Honor from Ashes (Honor and Duty Book 3)

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Honor from Ashes (Honor and Duty Book 3) Page 1

by Amanda S Green




  HONOR FROM ASHES

  Honor and Duty

  Book 3

  Sam Schall

  Hunter’s Moon Press

  2016

  OTHER TITLES

  Written as Amanda S. Green

  Nocturnal Origins

  Nocturnal Serenade

  Nocturnal Haunts

  Nocturnal Interlude

  Nocturnal Challenge

  Written as Ellie Ferguson

  Hunted

  Hunter’s Duty

  Hunter’s Home

  Slay Bells Ring

  Wedding Bell Blues

  Written as Sam Schall

  Vengeance from Ashes

  Duty from Ashes

  HONOR FROM ASHES

  Honor and duty above all.

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Amanda S. Green.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

  Hunter’s Moon Press

  Cover design by Sarah A. Hoyt

  Cover art elements: The Terrible Alien UFO Destroyer comes. The Combat Begins. Realistic Style. Scene Copyright © NextMars | Dollar Photo Club

  AISN: B01AS2T8O8

  If you enjoyed this novel, please visit Nocturnal-Lives.com for more titles.

  DEDICATION

  To Mom

  GROUNDED

  CHAPTER ONE

  “PLEASE HAVE A SEAT, Colonel. The others will join you shortly.”

  Before she could reply, the young lieutenant stepped back and the door slid shut. For a moment, Lt. Colonel Ashlyn Shaw stared at the door, her concern growing. It went beyond this unscheduled – and so far unexplained – summons to meet with General Helen Okafor, Commandant of the Fuerconese Marine Corps. It even went beyond the very bad memories she had of this particular conference room. Something was wrong, very wrong. She could feel it all the way down to her bones. She simply didn’t know what it might be.

  A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked around. Memories washed over her. Two and a half years ago, she had stood in this very same conference room, still unaware that her life was about to be turned into a living Hell. That day, the JAG officer in charge of prosecuting her and the surviving members of her squad had offered her a deal. If she pled guilty to all charges, he would recommend a sentence of twenty-five years – without parole – and would make sure her people served only ten years He assured her it was much better than she would get if she were found guilty of the charges that had been leveled against her. She had refused. How could she plead guilty, how could she ask her people to plead guilty, when they had done nothing wrong? Foolishly, she had believed her beloved Corps would not turn its back on her and her squad mates.

  That decision had cost all of them two years in the military penal colony on Tarsus. Two long years when she believed the Corps, her family and her homeworld had turned their backs on her. She knew better now but the hurt and the distrust sometimes returned. She had no doubt it would continue until those responsible for framing her and her squad, not to mention being responsible for the deaths of their squadmates, were tried and found guilty.

  But she had to put that behind her.

  She had put it behind her.

  Breathing deeply, she turned and made her way to the table in the center of the room. The only other person present watched her, his expression betraying a mixture of concern and curiosity. Seeing it, she guessed he had more idea why they had been sent for than did she. Unfortunately, that did nothing to reassure her. Experience had taught her bad things came all too often from such meetings.

  “Stand easy, Ash,” Admiral Richard Collins said before she could brace to attention. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She sat opposite him and smiled in appreciation as he poured her a mug of coffee the carafe someone had left.

  “By any chance do you know what this is all about?”

  “That’s a negative, sir. I was hoping you could tell me.”

  She heard the uncertainty in her voice and silently cursed it. No, she cursed the reason for it. The nightmares that had plagued her might be coming with less frequency but they still lurked just beneath the surface of her self-control. They mingled with the ever-present doubt that the last few months had been nothing but a ruse and she would soon find herself back on Tarsus, once again a military prisoner. Intellectually, she knew that to be false but it was hard to put the betrayals of the past behind her.

  “I guess we have to wait and see then.”

  Ashlyn nodded again and produced her datapad. She might have to wait to find out why she’d been sent for but that didn’t mean she couldn’t work. There were always reports to review or write and assignments to be made. Even though the Devil Dogs had been groundside for almost a month, it was her job to keep them at combat readiness. Fuercon was at war and that meant they could be shipped out any time or, worse, the capital could once again come under attack.

  The door once again slid open. Instantly, Ashlyn and Collins slid their chairs away from the table and stood. As they braced to attention, two others entered. They remained silent as they move to the table. Then, as the door closed and a low hum filled the room, signaling full security block had been put in place, Linden Klingsbury, Secretary of Defense, motioned for everyone to be seated.

  “Thank you both for coming.” His deep voice might not betray his feelings but his eyes did. Ashlyn saw the worry and something else, anger maybe, reflected in them. “I apologize for not only the early hour but also for the lack of notice in getting you here. I assure you, it was necessary. The last thing General Okafor and I want is for certain parties to start asking questions we aren’t ready to answer.”

