Blue Star Marine Boxed Set

by James David Victor

  Kitzov stepped around the holostage and looked down at Hemel. The pilot was aiming in the opposite direction at the distraction caused by the darting micro drone.

  “You lose, Blue Star,” Kitzov said.

  Hemel turned, his pistol held tight to his chest to bring it around fast.

  The pulse blast knocked Hemel back along the deck. Kitzov watched as Hemel gasped for breath.

  Kitzov stepped over and kicked Hemel’s pistol out of his reach. Then, satisfied that Hemel posed no further threat, he stepped over to the pilot chair. He opened a channel to his squad of troopers.

  “Faction troopers to the command deck. I have the Resolute.”

  Kitzov dropped into the pilot’s chair and studied the controls. The flight console of the Silence was similar, if a little older than this one. The Silence was itself a stolen Union ship, just an older configuration. The Resolute was a huge step up in class. Kitzov deserved no less. He stepped away from the flight console and over to the command chair. Pulse round blasts had partially melted the soft seat covers. Kitzov stepped up onto the plinth and turned to look over the command deck of his new ship.

  The Resolute was his.

  The Faction troopers dashed into the command deck and Kitzov sealed the security doors.

  “We’ll wait a few moments for the Blue Star marines and our friend Will Boyd to plant their bombs, and then go, but not before I vent the ship and blast out any Union personnel still on board.”

  He looked at the image on the holostage, the small points of light indicating the location of Boyd and his assault team. They were nearing the top of the Skarak signal tower.

  “We are not running away, my friends,” Kitzov said to the Faction troopers on the command deck. “We are marching proudly to a new future for the new Faction. A new star system awaits us out there. We will build the society we have always dreamed of. Fair and strong and just. Take your stations.”

  Kitzov slowly lowered himself into the command chair. He sat fully upright and placed his hands on the wide armrests. He took a deep and satisfied breath, the smell of smoldering pulse rounds still lingering in the command deck air.

  “Make ready to leave this Skarak system and on to freedom.”

  13

  Boyd moved to the edge of the Skarak atmosphere and checked his rate of descent. He was about to slam into the atmosphere so fast it would be like hitting liquid rock. He would never survive the impact if he continued with that speed. He slowed his descent with suits thrusters and with his grav field extended out to the Skarak atmosphere. He slowed down to a gentle speed and then felt the resistance of the atmosphere.

  The suits thrusters and grav field stopped him from accelerating and he drifted down to the Skarak signal tower like a leaf on the wind.

  On Boyd’s right was Doc Cronin, a superb medic, and an excellent shipside weapons specialist. In a fight, though, he was among the least able. He was not the worst warrior to ever go into action as a Blue Star marine, but it would be difficult to find a Blue Star with worse stats. His pulse rifle aim could be a little off and he was slow, his top speed sprint barely enough for him to pass the lowest bar on Blue Star trials. But there was not a Blue Star marine anywhere in the service who was more determined and committed than Doc Cronin. He was a legend in a service filled with legends. He was the marine known across the service as ‘Doc’. He hoped it would be enough.

  Boyd gave Doc a hand signal telling him that they should spread out and move in on their target locations. The tower was only a few hundred meters below them. It was deep dark and unlike any tower back on Terra—it didn’t have any windows or landing pads for delivery drones. It was completely sealed apart from the one tiny entrance at ground level. As Boyd dropped past the tower heading to his target site near the base, he could see the tower was so black it looked like a tear in reality to a deep dark other realm. It did not shimmer or shine. There were no reflections in its dark surface. It was like it didn’t exist.

  As Boyd dropped through the thin atmosphere, he slowly started to feel the weight of the combat drone warhead on his back. He hoped Thresh had attached his warheads grav field generator correctly. It felt as if it was getting heavier by the moment. Maybe, he thought, she had decided to kill him too, to sabotage his warhead so he never made it back from his mission.

