A whisper next to Boyd caught his ear. Commander Briggs was calling him.
“Rest easy, Commander,” Boyd said. “We’ll get you out of here.”
Briggs whispered. Boyd moved closer.
“Too late. I can feel them.”
“Feel who? The Skarak?” Boyd said.
“Skarak. In my head. They want to make us their soldiers. They can make us flesh drones by animating dead flesh. Simple, lifeless fighters.”
“Yes,” Boyd said. “I’ve seen them.”
“Yes. The weak-minded are easily changed. They have different plans for others among us, plans for the leaders.” She looked over to Sheen at her side. “The captain fought them. They want strong leaders. Most can’t withstand their attempt at control, and it turns the brain into a basic processing unit. We here didn’t succumb, and they experimented on us. They killed some—five or six, I think.”
“They didn’t try and attach their limbs or weapons to you.” Boyd touched Briggs’s hair soothingly.
“No. I was the strongest. They had other plans for me. I am fighting them now. They want me to be under their control. They are trying to make me into their spy, to send me back into the Union, to corrupt the Union from within. I am too strong. I am fighting them. I won’t become a spy for them. Get me out of here. We can fight them.”
Boyd looked into Briggs’s lethargic, pain-filled eyes. Then the sound of a pulse round hummed and Briggs’s head snapped sideways. A spurt of blood arced out of her head and she lolled forward.
Boyd’s mouth fell open in shock. He turned to see Sergeant Dorik with a pulse pistol—Boyd’s pistol—in his hand.
“Why did you do that?” Boyd said, exasperated.
“It was a mercy,” Dorik said. “This is torture for them. I’d expect you to do the same for me.”
Boyd looked back at Briggs. “She had information.”
“Look at her,” Dorik said. “These tubes and cables coming out of her, all leading into that?” He pointed to the sphere on the holo-stage. “She doesn’t know who she is any more. They are in her head.” He tapped his temple with the pistol.
Boyd looked at Briggs and then at Sheen. The cables ran from their heads into the sphere.
Boyd knew he had heard the Skarak inside his head when he had first encountered them. Only his utter commitment to his mission had saved him from the strange feeling he had to turn on those around him. Others in his team had turned against each other and only he had come out alive.
As Boyd looked at the sphere, he could hear the Skarak again, like a memory of a dream. He walked toward the sphere. The strange outer edge seemed almost to not exist in this universe but some other dark realm. The cables and tubes crossed the boundary and were lost in its depths.
Boyd could almost sense other spheres of this kind. He stared into the surface that seemed to fall for thousands of kilometers into an object that was clearly only a few meters in diameter.
“Do you read me, Sergeant Boyd?”
The communication from the Resolute crackling over his helmet communicator and the sound of Major Featherstone’s voice snapped him back to the present as if he had drifted off briefly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Leave the Ultimatum. Tactical intelligence is sending a ship to secure the area and the wreck. Return to the Resolute immediately or I’ll leave you there and let the intel agents deal with you.”
Boyd looked around and saw the last of the Blue Stars exiting the command deck. He looked back at Captain Brendon Sheen one last time. His mouth was chewing the air, his eyes rolling around in his head, and a tear welling up in the corner of one eye.
“Someone’s coming to look after you,” Boyd said, but he knew he was lying. Tactical intelligence would want to know what the Skarak were trying to achieve here. They were likely going to continue the Skarak’s brutal experiment to discover what they could. A look in Sheen’s eye told him whatever remained of the Union captain knew the same. His ordeal was not yet over.
“Boyd. Return. Now.” Featherstone sounded impatient.
Boyd knew he had troubles of his own and he had to face them now. He was in trouble with the major. Again. It was a dangerous position to be in, and danger felt good.
8
When Boyd walked into Featherstone’s office, for the third time in the space of a single watch, the major was sitting behind his desk watching the images from the asteroid surface on his desktop holo-stage.