  He broke off as a soft tone signaled someone at the door. A moment after the admiral lowered the security screen, the door slid open. The lieutenant who had shown Ash in earlier stepped inside, followed by an ensign carrying a tray with coffee and several covered dishes on it. They quickly served coffee to the newcomers and then topped off Ash’s and Collins’ mugs. After making sure nothing else was needed, they left the room. Klingsbury reactivated the security screen even as he motioned for everyone to help themselves.

  “Admiral, Colonel, what you are about to see and hear cannot leave this room. The only reason you are being read in right now is because this information came to us through your actions as well as the actions of your people. Your last mission gave us a treasure trove of information we are still examining. To be honest, even that isn’t reason enough to read you in. However, both of you have started asking questions that show you have started putting two and two together. These questions, while valid, are best left unasked for the moment. It is my hope you will understand before you leave here.”

  Concern once again growing, Ashlyn reached for her mug. As she did, she thought back to that last mission. They had been lucky, probably luckier than they had any right to expect. For whatever reason, the enemy had moved out of the Cassius System, leaving only a minimal defensive presence. Whether they had been overconfident or there had been another motive, she didn’t know and, frankly, she didn’t care. That decision had meant First Fleet and the Devil Dogs had been able to liberate the system and rescue the POWs with minimal losses.

  None of which explained what the admiral meant.

  “Before we get started, I need you to confirm, on record, that none of what you are about to see or hear will leave this room without permission from either myself or General Okafor,”
Klingsbury continued.

  For a moment, neither Collins nor Ashlyn spoke. “A point of clarification, sir,” Collins said. “Does this apply to our XOs?”

  “It does.”

  Ash frowned. She did not like keeping her XO in the dark, no matter what the information might be. That was especially true if the information could help the Devil Dogs do their duty. “General, begging your pardon, but that could put our people at a serious disadvantage.”

  “Ash, I understand your concerns,” General Helen Okafor said. “All we are asking is you don’t jump to conclusions until you have seen what we have to show you. If, after you have, you still want to discuss reading in your XOs, we will consider it.”

  Knowing she could ask for nothing more, Ash nodded. “Then, with that proviso, I agree.”

  “As do I,” Collins said.

  “Thank you, both of you.” Klingsbury punched a code into the console in front of him and the holo display over the table came to life. The Fuerconese flag filled the display. “Admiral Collins, Colonel Shaw, the two of you, along with the men and women under your commands, have served Fuercon and its allies well. This information will help bring an end to the war, hopefully sooner rather than later. But it is not something we can move on just yet. Not without further confirmation of what it appears to represent. However, I believe that once you see this, you will understand its importance and the need for secrecy until we are ready to act.

  “Help yourselves to food and then we’ll get started. There is a lot for you to see and, unless I miss my guess, there will be even more to discuss,” Okafor said.

  Ash cast a quick glance at Collins who shrugged. Like it or not, she would just have to wait to find out why she’d been summoned to this off-the-books meeting with the Commandant of the Fuerconese Marine Corps and Secretary of Defense.

  * * *

  “Sir, we just entered the outer limits of system detection range,” Tactical reported. His dark eyes burned with anticipation as he glanced at his commanding officer before quickly returning his attention to his board.

  “Status?”

  “No challenge yet, Commander,” Comms answered.

  “Order the squadron to maintain formation. Start squawking our ID. Don’t give them any reason to doubt who we are – yet.”

  At the rear of the bridge, he sat a bit straighter in his command chair. A smile played at the corners of his mouth and his pale eyes mirrored the almost feral delight of his tactical officer as they neared their target. He watched as his senior bridge crew checked their readings, occasionally comming CIC to confirm a reading. With each moment that passed, they were closer to their goal. His expression reflected his determination to successfully complete their mission or die trying.

  Seconds turned into minutes before Comms motioned for quiet. “Incoming message, Commander. We are being challenged.”

  “Sensor readings?” He stood and moved closer to the holo display of the Cassian System.

  “They’ve hit us with passive scans. Wouldn’t have picked them up if we hadn’t been looking for them, sir.” The dark haired man kept his head down and his fingers flew across his board as he swiped from one display to another. “No indication that they suspect anything yet. Defense platforms still neutral.”

  “Sir, they just commed that if we don’t respond, they will bring defenses to bear on us,” Comms reported.

  “Put on your best Fuerconese accent, Comms, and tell them we are having issue with our short range comms. Then squawk the ID again. Let’s see how far they let us come before they realize the trap has been sprung.”

  “Aye, Commander.” He glanced over his shoulder, his expression thoughtful. “Sir, you might want to step back so you don’t show on my pickup.”

  He nodded and moved back to the command chair. As he did, he quickly scanned the bridge, as if making sure nothing that would betray them. Then, when Comms once again signaled for silence, only the normal sounds of a merchant ship making an approach to a friendly port could be heard.