  As the warhead grew heavier, so the thoughts of her grew and weighed on his mind. He dismissed the thought that she had deliberately set his grav field to fail. He was being unfair to her thinking that. It was not her style. He had no doubt that if she really wanted to kill him, she would do it face to face, not sneakily like a coward. For that, he could respect her, and he would do his best to forgive her past actions as those of someone manipulated, not as someone who simply chose to take life out of bloodlust.

  That thought made everything seem lighter, the mission ahead, the warhead on his back, everything felt a little easier. It was almost impossible for him to forgive, but Boyd knew that he should set the blame where it rightly deserved to be. Not at the feet of someone who was themselves a victim, someone who had acted under duress. The blame was with Kitzov. He knew he could never forgive Kitzov.

  Boyd hated the fact that he needed Kitzov for this mission. He was a smooth operator, and he knew how to get people to do what he wanted them to do, whether it was in their best interests or not. But without Kitzov, right now Boyd would not have assembled the task force capable of tracking the Skarak signal.

  Boyd moved closer to the tower and slowed his descent as he neared his target site. The locations of the Blue Stars on his wrist mounted holostage showed him that every warhead would be at their target location within seconds. It was a well-timed maneuver, executed to perfection by a group of well-trained professionals.

  Boyd came to a halt, his thrusters and grav field holding him steady. The tower was so broad at its base that it appeared before Boyd as a flat surface, not curved like the needle it looked like from space. Boyd hovered less than a meter away from the black surface. He signaled the assault team to detach the warheads and prepare to position them on the tower.

  Boyd looked into the deep dark surface. It seemed to have no outer surface, but it fell away into a far depth. The closer he looked, the more he thought he could see structure within. The blackness swirled lazily like thick tar. The surface appeared incredibly dense and heavy, but it also appeared to not be there at all.

  Boyd activated the warhead, starting the countdown with the detonation set for five short minutes, just enough time for him and his assault team to evacuate the blast zone.

  He moved the warhead toward the tower and gently rested it on the surface. He let go as it was pulled out of his grip. It fell away into the black surface like a stone placed on the surface of a pond. And as the warhead slipped away, it was lost in the black that closed around it.

  Boyd looked at the surface in surprise. Doc appeared on his wrist mounted holostage. He was pointing up to space and their waiting ship.

  Boyd sent an order to the assault team to return to the Resolute as soon as they had deployed their warheads. He paused, hesitating for a moment, and then checked the status of his warhead on his holostage. All contact with the device was lost. The time to detonation was counting down on his holostage, but that was not connected to the warhead itself, just synchronized.

  Boyd put his hand to the tower surface. He instantly felt himself tugged into the material. He had felt this sensation before, when the Skarak had tried to take control his mind. He had resisted them then because he had a mission, and his desire to fulfill his objectives was greater than the pull of the Skarak. He pulled his hand away with huge effort, his mind and muscles straining.

  With his hand free from the grip of the dark Skarak material, he activated his grav field and thrusters. They sent him racing upward. He looked back down to the target site, already a hundred meters below him. He saw the movement at the base of the tower. Skarak soldiers were beginning to climb, hundreds of soldiers were emer
ging from the dark material all around the base of the tower as easily as if they were stepping from shadow into light.

  Cronin’s voice crackled over Boyd’s helmet communicator.

  “Incoming,” he said. “Skarak fighters.”

  Boyd checked his holostage and saw the group of Skarak fighters racing toward the tower, barely meters above the ground surface, skimming over the heads of the thousands of staggering, stumbling, mindless humans. The fighters reached the base of the tower and turned to head directly upward.

  Boyd knew that laying the warheads had alerted the Skarak. He checked the time. In three minutes he would know if his mission had been a success. But as the fighters closed in, he was not sure he would have three seconds. He pushed his suit thrusters and grav field to full power, and he swung up his pulse rifle. The Skarak were coming fast, and he was going to fight them for every second he could. He was never going to give up.