A Union cruiser was holding position above the cavern entrance that led to the Ultimatum. Thruster flares from a squad of regular Marines could be seen streaming down to the surface. A small shuttle, presumably containing intelligence agents, was departing the cruiser’s main hanger.
Then the image was interrupted by a flicker and the image blinked out.
Featherstone hesitated and then looked up to Boyd.
“I’m guessing intel doesn’t want us seeing any more.”
Boyd came to attention. He wondered how serious the major had been in his threat to have him flogged. He had seen a flogging at Forge Farm during training—a Blue Star trainee who had punched an instructor. A flogging followed within the hour and then the trainee was dismissed from the Blue Stars, released back to the regulars. It had been a hard watch and the trainee had wailed for the first few lashes until he was flogged into silence. Boyd hoped he could bear the flogging well.
Featherstone looked up from his desk.
“You are reckless, Will.”
“Yes, sir,” Boyd responded, holding his position at attention.
“At ease, Sergeant.”
Boyd adopted the position of at-ease, but he was far from relaxed.
“I cannot make threats of punishment and not follow them through, Will. What sort of leader would I be if I did that?”
“Weak, sir.”
“Do you think I’m weak, Will?”
“No, sir. The major is the best Blue Star I’ve ever served with.”
“Flattery will only gain you an extra lick of the lash, Sergeant.”
“Sir.”
Featherstone sat back in his chair. “You were always much more in control than you are now. That is why I sent you undercover. You can keep cool in a crisis. You have self-discipline. That is why you got undercover duties. What’s changed?”
“Sir, may I speak freely?”
Featherstone waved a hand and allowed Boyd to speak his mind.
“Life in the Blue Stars is a little too boring after the thrill of undercover, sir. I think I need the danger.”
Featherstone nodded. “I know. You wouldn’t be the first Blue Star to find it hard to transition back into the service after an undercover operation, and you will not be the last.”
Featherstone leaned forward and tapped his holo-stage. After a few taps, an image appeared. It was First Lieutenant Daniel Boyd. Boyd’s brother.
“He was one of the best in the regulars. I tried to draft him into the Blue Stars more than once, but he was dedicated to the regulars. A brilliant officer.”
Boyd glanced down at the image of his brother. His murder had been the final factor in sending Boyd to the Marines and on into the Blue Stars.
“I know how your brother’s death must be in your thoughts. I know you came to the Blue Stars looking for revenge. Do you think I didn’t know?”
Boyd could not find an answer. Featherstone didn’t force the issue.
“Do you think I would send a Blue Star on a mission if I thought his personal feelings would affect his judgment? I watched you closely before I sent you into the Faction to find Kitzov. The colonel told me you were a bad choice, emotionally involved. I told him you could control yourself. And you did. You got us closer to the Faction leader than any operative before. Your determination to succeed together with a disciplined mind gave us the best chance to capture Kitzov in years. Your mission was a great success.”
“I failed,” Boyd said.
“You got closer than anyone else. We will catch Kitzov.
He will face justice for his actions against the Union and for killing your brother. Your operation helped us get part of the way.”
“He’s probably dead now, sir. Or, like the crew of the Ultimatum down there, turned Skarak.”
Boyd felt his heart sink at the thought of Thresh at the mercy of the Skarak. Had she been turned into a lifeless drone like so many others? Had Skarak limbs and weapons been grafted onto her body? Had she had her brain plugged into a Skarak device to turn her against her own kind?
“If Kitzov is dead, then good riddance. If not, we will find him, and he will swing. And you did your part. You behaved like a true Blue Star. You got close, and you didn’t let any personal feelings get in the way.”
“I could have killed him, sir. I had him in my sights and I wanted to end him myself.”
“But you didn’t, because you were in control of your feelings. I need you to control yourself again. Enough with this risk taking, this insubordination. You are a great Blue Star.” Featherstone’s eyes on him were heavy.
“Yes, sir,” Boyd said. “Discipline will be my watchword from now on.”
