“Mass beam firing, sir,” Cronin called out. “We’ve got her. Drive systems are down. Her field is collapsing.”
The mass beam fired again as the Resolute raced past the Fall, now adrift. External lights flickered along her outer hull.
“Low-energy strike from the mass beam, sir,” Cronin reported. “We caught her just above her reactor. Looks like we’ve buckled the casing. Her reactor has lost symmetry. She’s dead in the void.”
“Sergeant Dorik, you will lead the boarding party,” Featherstone said. “Great shooting, Doc,” he added.
Dorik marched off the command deck. “Doc, you are with me. Grab a med-kit and a rifle. Let’s go.”
The flight deck of the Fall was dark with lights blinking on and off almost hypnotically. One flight deck operator was dead, a conduit at his console having erupted following the hit from the mass beam.
“Get that reactor back online,” Bellini was shouting. “Get the troopers ready. I am going to board that cruiser and kill the captain.”
“It’s not a cruiser,” Perov pointed out. “She’s a frigate. It’s the Blue Star Marines.”
“Blue Stars?” Bellini asked. He stopped dead in his tracks. “What are Blue Stars doing guarding a convoy of heavies, unless…”
Perov interrupted. “They are after you, boss. We’ve got Union Marines in the void. They are traversing. They will be on our outer hull in moments.”
Bellini walked across to his command chair and picked up the pulse rifle he kept there. “Everyone, arm yourselves.”
“Don’t leave, boss,” Ramil said. “If you leave the flight deck, there’ll be no one to activate the self-destruct. They’ll take us alive.”
Bellini huffed. “They are not getting my ship. And they better not take any of you alive. Get ready to fight them off.”
“But these are Blue Stars, not just regular Marines,” Perov said. “How can we hope to fight them off?”
“We’re with you,” Ramil said, grabbing his pulse pistol and joining Bellini. The rest of the flight deck crew lined up behind him.
“Me too, boss,” Perov said, standing and drawing his pistol.
“Drive room, this is Bellini. Get my ship up and running.” Bellini took position at the entrance to the flight deck—a long, straight corridor that was easy to defend, and difficult to attack. Bellini took position on one side of the entrance and got ready to fight for his ship.
Dorik and Cronin landed on the hull of the Fall, the other Marines all landing within a few seconds of each other. Dorik activated his electron blade on the end of his pulse pistol and jammed it into the seal around an airlock. The hatch burst open, knocking a Marine off the ship and into space.
The Marine activated his suit’s onboard thruster pack and slowed himself before powering back to the ship.
Dorik dropped in through the outer hatch. He looked around and found the internal hatch controls. There were a number of lines painted on the side of the outer hatch.
“Looks like a score,” Cronin said as he dropped in next to Dorik.
“It’s a count of how many people he’s airlocked, I bet,” Dorik said. “Pirate scum.”
Cronin looked again at the painted lines as the last of the Marines entered the airlock, sealing the hatch behind them. The lines did look like a tally. If Sergeant Dorik was right, every line represented a life lost, blown out into the void.
With the hatch sealed, Dorik thrust his electron blade into the lock for the inner hatch. It popped open.
The corridor inside was dark except for the flickering internal lights.
“Power is intermittent. As long as her reactor is off symmetry, she’ll have no lights and no power.” Dorik stepped into the corridor. “We need to take control of the drive room before she can regain power.” Dorik waved a three-man fire team toward the drive section.
The corridor was suddenly lit up as pulse rounds came pouring in. Two Marines of the first fire team fell. The second team moved up, their pulse rifles laying down a fierce barrage of return fire. They moved forward, low and fast, as a third fire team moved behind, standing tall and firing into the dark where the Faction troopers were hiding.
The Faction pulse fire subsided and Dorik heard footsteps running away.
Cronin ran to the fallen Marines. One had taken a pulse round directly to the faceplate. Although the helmet had taken the blow and the onboard stability field had taken most of the force, dissipating it across the suit, the Marine was still out cold.