  Kitzov saw the Skarak fighters racing up from the surface of the Skarak planet. They were heading for the Blue Star assault team, but once they were finished with them the fighters would come looking for the ships that had brought them. It was time to leave. The plan to destroy the tower had not worked, not that Kitzov ever believed it would. Boyd was as foolish as he was brave. Not a combination that lent itself well to a long and easy life.

  Kitzov opened a channel to the Silence and the Phantom Zero.

  “Skarak are approaching. The plan has failed. I am ordering a full retreat. All ships, signal your redlines to leave. Resolute will be lead ship. Make ready to follow me.”

  The image of Thresh aboard the Silence appeared on the holostage. Now, as Kitzov looked at the flight deck of his old ship, he realized how poor it was. Compared to the Resolute it was an aging old junker.

  “What are you doing on the Resolute?” she unfastened her environment suit at the neck and clipped the helmet on her waist band just above her hip holster. “I have been looking all over the Silence for you. No one told me you had left. I thought I was coming to the Silence to join you.”

  “We will be together, little Enke. You must follow me now so we can go to our new future.”

  “We can’t leave,” Thresh said. “We must wait for the Blue Stars. They are counting on us. Boyd and his team are on their way back now.”

  Kitzov hesitated. Was Thresh too close to this Union boy? He began to feel that all he had done to keep her under his power had been wasted.

  “They had their shot,” Kitzov said, “and we will be finished too if we hesitate. We must leave now.”

  “We are still hidden,” Thresh said, “the Skarak haven’t seen us yet. We can wait.”

  “You are noble and kind, little Enke,” Kitzov said. “But you must listen to me now. We will all be finished, captured by the Skarak. You don’t want them to capture you again, do you? You must follow me, now.”

  “Please, Kitzov,” Thresh pleaded. “Just a few minutes.”

  “Ok,” Kitzov said, finally letting Thresh hear he had given in to her pleas. “But it is too dangerous here. You go ahead, take the Silence and lead our people out of here. I will wait for Boyd and his Blue Stars. The Resolute is best equipped to deal with a few Skarak. You go ahead. I’ll bring Boyd to you.”

  Enke nodded. Kitzov knew he had her. She had been indoctrinated from an early age, convinced that Kitzov was always right and honest, that he only had her best interests at heart. She had been a difficult challenge for him, so head strong, so independent. He had convinced her that she was the most brilliant of all, the pinnacle of all Faction personnel, a leader and probably his heir to the leadership of the Faction. All his time spent convincing her he had her best interests at heart was coming to fruition now.

  “Yes,” Thresh said. Her voice low, her head tipped forward.

  “Be happy, Enke,” Kitzov said. “You do this not for yourself but for others. Be happy you are doing a good thing, the right thing, a hard thing but only someone as strong as you could do it. Go, now. I’ll be right behind you with Will Boyd.”

  Thresh vanished from the holostage. Kitzov watched on the holostage as the Silence began to move off, heading upward from the Skarak system’s ecliptic plain, up into the vast emptiness of interstellar space.

  Kitzov saw the Blue Stars rising up toward the Resolute, Skarak fighters closing in behind them. Then he saw a Skarak warship gliding silently through the black, rounding the planet and moving in, its primary weapon glowing with the fierce blue crackle fire, ready to strike.

  14

  Thresh watched the events on the Skarak planet on the holostage of the Silence. She stood in the center of the flight deck, a pilot and a flight engineer her only company. They seemed more interested in what lay ahead than what was behind them. They had escaped the Skarak planet and were noticeably relieved.

  Thresh watched Boyd and his team racing up from the planet, rapidly closing in on the Resolute. The team was flying upward and facing back, firing at the pursuing Skarak fighters. They narrowly avoided the Skarak blue crackle fire aimed at them. They were more accurate with their pulse rifles, but the pulse rounds were having limited impact on the nimble Skarak fighters. And those Skarak fighters were closing in fast.