“See that it is. You could have a very nasty mark against your record for breaking open arrest and joining the operation on the asteroid, but if you hadn’t, we might not have had a successful outcome.” Featherstone hesitated for a moment. “I was going to recommend you for officer training. A couple of months at the farm, some hard work, and you’d pass out with your Blue Star officer stripe.”
Boyd was lost for words. He had never expected to be selected for officer training. His brother had been a highflier academically as well as physically. He had been a great choice for officer training and had been a great lieutenant. But Boyd did not think he was in the same class.
“Not often stuck for words, are you, Will?” Featherstone laughed. “Given your excellent record and undoubted skill, I will give you one more chance to prove you are in control of yourself. Keep on a straight path, no more stupid risks or insubordination, and I’ll advance your file to the farm for officer training on the next training cycle. You can do it, Will. I know you can.”
Boyd felt his chest swell. “Yes, sir.”
Featherstone cancelled the image of Daniel Boyd and sat back in his chair, dismissing Boyd with a wave.
“Now, report to the Marine deck. I will not let my threat of punishment go forgotten. Sergeant Dorik is standing by to administer six corrective lashes. Then, if you maintain your discipline, I’ll consider the matter closed. Dismissed.”
Boyd turned on his heel and marched out of the major’s office.
The way to the Marine deck was strangely quiet. There was no crew walking the corridors until he reached the end. Doc Cronin was waiting for him, a small leather bundle in his hand.
“I can’t give you anything for the pain until after,” Cronin said.
“I can take it,” Boyd said. He stepped up to the access hatch. It slid open.
The scaffold was standing at the center of the Marine deck. Dorik was waiting, lash in his hand, the tail trailing over the deck. A witness squad of six Blue Star Marines stood in line.
Boyd walked over to the scaffold and stripped out of his suit. He dropped that to the deck, then took off his shirt and casually tossed it to the deck.
Dorik pointed to the grips for Boyd to hold. Boyd placed his hands on the scaffold and the mass generator gripped his wrists and held him in place.
Doc Cronin held the leather bundle to Boyd’s mouth.
Boyd shook his head. He was determined not to cry out. He didn’t need to bite down to ignore to the pain. He could take it.
Cronin insisted. “It’ll stop you biting your tongue off. Doctor’s orders.”
Boyd took the bundle in his mouth and Doc Cronin stepped back.
The hiss of the tail through the air sent Boyd’s hairs standing on end. Then the bite made every muscle tense. He growled at the pain. The second lash struck. His growl grew louder. The third, and the breath was knocked from his lungs. The fourth, and the leather grip fell from his mouth. Five, and his head lolled forward. The deck swam in a haze. The sixth knocked him out briefly and he slipped out of consciousness for a moment, returning to hear Dorik call out to the witness squad that they were dismissed.
Dorik disabled the small mass generators and Boyd slipped to the deck. Immediately, Doc sprayed a pain relief agent over Boyd’s back.
“No hard feelings, Will,” Dorik said, looking down at Boyd. “I couldn’t hold back. The major would just have ordered you take them again.”
Boyd couldn’t speak. Dorik helped him up and handed him his shirt.
“You’ll be fine in a couple days, but it’ll hurt like hell until then. Go and sleep it off,” Doc said.
Boyd walked off the deck. He staggered his way to his bunk, the corridor swimming, but he could feel he was regaining his balance and senses. He crashed onto his bunk. He felt Doc Cronin apply a med-pack to the base of his neck and then Boyd was asleep.
He awoke what seemed like a moment later. A muster alarm was sounding sharply across the ship. Then he heard the major’s voice.
“Approaching Skarak target. Assault team, prepare for combat traverse.”
Boyd jumped off his bunk, his legs strong under him, but still searing pain across his back. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his jacket and ran out.
There was no way he was not going to join the assault. He was as ready as ever for duty. He ran into the locker. Sergeant Dorik was already suited up and checking his pulse rifle.
“Up so soon?” he said with a grin.
“When there’s work to be done, you need a good Blue Star in the lead.”
