Blue Star Marine Boxed Set

by James David Victor

  He quickly took pictures of all the markings that he could see, then looked around for anything else unusual. There were no raised structures like on a human ship, Union or Faction—no flight consoles, no command chair. All the controls were seemingly embedded in the wall.

  Drifting sideways, captivated by the colors, Boyd captured more images. Some lights were in a block arrangement, others in fine lines, curving and twisting. He reached out and touched the wall. The lights flickered under his fingers.

  Then the image was in his mind. A map of the Scorpio System. Thousands of points of light suddenly burned on his mind. He pulled his hand away, and the image on the wall faded.

  Boyd blinked to clear his eyes of the sudden burst of light. He checked the last images his active scanners had captured—the image of the system was clear. Below him, he saw the opening. He had been sure he had traveled only side to side, keeping the surface of the asteroid at his feet. But now, the Marines of First Squad were looking up at him. He kicked off the wall and activated the micro drone’s drive, sending him toward his squad.

  The opening moved away until it was a mere pinprick of light, then Boyd felt himself burst out of the Skarak ship and crash into the asteroid surface.

  “Krav it all, Boyd.” The voice of Featherstone on his helmet communicator clearly furious. “Get back aboard now. Do you read me?”

  “Sir. Yes, sir. Boyd out.”

  Boyd leapt off the surface of the asteroid and headed back to the Resolute, his squad in formation around him.

  An explosion on the asteroid flashed over Boyd’s helmet, and he looked back to see the Skarak ship collapsing as the mass beam from the Resolute stuck. The ship collapsed in on itself and was buried in the asteroid. Boyd looked up to the Resolute, then down again at the collapsing Skarak warship.

  He felt more alive than he had in weeks. He had seen action, however brief. And he had discovered intel. He reviewed the image he’d captured off the inner hull. It was a map of the system with points highlighted. He zoomed in on one and saw an image of a disabled Union ship. He checked another and another, seeing more disabled Union ships, Faction ships. Every point on the image was a ship. Hundreds of them. It was clear that Skarak were involved with these ships.

  The Skarak were not gone. They were hiding. And Boyd had found them.

  3

  Boyd touched down on the Marine deck and moved into a run. He pulled off his helmet as he went, charging along the corridors directly for the command deck. Featherstone rose from his command chair as Boyd rushed in.

  “I’m going to transfer the data from my suit to the holo-stage,” Boyd said, stepping up to the holo-stage.

  “Let me see you in my office,” Featherstone said.

  Boyd held up a hand as an instruction for Featherstone to wait. He connected the data store to the holo-stage and the image of the system he’d captured from the Skarak ship filled the image. Standing ten meters tall and the same across, it rotated slowly to show hundreds of tiny lights. Boyd knew these were Skarak locations throughout the Scorpio System. He didn’t know how he knew; he just knew.

  “Sergeant Boyd!” Featherstone shouted. “It was not a request. My office. Now.”

  A hush descended over the command deck. Boyd turned his back to the rotating map and saw Featherstone standing in front of his command chair. The command deck operators all avoided Boyd’s eyes as he scanned the deck. Only Noland returned a cheeky look, knowing the major couldn’t see it.

  “Yes, sir.” Boyd walked across the deck toward Featherstone’s office.

  The door closed behind Boyd. He stood in front of Featherstone’s desk. The major walked around slowly. Boyd heard the major’s breath rasping in his nostrils, like a bull snorting before charging. Featherstone sat down, linked his fingers, and placed his hands on his desk. He spoke lightly.

  “Stand before me at attention, Sergeant.”

  Boyd snapped to attention.

  “I realize you have been away from the company for some time so I understand your lack of discipline, but I will not tolerate insubordination. Is that quite clear, Sergeant?”

  “Yes. But that map, and I’m sure it is a map, is important.”

  “You will address me correctly, Sergeant.”

  “Sir,” Boyd added, cutting across the major’s sentence before he had finished.

