large explosion suddenly struck one of the guard towers, sending a fireball high into the sky.
“What do we have?” he demanded. “Who’s attacking us?”
“Unknown,” Lieutenant Jarsky replied. “They hit the main gate with explosives, blowing it open, and then came charging through. They’re armed with short-range missiles and heavy weapons.”
Several more explosions shook the building. The lights flickered, went out, and then came back on.
“We’re on the secondary generators,” reported Private Lan as he checked the console in front of him. “Main power is out.”
More explosions shook the building, threatening to bring it down.
“Our perimeter wall has been penetrated in six areas,” reported Lieutenant Jarsky as he listened to reports coming in over his comm. “More attackers are pouring through the breaches. Our Marines are setting up a defensive perimeter around the embassy.”
On one of the screens, the compound’s six Humvees suddenly appeared. Each was armed with an M240K machine gun. The Humvees came to a quick stop directly in front of the embassy, and all six machine guns started hammering away at the attackers. Briar saw a number of the attackers go down from the intense fire. However, for every one who died, two more poured through the gate.
“Captain, we have fire-suppression systems activating all over the embassy,” reported Private Lan. “Alarms are going off, and we have major fires in some areas. The building’s structure is unstable. It could collapse at any moment.”
“Can we evacuate the compound?” Captain Briar knew they were rapidly running out of options.
Lieutenant Jarsky shook his head. “No, the only vehicles safe enough to evacuate in would be the Humvees. Between our Marine personnel and the embassy staff, we just don’t have the needed capacity.”
“I don’t suppose there’re any signs of Enforcers?”
The Enforcers were from Lylan Six, a high-gravity world, and were the police force for Kubitz.
“No,” replied Jarsky, shaking his head.
Captain Briar frowned. The Enforcers had a habit of not showing up until the fighting was done. Then they would assign fines to the guilty parties, which had to be paid to the Kubitz government or to a Controller. “Zoom in on those attackers. Let’s see if we can identify them.”
On one of the screens, a humanoid figure dressed in dark gray battle armor fired a large projectile-type weapon at the embassy.
“Damn, that looks like a Dacroni mercenary,” said Lieutenant Jarsky. The Dacroni were the most dangerous of the Profiteers as they hired themselves out to the highest bidder. “He’s firing explosive rounds at the embassy.” Even as Jarsky spoke, the mercenary was cut down by machine-gun rounds from one of the Humvees.
“Someone paid a hell of a lot of credits for this hit,” Captain Briar said as he watched the battle on the screens. He was worried his Marines would be overrun by the hundreds of attackers in the compound. Some were in plain sight, and others were using the buildings and vehicles for protection from the Marines’ defensive fire.
On one of the viewscreens, a Humvee suddenly erupted in flames and then blew apart, sending flaming debris across the compound.
“That was a damn missile,” said Jarsky, his face turning pale.
The embassy shook violently, and the lights went out in the Security Center. After a moment the emergency lighting kicked in, and the consoles and screens powered back up.
“The west wing of the embassy’s gone,” reported Private Lan in shock. “We’re running on batteries now. We’ll lose power completely in another ten minutes.”
Captain Briar made a quick decision. “Order everyone out before they bring the entire embassy down onto our heads. Has Ambassador Tenner made it to the lower levels?” The lower levels should be safe even if the upper floors of the embassy came crashing down.
Lieutenant Jarsky turned toward the captain. “No, sir. He went to the Communications C enter to contact the Sydney.”
Captain Briar felt his heart stop. The Communications Center was located in the west wing of the embassy. “Let’s get outside. The sooner this battle is over, the sooner we can rescue the ambassador.” Briar greatly feared Tenner hadn’t survived the west wing collapsing.
It only took Captain Briar and the other Marines still inside the embassy a few minutes to exit the building. Rushing outside, Briar saw a number of his Marines sprawled on the ground, not moving. Others fired from behind the Humvees and any other cover they could find. The remaining guard tower was firing nonstop at the attackers, who seemed relentless in their determination to destroy the embassy. Staying low, Briar ran to the nearest Humvee, where Sergeant Hunter was directing the defense.