Boyd pulled on his suit and it fastened in place. He grabbed his helmet and pulse rifle and made his way to the Marine deck. Marines gave him a respectful nod when he walked by. He stood in front of the outer hatch.
As the hatch slid back, the sight that greeted him was a new asteroid with a Union heavy partially embedded in the surface.
Boyd didn’t need a second invitation. He ran to the edge of the deck and leapt out into the void. His thrusters kicked in and sent him across the void to the Union heavy and the Skarak signal inside.
As he raced toward the asteroid, the blue crackle beams leapt up from the surface. A beam flickered a few centimeters past his helmet. He took aim at the origin of the crackle beam and opened fire.
9
Boyd opened fire, and pulse rounds from the assault team slammed into the asteroid’s surface. The Skarak fire dropped as they ran back into cover. Boyd touched down and lay flat on the asteroid’s stark surface, pouring fire onto the retreating Skarak.
The cavern on this asteroid was similar to the previous one, but this time, a group of ships were here in the large asteroid’s hollowed-out interior. Boyd detected several Faction ships, a Union civilian transport, and a massive Union heavy freighter. They were all buried deep. There were almost a hundred weak life signs, and they were all concentrated in one section of the freighter’s interior.
The hull of the heavy was cracked open to the vacuum of space. The Skarak soldiers moved freely in the vacuum, seemingly without need of protective equipment. They moved easily over the asteroid’s glassy rock, clinging to the crystalline surface with their secondary arms and their insect-like feet, firing their Skarak weapons with their long upper arms. The flashing blue crackle beams reflected in their large, emotionless eyes.
The narrow cavern and the small crack in the heavy’s hull gave the Skarak a highly defensible position. The only way to break the defense was with a determined forward assault. Every meter forward would be paid for with the life of a Blue Star Marine. Boyd waved the assault team onward.
“Fire and maneuver. Suppress the Skarak and advance,” Boyd said calmly over his squad’s channel. The Marines advanced in small groups, rushing forward while their comrades laid down a heavy barrage of pulse rifle fire. With a small team having advanced, they stopped and opened fire, taking advantage of the c
over against the sides of the cavern. One Marine reset his suit’s gravity field and clung to the roof. The Blue Stars in the forward position laid down a withering barrage, pulse rounds raking the ground in front of the Skarak soldiers, all rounds finding a target and dropping the defenders. Then the next group rushed forward under the covering fire before they too stopped and gave fire.
Running into the dark cavern and closing in on the breach in the hull of the freighter, Boyd felt the thrill of the action rise in him. He stamped it down and advanced with cold determination. The feelings of excitement were wholly unprofessional. Not Blue Star. He needed to be focused and calm.
The Skarak held their ground, their blue crackle weapons flickering along the cavern lighting up its dark crystalline walls. The medical readings of the entire assault team appeared on Boyd’s enhanced data view. Six Marines were dead from the short approach to the freighter’s hull. Several others were injured, their life signs erratic, heart rates racing as their bodies were racked by the disruptive energy of the Skarak crackle beam.
The remaining Blue Stars closed in on the Skarak, electron bayonets flashing in the dark. The Skarak defending the breach fought to the last. Boyd put down the last defending Skarak with a blast of pulse rifle fire and immediately began organizing his team.
With his team reformed and ready to enter the freighter, Boyd identified the position of Sergeant Dorik. He noticed that Dorik was at the rear of the assault, still outside the cavern on the asteroid surface. He hadn’t fired his pulse rifle. And he was calm. Boyd’s pulse was elevated. Even a seasoned, well-balanced Blue Star Marine experienced some fear and excitement during an assault. All the Blue Stars were brave, but brave did not mean they were without fear. The challenge for a Blue Star Marine during an assault was not to overcome fear but to manage it, and to continue to perform accurately and bravely despite their feelings.
But Dorik’s heart rate was the same as if he were resting easy on his bunk.
“Sergeant Dorik,” Boyd said to his old comrade. “We have made it to the breach. I will proceed and enter the ship. Do you copy?”
Blue Star Marine Boxed Set Page 43