  She felt her heart sink as she saw she was abandoning Boyd. But Kitzov had promised to stay and collect them. He was only sending her away for her own good. But then a cold feeling came over her and for a moment she was unable to breathe. It was like she had just woken up from a very bad dream. Realization crept in from the edges of her mind. At first she tried to push it away, but it bombarded her and made her feel sick to her stomach. She was lying to herself. She had been manipulated by Kitzov. She finally realized that she could not trust him.

  And neither could Boyd. Thresh knew she was the Blue Stars’ only real hope of rescue from the Skarak planet. Then she saw the Resolute and the Phantom Zero move away from the planet confirming what she knew deep down. Kitzov was not to be trusted.

  She opened a channel to the Resolute as it began to move off, climbing up from the ecliptic and away from the Skarak planet.

  Kitzov appeared on the holostage.

  “Kitzov, what are you doing?” Thresh said. “We can’t abandon Boyd and his team!”

  “I understand, but we have no choice,” Kitzov spoke with a tone of genuine concern and regret.

  Thresh didn’t believe he was sincere. He was saying whatever he could to justify his treachery.

  “Skarak warships are moving in. Boyd fought and he lost. No one will miss him more than I will, but we must go. I only want to save you, Enke.”

  “I won’t do it,” Thresh said. She felt a shiver of fear and excitement as she defied Kitzov. “I won’t abandon him. He’s trying to save us all.”

  “Can you not see the warships moving in?” Kitzov tone changed subtly and had an edge of frustration.

  Thresh saw the true nature of Kitzov, all he wanted to do was have his own way, and now that the pressure was on, his politician’s tone was slipping away.

  “We have to leave,” Kitzov said. “You are nearly clear. Get the Silence out of here and we will rendezvous far from Skarak controlled territory. We can remember Will Boyd and honor him with a Faction medal of courage.”

  It was the first time Thresh had heard of such a medal. Kitzov was trying anything to get Thresh out of the Skarak system and leave Boyd behind. Thresh saw the Phantom Zero moving off, following the Resolute up from the planet. She cut Kitzov off the holostage.

  She turned her back to the holostage and looked at the pilot. His face was set grim. She knew he wasn’t going to obey her order to return to the Skarak planet. He was heading to safety and she could see he wouldn’t be persuaded to head back into danger for anyone, let alone a Union Blue Star marine.

  She didn’t have time for a debate, she had wasted enough time.

  She drew her pulse pistol and blasted the faction pilot with a low yield pulse. She turned to the other flight deck operator at the engineering console.


  “Your pulse pistol,” she said. “Toss it. Slowly.”

  The Faction operator drew the pistol in a swift move, bringing it up to fire. Thresh fired, blasting him with another low yield pulse. He staggered backward and then slumped forward over his console.

  Thresh climbed up into the command chair and sealed the security doors, then she transferred flight controls to the her chair. A holographic flight console appeared in front of her.

  She immediately turned the Silence about and hit the main drive sending the ship directly back to the Skarak planet.

  Kitzov held back his anger at seeing the Silence heading back. He had been so sure Thresh was under his control. As he moved up from the planet he was heading toward the Silence. They were on course to pass each other within a few meters. It was going to be close.

  A wave of Skarak fighters turned to intercept the Resolute and a huge warship was closing in. Kitzov saw the danger. The Skarak now knew where his ships were. He needed to make his escape perfect.

  “Captain Kessler,” he said to the leader of the Phantom Zero. “Good to see a Faction captain who knows when to do the right thing. Follow me and keep it tight. We can lose these Skarak. I have a trick up my sleeve. Get ready to cut power and go dark.”

  He tapped on his wrist mounted holostage. An image of the Silence appeared. His ship, the flag ship of the Faction for so many years. But now he had a new flag ship. The Resolute would serve him very well as he established his new Faction. He watched the approaching Silence and the range finder counting down on the small holostage. He activated a personal code and then watched.

  When the Silence was just alongside the Resolute and the Phantom Zero Kitzov transmitted his code.