  “Undercover work is difficult for many reasons. Returning to the structure of the Blue Star Marines is arguably even more difficult. This is why we only choose the very best for admission to the Blue Stars. Don’t make me think we have made a mistake with you.”

  “No, sir.”

  Boyd knew now he’d been disrespectful. He would never have marched on to Captain Poledri’s flight deck on the Odium Fist and dismissed him so casually. It would have meant a beating at the very least. But a dressing down from Featherstone was even more painful. It was humiliating, and he was sorry for having disrespected an officer for whom he had a huge amount of respect. Featherstone was not a desk jockey like many command officers. He was a fighter, and Boyd admired him for it.

  “Sorry, sir.”

  Featherstone sat back in his chair. “You have been back with us for a short time and I think you are having trouble fitting back in. You disobeyed a direct order down on the asteroid to not enter the Skarak ship. It was dangerous and foolish.”

  “I fell inside, sir,” Boyd lied. “I didn’t know there was an entrance. Look at my data. The entrance looked exactly the same as the hull. I fell and then I couldn’t get out. It was strange.”

  Featherstone looked Boyd up and down. Boyd felt the major assessing his honesty.

  “But once inside, I found what looks like a map. It was lucky for us. Now I think we know how to find the Skarak hiding in the system.”

  Featherstone leaned forward and tapped the desktop holo-stage. He transferred Boyd’s data to his desk and displayed the image.

  “It certainly looks like a map,” Featherstone agreed. “It would be really helpful if it was. We don’t know where the Skarak fleet went to after their defeat at the battle of Supra Eight. And with so many potential hiding places across the system, it would take us hundreds of years to find them. This could be an important find.”

  Boyd stepped forward and pointed to a light only a short distance from the Resolute’s current location.

  “We should start here,” Boyd said. “Put the Resolute in high orbit over that asteroid and I’ll take a squad of Blue Stars down to verify it’s a Skarak location.”

  “Attention, Sergeant,” Featherstone said gently, pointing Boyd back to his original standing position a pace or two back from his desk.

  Boyd stepped back and assumed the position of attention.

  “Permission to assemble my squad.”

  “Denied,” Featherstone replied, cutting Boyd off before he had finished his sentence. “You will write up your report on the encounter and how you came by this Skarak data and have it ready for me by the end of watch. Clear?”

  “Report?” Boyd said, anger rising. Was the major serious? Reports, when the enemy was within reach? “I’m not writing a report when we can take the fight to the enemy. The Skarak are not wasting time with reports. They are killing people.”

  “Control yourself, Sergeant, or I will have you detained.” Featherstone reached out and deactivated the holo-image. “Union Tactical Intelligence will have to study the data you recovered, and they will determine what locations are to be investigated.”

  “Tactical intel?” Boyd laughed.

  “Easy, Sergeant.”

  “We are Blue Stars. We don’t need permission to follow a lead. We are independent of their authority. Or have you lost your teeth while I was away?”

  Featherstone slammed his hands on the desk and stood up.

  “That is enough, Sergeant Boyd. I haven’t forgotten what it means to be Blue Star, but I’m starting to think that you have.”

  “Sir,” Boyd said. He felt his heart beat hard as he realized he
had massively overstepped the mark. Major Featherstone was a great officer, and Boyd had no right to argue with him.

  “I remember a young Marine, green and eager to serve,” Featherstone said casually. “You were smartly presented. Top marks across all disciplines. I’d never seen a Marine so eager to join the Blue Stars, and there is not one Marine here who is not committed to our mission. We are a volunteer-only battalion, but we only take the very best. You were among the best.”

  Featherstone relaxed, sat back down, and took a breath. “I know why you joined, Will. Your brother was a great Marine. He never wanted to be a Blue Star. He wanted to be a top regular officer and he was on his way to leading his own company before…”

  Boyd’s head dropped. His brother had inspired him in the early days, when it had just been the two of them. Boyd had never wanted to follow his brother into the Union Marine Corps, however, not until his death. But he had been motivated by the most single-minded determination to join the Marines, make it into the Blue Stars, hunt Faction scum, and find the man who had murdered his brother—the now-leader of the Faction, Kitzov.