  “Approach Control, this is the merchant ship Dreki, registered out of Halstrom’s Landing. I repeat, the merchant ship Dreki, carrying a Halstrom’s Landing registration. We were ambushed by privateers in the Radke System and have experienced extensive drive damage. Short range comms have been compromised. Request permission to dock and make repairs.”

  “Dreki, this is System Approach Control. We are unable to confirm ship’s status. Resend full registration and crewing as well as damage control reports. I say again, verify ship’s registration, crewing and current status.”

  Frustration flashed across the commander’s face and was gone. As he nodded to Comms to do as instructed, the fingers of his right hand entered a series of commands into the console at his right knee.

  “CIC reports defense platforms powering up, Commander.”

  “Tight beam to the squadron. Prepare to break formation and begin the assault.”

  “No.” At the sound of the soft voice, all heads turned to the far end of the bridge.

  “No?” The commander’s tone, as well as his expression, betrayed his anger at being countermanded.

  “No.” A tall, thin man stepped forward. Unlike the others, he did not wear the dark blue uniform of the Callusian Navy. His black trousers and white uniform tunic stood in stark contrast to the others. His expression, however, was just as hard as the man currently trying to stare him down. “Commander Dorescu, I would recommend you continue following the battle plan. If you break formation now, you give the enemy time to respond as well as to send word to their allies that they are under attack.”

  “I will not allow them to bring their defense platforms online.”

  “I am not saying you should. However, it will take time for them to power up their defenses. That is one reason why our respective commanding officers chose this system as a target. They have become complacent and do not maintain the same level of security as others who are allied with them. But that doesn’t mean we can be rash in how we approach them.” He waited until Dorescu gave a curt nod. “Comms, respond that you are doing your best to comply but the damage to our systems slows our response time. Add that you have sent for you captain and are working on getting visual comms back up. Tactical, plot firing sequences on those platforms. Let’s see if we can keep them from committing to action before we are in place.”

  “Do it!” Dorescu snapped. “If this blows up in our faces, you will be the first out of the airlock, Advisor.”

  “It won’t,” He glanced at the holo display, his expression thoughtful. “Comms, signal the squadron to break formation in two minutes. I repeat, break formation in two minutes. Tactical, initiate firing plan ten seconds before formation break.”

  Both looked to their commander for confirmation. Without a word, Dorescu nodded once.

  “Give us a countdown on screen,” the advisor ordered.

  “System Approach Control is issuing their last warning, sir. They don’t sound quite as sure of themselves as they did,” Comms reported at the sixty second mark.

  “They will be a great deal less secure shortly,” Dorescu grinned. “Their defense platforms?”

  “Scanners show they are continuing to power up. Estimate we have two minutes before they are online.”

  “Sir, CIC reports LACs have scrambled and are an intercept course.”

  “Prepare to initiate Attack Plan Deimos.”

  “Attack Plan Deimos, aye, sir.”

  “Commander, order the squadron to break formation. Launch your LACs and take out the orbital defense platforms. Once that is done, focus on planetary defenses.”

  That look of frustration crossed Dorescu’s face again. Then he nodded curtly. “Do it!”

  “Very good, commander.” The man smiled, approval and something else reflected in his eyes as he stepped forward to assume his place next to the command chair. “Your people have done well. I am confident our respective governments will reward you and your crew accordingly.”

&
nbsp; * * *

  “What the hell?”

  Ashlyn blinked as the lights once again came up. Then, realizing she had spoken aloud, she pressed her lips together so she would say nothing else. At least her exclamation had been almost immediately echoed by Collins. A quick glance told her all she needed to know he was as surprised – and stunned – by what they had seen as was she. That should have reassured her but it didn’t. Neither did her hope that it had all been part of an elaborate prank. Unfortunately, she knew neither General Okafor nor Secretary Klingsbury would joke about this.

  That left one very big question unanswered. How had they managed to lay their hands on the video?

  That was the first question she wanted answered. She had no doubt what they had just seen was a real time recording of the enemy’s bridge during the attack on Cassius Prime. While it was the first question needing an answer, it was not the only question. Not by a long shot.

  It was not, however, her question to ask. Not unless and until no one else did. So, instead of speaking up, she activated the virtual keyboard in front of her and entered a series of commands. Almost instantly, the small holo display built in for the convenience of the person sitting there came to life. A moment later, the video they had just watched started streaming. She had to be sure.

  A few moments later, she stopped the feed. As she studied the image, she fought the urge to curse once again. Instead, she drew a deep breath and wondered if this was why she and Collins had been sent for.

  If so, what did it mean?

  “Well?” Klingsbury asked. He leaned back in his chair at the head of the table, his expression calm, his eyes alert.

 

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