Dorik moved to the second. He was already sitting up, clutching his injured shoulder.
“How are they, Doc?” Dorik asked.
“Minor injuries.” Doc gave the sitting Marine a hand up and then connected to the med-pack on the unconscious Marine’s suit, initiating a stim shot. The Marine jerked and scurried back along the deck, his rifle in his hand.
“Hold here,” Dorik said to the two injured soldiers. “First team and fourth team will hold the airlock. Doc, you are with me.”
Dorik moved along the corridor. The sounds of pulse rifle fire and the flicker of pulse rounds told him that the Blue Stars were meeting sporadic resistance from Faction troopers. Dorik would rather take one fire team of Blue Stars than a whole division of Faction troopers into a fight. The Faction troopers were tough and brave, determined and ruthless, but they were undisciplined, unruly, and their command structure was haphazard at best. The troopers followed the man they liked best rather than the man placed in command based on ability and leadership qualities.
The troopers would fall back all the way to the drive room, but then they would stand. When their backs were against the wall, the Faction fought to the last man, every time, no exceptions. It was the only thing that Dorik could have any respect for. But on the whole, Dorik knew these to be criminal, terrorist scum, and the Scorpio System would be a better place if they all just died.
The command deck of the Resolute was silent as the crew watched the feeds from the Marine’s helmet scanners projected onto the holo-stage. The data showed the Marines were approaching the drive room. Once the drive room was taken, the Fall would be under Featherstone’s control. He didn’t need the flight deck to take the ship under tow. But if the power came back on, however briefly, Featherstone guessed the Fall’s captain would destroy the ship rather than let it be taken.
Featherstone watched the assault keenly. It would be a great prize to take this ship, to dig into its database and find out finally where the Faction were constructing their new raiders. There may even be data on the whereabouts of Kitzov. He looked at the life signs of his sergeant, Dorik. They had been together for a long time; he liked and trusted the hard-edged sergeant. Featherstone hated to think he would lose his sergeant, but the chance of taking control of a Faction raider was worth the risk. Any Blue Star leader would send a dozen Marines of the high standard of Sergeant Dorik to their deaths if it meant gaining an advantage over the Faction.
Leadership was not easy. It was often a hateful task. Featherstone did not bear it lightly, but he bore it well.
“New signal coming in,” Jim Hemel said from the pilot’s seat. “Moving in fast from the Sphere. It’s coming from the direction of the mining facility.”
“Contact the facility,” Featherstone said, watching the feeds from the attack on the Fall closely. “Just check that we didn’t leave a heavy behind.”
“Sending communication now,” Knole said.
Featherstone looked over at Knole. The communication officer was tapping away furiously at the controls.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Knole?”
“Sending comms again.” Knole resent the communication, expecting a connection signal. “There is a problem, sir,” Knole said. “There is no connection.”
“Why would that be?” Featherstone said. He walked over to his command chair to check the transmission.
“The communications at the facility are offline, or, they’ve lost power.”
“There’s no way they could’ve lost power. A facili
ty that size has a hundred independent backups.” Featherstone looked down at Knole’s readout.
“Scanning the facility’s location directly,” Knole said. “This can’t be right. I don’t have the coordinates wrong. I’m scanning the right area, sir. It looks like…it’s gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?” Featherstone checked the scans.
“Sir,” Hemel said. “The incoming signal. It’s no Union heavy. Look.”
Featherstone looked up at the holo-stage. The ship moving in was vast, a huge dark oval bristling with kilometer-long rapiers that protruded out from the hull in all directions. The monolith was flanked by ships that Featherstone recognized—several Skarak warships dwarfed by a much larger vessel. The warships were familiar, all identical. Long, bulbous body fronted with a cluster of hundred-meter-long rapiers.
Then the warships’ rapier clusters began to glow blue as they activated their crackle beams. The Skarak were attacking the Union heavies as they attempted to scatter.