  “I know his loss motivated you. You did him proud with your achievements. You made it into the elite Blue Star Battalion. Few do. Don’t let yourself down, or your brother, by forgetting what it means to be a Blue Star.”

  But Boyd had a dark secret that he knew what being a Blue Star meant. It meant finding and bringing to justice the man who killed his brother. Many Marines joined to smash the Faction forces that threatened the Union. Now, in the light of the Skarak threat to the system, they were the shock troops of the fleet, highly trained and deadly at close quarters, ready to take the fight into the face of the alien invader.

  Boyd had another reason to maintain his position in the Blue Stars. There was one other member of the Faction he needed to trace: Enke Thresh. Boyd couldn’t get her out of his thoughts. Only when danger threatened did he forget her face for a moment. But then, when danger came so close it felt as if his last moment had come and his life flashed before his eyes, it paused on the image of her face. Enke Thresh. Faction. Pirate. Enemy. Friend.

  “I must insist, Will,” Featherstone said as he stood and walked around his desk to the door, “that you maintain protocol and conduct yourself like a Blue Star sergeant. I will not enter this incident in your record. I will let the record show that you ‘fell’ into the Skarak ship, no matter how unbelievable that is. But if there is another incident, I will…”

  “Throw the rulebook at me?” Boyd said, interrupting the major with a grin. “Sir.”

  Featherstone scowled then shook his head with exasperation. “Smart ass,” he said. He tapped the door control and the door slid open noiselessly. The command deck officers turned to look. “Dismissed, Sergeant,” Featherstone said with a heavy, commanding tone.

  Boyd saluted smartly, turned, and marched out of the office and off the command deck with a wink to Knole at the communications console.

  He walked casually along the corridor toward the Marine deck. He was still in his environmental suit, and dust from the asteroid was falling to the deck plates, creating work for the sanitation drones that whizzed behind him.

  He stopped at a communications sub-node and stepped inside. A young technician was at the central console in the small room. He was a Blue Star, as everyone aboard the Resolute was, and needed to be ready to take on a dangerous mission, but this young Blue Star did not have combat pips under his Blue Star Marine star. The name tag, Allen, was fresh and clean. It was the same shining blue as all others aboard the ship, but Allen looked at home in the small sub-node on the communications system. He saluted Boyd as he stepped in.

  Boyd realized how he must look to the young, inexperienced Blue Star. He was wearing his environment suit, dusty from his recent action on the asteroid surface. And everyone on the Resolute knew Sergeant Will Boyd, newly returned from an undercover mission in the Faction.

  “Hey,” Boyd said.

  “Sergeant,” Allen replied.

  Boyd stepped up to the console next to the young Marine and began accessing the Resolute’s data files.

  “I’m calibrating the data matrix,” Allen said. “No access permitted, sarge.”

  Boyd looked at the young man. He needed to access the data and find any evidence of the missing Faction ship, the Silence, last seen fleeing toward the north of the ecliptic. It had been the last time he had seen her. The last time he had seen Thresh. If there was any clue to her whereabouts, he wanted to know. One day, he hoped to find her. He had no idea what he would say to her. Perhaps an apology for shooting her in the heart would be a good start.

  “Any access will reset the calibration,” Allen complained. “I would have to restart. I’ve already been here for two whole watches.”

  Boyd looked the younger man in the eye. He knew the Marine was impressed by Boyd, but not intimidated. A true Blue Star.

  “Okay, Marine,” Boyd said, stepping away from the console. “I don’t want to make work for you.”

  Suddenly, a siren sounded. The young Marine was on high alert in an instant. Boyd simply smiled in a relaxed way.

  “All hands. Action stations. A flight of Faction raiders has been detected. The Resolute is in best position to intercept. Weapons crews stand by. Assault teams assemble on the Marine deck. Sergeant Boyd, report to Marine deck, you will lead the assault teams. Featherstone out.”