“What’s the status?” Briar asked as he ducked behind the Humvee.
Explosions were going off everywhere, and heavy weapons fire was being exchanged between the attackers and the Marines.
“I’m glad to see you got out of the embassy,” said Hunter, breathless. “The damn Profiteers blew open the front gate with a missile and then charged through. The guards and the front tower took out a number of them, but they kept coming. Heavy missiles are launching at us from somewhere outside the compound. That’s what brought down the west wing. A few of the attackers on the inside are carrying small shoulder-firing missiles as well. I think we’ve taken out most of them. We’ve identified at least two groups. The largest is a Profiteer clan residing here on Kubitz, who hires out to take on the really dirty jobs no one else wants. The other is a clan of Dacroni mercenaries. They’re the ones equipped with the heavier weapons, doing the most damage. The Profiteer clan is being used as cannon fodder. We’ve nearly wiped them out.”
A sudden loud explosion erupted behind them. Turning around, they saw the rest of the embassy erupt in flames and then collapse, showering them with burning debris.
“Another heavy missile,” said Hunter as he stood with his assault rifle, seeking a target. Aiming carefully, he killed one of the attackers near the destroyed gate. The firing in the compound was still heavy but dying down. “It looks as if they’re pulling back.”
Captain Briar nodded. He wasn’t surprised. The embassy was gone, its crumbled remains on fire. He just hoped the people who had taken refuge in the underground levels had survived. However, if Ambassador Tenner had truly gone to the Communications C enter, then the possibility of his survival was very remote.
With a deep sigh, Briar gazed at the burning rubble. As soon as the fire was out, they would search for survivors and bodies. A number of Marines, as well as embassy staff, had lost their lives here.
“Let’s get the rest of the attackers out of the compound. We have some people in that rubble who need rescuing.”
Sergeant Hunter nodded and quickly passed on new orders. Two of the remaining Humvees turned and moved toward the last of the enemy, their machine guns raking across the compound. Occasionally one of the attackers would scream and drop to the ground as machine-gun rounds penetrated Profiteer body armor.
The fighting grew heavy for a few more minutes as the Marines pushed the rest of the attackers through the destroyed gate, killing six or eight more before the enemy vanished from sight. The firing died out, and it became strangely quiet, other than hearing a few Marines call out for medics.
“We must find out who was behind this attack,” said Briar grimly. Tonight would be a sleepless night as he thought about the Marines killed in this brazen attack on the Newton embassy. This should not have happened, even here on Kubitz.
Sergeant Hunter nodded. “We’re on Kubitz. All information is for sale for the right price.”
Briar knew Sergeant Hunter was right. If they were willing to pay enough, someone would have the information about who organized this attack. “Let’s get our wounded treated and see who we have left. We have a lot of work to do to get this mess cleaned up. We should also send a Humvee to the spaceport and use our shuttle there to contact the Sydney.” Captain Briar turned toward the burning and smoking rubble of the embassy. Somewhere beneath that was Ambassador Tenner. With a deep and dejected sigh, Briar knew Tenner could not have survived.
-
In orbit aboard a brand-new battleship, Profiteers watched the embassy attack, courtesy of the live videos sent by the Dacroni mercenary clan involved in the destruction inside the compound.
In the Command Center, High Profiteer Creed gazed in elation at the burning rubble of the Human embassy. It had cost him four times the normal price for his new ship, but he was determined to have a battleship as his flagship. He rubbed the stump of his left arm, where it had been removed below the elbow. When he had time, he would return to Marsten and have a new lower arm and hand regrown. But, for now, he was more interested in revenge.
“The main embassy building has been destroyed,” confirmed Second Profiteer Hurkler. “The Jalon Profiteer Clan is pulling out as well as the Dacroni mercenaries. Not many of the Jalon Clan survived.”
This didn’t concern Creed. He had paid them a fee, and, if they suffered far more casualties than expected, that was their problem, not his. “What about Grantz? Did we get that deceitful worm?”
Hurkler nodded. “We received confirmation a few minutes ago of the hit. Grantz took two bullets to the chest. When our agent left, Grantz was lying, unmoving, in a pool of blood on the floor of the pleasure house.”
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