“Sergeant Dorik,” Featherstone said, the channel to the Blue Star sergeant opening instantly. “Withdraw your Marines immediately. Back to the Resolute. The Skarak. They are here.”
6
The Skarak warships moved ahead of the much larger mastership and blocked the fleeing heavies. The lumbering freighters scattering from the initial Faction attack now dodged back from the alien warships, but their maneuvers were futile. The Skarak ships struck out with their crackle beams, blue energy flickering in jagged lines across the black of space and connecting with the Union freighters.
Featherstone watched the attack with cold detachment. He needed to get his Marines back aboard before he could do anything. He was not going to abandon the cream of the Blue Star Battalion to the void. He watched as a Union heavy lost all power, its external lights blinking off. The attacking Skarak warship moved on to the next target.
The mastership, a craft bigger than the largest Union carrier, moved with frightening speed for a ship its size, covering the distance to the stricken freighter in moments. A section of the massive ship opened, and the freighter was drawn inside by a wide energy beam.
“They are snatching the freighters,” Knole said. He looked over to Featherstone, his face pale.
“Gather all the data you can, Mr. Knole,” Featherstone said. “We wait for Sergeant Dorik and his team before we move.”
“We have men approaching the Resolute, sir,” Knole said, looking back to his sensor console. “Nearing the airlock.”
“Dorik and his team?” Featherstone said.
Knole looked up. “No, sir. Faction troopers. They are going to board us.”
“Intruder alert,” Featherstone said. He walked to his command chair and took the pulse pistol from the small cabinet in the armrest. “Seal all internal bulkheads. Defend the drive room. Seal off the command deck. Get me Dorik right now.”
Sergeant Dorik was leaping out of the Fall’s airlock and into the void. The blue crackle beams from the Skarak warships slammed into the freighters far to his left. The blue beams were fierce and near blinding even from this great distance. They lit up the huge, dark shape of the Skarak mastership that was looming over everything like a small moon.
“This is Dorik,” he responded to Featherstone. “I can see the Faction troopers. They are at the airlock. Hold them off for as long as you can. I’ll deal with them myself when I get to the Resolute. ETA, three minutes.”
Dorik pushed his suit’s thrusters to max and closed in on the Resolute. He brought up his pulse pistol and steadied his aim using both hands on the weapon. A trooper at the airlock was lit up by the hatch’s lights. Dorik fired. A pulse round appeared to creep across space until it slammed into the trooper. The trooper’s arms spread out with the impact, his weapon lost, tumbling out of his hand and drifting away.
The rest of Dorik’s team opened fire. The troopers at the airlock turned and fired, but it was useless. They were hopelessly out-skilled. Dorik and the Blue Stars were trained for zero-gravity engagements and were deadly in the environment. The troopers were little more than violent thugs.
The troopers, knowing the fight was lost, began to scatter, rushing to get out of the way of the Marines bearing down on them.
“They will try and get back to their ship,” Dorik said. He blinked as a pulse round fizzed past him. “I’ll give a bottle of Amber to the Blue Star Marine that clocks up the most kills.”
Bellini looked over Perov’s shoulder as he tried again to hack the Resolute’s data systems.
“I just can’t get in,” Perov said.
“Why do I keep you on board?” Bellini snarled.
Then Perov saw a minor chink in the Union ship’s data system armor: access to the ship’s manifest. It was not the defensive systems access that Bellini had asked for, but it was something. It might either send the captain into a rage or it might make him think he’d won a victory. Perov glanced at the status of the Fall’s drive. The engineering team was close to getting a workaround and the drive would surely be available soon.
“What’s that?” Bellini said.
“We have access to their crew manifest. Downloading all now. They don’t have a captain, their commanding officer is a Blue Star major. Major Charles Featherstone.”
Bellini scoffed. “Sounds like a typical Union scroat.”
Perov let the images of the Resolute’s crew flicker across the holo-display. Bellini was staring intently. Then one image flashed by and a spark of recognition struck Perov. He stopped the image.