  The siren dropped a decibel level but continued to sound.

  “You want to continue your calibration or are you ready to get your pulse rifle warmed up?”

  The young Marine looked at the data matrix display. In that moment, it blinked green and reported the calibration was complete. He looked back at Boyd with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

  Boyd dusted a few grains of dust off his helmet. “The nice thing about being a returning hero is I can choose my own squad. The nice thing about being a tech specialist is you can get out of action if you want.” Boyd pointed to the young Marine’s uniform. “You want to get some pips for that Blue Star badge of yours, Allen? It ain’t nothing without the pips, kid.”

  The young Marine saluted.

  “No time for that,” Boyd said. “Suit up and fall in. Marine deck in ninety seconds.”

  Boyd walked toward the hangar deck with the young Allen scurrying off ahead.

  Danger was a drug and Boyd hadn’t yet had enough. The Resolute shook as she took incoming fire. The weapons systems activated, filling the corridors with their hum and whine. The dull bumping of the spitz guns firing was joined with a discordant hum of the high-energy laser activating.

  This was what being a Blue Star was all about. The action. The danger. He walked onto the Marine deck. First Squad was still dusty from their asteroid mission. Second and third were formed up.

  “Stand by, Blue Stars,” Boyd said, pulling on his helmet. In an instant, he was ready for action.

  4

  Captain Bellini stepped off the boarding ramp of his ship, the Fall, onto the primary landing pad at the Faction shipyard in the belt. His second-in-command, Ramil, was beside him.

  The facility controller, Captain Gerard, walked over to greet Bellini and Ramil, a somber expression on his face.

  “Gentlemen,” Gerard said. “Everything is prepared. Are you still intending to proceed?”

  “Yes,” Ramil said steadily.

  Bellini grinned. “Don’t look so serious, Gerry.”

  Gerard maintained his serious tone. He didn’t get to be the controller of the Faction shipyard by being frivolous. He took his work seriously. And this was a serious business. Knucks were a trusted method of selection for Faction captains, but no one had run through the formal procedure since before Kitzov had taken over as leader.

  “Is there anything you need? I will arrange it right away.”

  “No,” Ramil said. “Just provide a location and a starter bell. We’ll take care of the rest.”

  “The location is prepared,” Gerard said.
“It’s the lower observation deck of the main column. Three-sixty-degree views of the belt.”

  “We didn’t come for the views,” Bellini said.

  “It’s for the witnesses,” Gerard said, his voice catching in his throat.

  “We only need a handful of witnesses. Why the observation deck?” Bellini asked.

  “Word got out,” Gerard said. “I’ve been trying to find docking space for ships all day. More are turning up by the hour. I think every Faction captain in the system wants to see Bellini fight for his command in person.”

  Bellini grinned and nodded. “Let them see,” he said. He turned to Ramil, stood square on, fists on his hips. “Until tomorrow, old friend.”

  Ramil held out his hand. Bellini looked down at it but didn’t take it.

  “Until tomorrow,” Ramil said and withdrew his hand.

  “Accommodation and a practice suite are prepared for you,” Gerard said. He transferred directions to Ramil’s wrist-mounted device.

  Ramil nodded in thanks and followed the directions. When he was a few strides ahead, Bellini and Gerard followed, walking off the landing platform to the corridors of the facility.

  “I feel I should tell you that there has been interest beyond witnessing the knucks. Quite a substantial book has developed. A few captains are running books and the odds are heavily in your favor.”

  Bellini nodded. “Put the Fall down as a bet for me to win.”

  “I’m not taking bets,” Gerard said.

  “Then find someone who is.”

  “No one will take that bet. You are expected to win.”

  “Make it happen, Gerry,” Bellini said.

  “I will,” Gerard said. “Now, I can let you get to your accommodation or you are welcome to view the weapons test. The engineers have been working flat out and they are ready to go. I held back the test until you arrived in case you wanted to see it.”