“Why’d you stop on him?” Bellini said. “Found a Union friend? Someone to keep you warm? I always had my doubts about you, Perov.”
“I’ve seen him somewhere before,” Perov said.
Bellini grabbed Perov by the back of the neck and shoved his head forward roughly. “How do you know a Union Blue Star? Have you been talking to the Union?”
“No, boss,” Perov said. “Course not. I’m Faction all day long, boss. But I’ve seen this scroat before.”
Bellini looked at the image.
“Sergeant Will Boyd? Never heard of him.”
The ship’s main power came back online, and lights flickered on across the flight deck. The main holo-stage lit up and showed the Skarak attacks—all focused on the freighters and the Resolute only a few hundred meters away.
“Get us out of here,” Bellini said. “Move, while the Union ship is distracted. We can let the Skarak finish off the convoy. Successful job, I’d say.”
“We’ve got troopers making their way back to the ship,” Ramil said.
“I said move it,” Bellini said, pushing himself off the back of Perov’s chair. He walked over to the command chair. “Get us out of here. Now.”
The Blue Stars closed in on the Resolute, the Faction troopers giving them a wide berth. Pulse rounds flickered between the groups. Dorik hit another trooper and then landed on the hull of the Resolute. He waved his Marines in. The troopers had turned tail and were heading back to their ship.
Dorik sent them on their way with a barrage of pulse rounds. The troopers were out of range and the pulse rounds fizzled out of energy before reaching them.
The drive field of the Fall burst back into life and the Faction ship leapt away, leaving a tumbling group of troopers in her wake.
“All Blues Star Marines are safely back aboard, sir,” Knole said. “The Faction raider has left. We are detecting men in the void.”
Featherstone looked at the holo-image. The few tiny points of light representing the abandoned Faction troopers were only a few hundred meters away. A few kilometers away, the Skarak warships were attacking another freighter. Featherstone knew his duty was to the Union freighters first.
“Combat drones,” the major said, “full load. Put one in the lead warship and try to distract it from that freighter. Send the rest into that mastership. Message all other freighters. Reform convoy and head with all speed to Supra. The planetary defenses will give us cover, if we can get there in time.”
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“Message away,” Knole said.”
“The Skarak are ignoring us, sir,” Hemel said. “Should we move to attack?”
Featherstone looked at the Skarak. The mastership was moving in and gathering up another freighter, drawing the massive heavy into the vast opening in its hull.
The combat drones slammed into the first Skarak warship. The blast sent a shimmer of energy along its hull, the material appearing to ripple from the force. White waves of energy soaked into the hull. The rest of the salvo slammed into the mastership.
“The outer hull of that Skarak mastership,” Knole said, his hands moving over the surveillance console, “I can’t get a fix on it. The blast from the combat drone, I have a visual confirmation but no energy data. It’s like the hull isn’t there, just the explosion.”
The lead warship turned away from the freighter target as another combat drone slammed into it.
“It’s turning away,” Hemel said. “She’s running. Pursuit course, sir?”
“No,” Featherstone said. “They are ignoring us completely.” He watched as a second warship moved up and attacked the freighter with the blue crackle beam.
Dorik entered the command deck followed by Doc Cronin.
“Permission to take my station, sir,” Dorik said. He still had his suit on, his helmet under his arm.
Featherstone looked at Dorik, who appeared no worse for his exertion. “Take your station, Sergeant. You okay, Doc?” he said to Cronin.
Cronin nodded and took his position at the weapons console.
Featherstone nodded his approval and looked back to the attack on the convoy.
The remaining ships of the convoy were moving off. The warships moved in on the trailing freighter—the blue beam lancing forward, disabling all power across the ship.
Featherstone held his ground. The remaining seven ships of the convoy were heading away, the Resolute between them and the Skarak. The Resolute lashed out with high-energy lasers and mass beam, her spitz guns pouring thousands of pulses into the Skarak hull.
Blue Star Marine Boxed Set Page 29