New Enemy (Jack Forge, Lost Marine Book 4)

by James David Victor

  New Enemy

  Jack Forge, Lost Marine, Book 4

  James David Victor

  Fairfield Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 Fairfield Publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.

  This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Thank You

  1

  Captain Kegan anxiously watched the distant ships on the holostage. The first fuzzy image suggested there was a single ship, but as it came closer to Kegan’s civilian transport, the signal resolved to show three vessels. As they came closer still, their Fleet idents were received and displayed over their holoimages. The ships were a pair of Blades and a frigate.

  Kegan felt a wave of relief wash over him as the three Fleet ships raced toward his transport. This was the first contact with the Fleet he’d had since he lost contact after running away during a Devex attack. He had escaped the Devex but had been alone and lost ever since. He had been approached a few days ago by a Mech ship. It had swept in and moved swiftly along the length of the transport before racing away.

  He had been lost for the better part of a week, which was a long time to be alone in hostile interstellar space. The stress he felt at being alone, with the responsibility of so many people on his hands, had been difficult to hide. It had made him lethargic.

  With the relief at seeing the incoming ships calming him, he realized he had let the pressure of command show and his command deck officers had become despondent and undisciplined. They were scattered around the command deck like a group of untrained recruits—poorly turned out, many out of uniform. One was even drunk, a bottle of Amber poorly hidden underneath his console.

  With a faint hope that the arrival of these ships would snap his command deck crew back into shape, Kegan opened the communications channel from his command chair armrest. The communications officer was asleep at his post. It would take too long to rouse him, Kegan thought, so he performed the task himself.

  The image of the frigate commander appeared on the holostage. He was unshaven but had a look of steely discipline.

  “Captain Kegan. This is Frigate Commander Dennis aboard Frigate S-2.”

  “Greetings, Commander,” Kegan said, feeling the weight of a number of sleepless nights catch up with him all of a sudden. “I’m so glad you found us,” Kegan’s voice cracked with emotion, “I thought we were lost for good.”

  “Copy that,” Dennis replied coolly. “We are currently rounding up a number of transports that have been separated following the Devex raids. I need access to your passenger list. I have clearance from Fleet Command to access all your records. Accessing your ship’s central computer now.”

  “Is there something I can help you with, Commander?” Kegan asked. He stepped down from his command chair and walked over to the badly-hidden bottle of Amber under an officer’s console. Kegan shoved the officer aside and took the bottle.

  “Negative, Captain. No assistance required,” Dennis replied, looking away to his own flight controls. “I am just checking for a pair of passengers. They are sisters. Riya and Bren Henson.”

  “We’ve got over twenty thousand passengers on board, Commander. We were overrun before we could evacuate. I’ve got hundreds, if not thousands, of unregistered passengers on board. I don’t know exactly who we have here.”

  “What? You haven’t conducted a ship-wide census?” Commander Dennis asked, looking up from his flight controls and into Kegan’s eye. Then he brushed the question aside with a slight shake of his head. “The Henson sisters are registered passengers, Captain,” Dennis said, looking back to his work, “but it looks like they must be aboard another ship.”

  “Any reason you need those two?” Kegan inquired, stepping back up to his chair. He took a sip of the Amber and felt the shiver from the liquor slam into his fatigue.

  “No reason, Captain,” Dennis said. “I’m sending you a new heading for a fleet rendezvous. We will get you back with the fleet as soon as possible.”

  Kegan’s eyes dropped as he relaxed for the first time since the evacuation. He would be back with the fleet soon and could take a break, or better still, defer command of the civilian transport to someone else.

  It had all been too much for him. Kegan had never wanted the captaincy of this massive ship, but he had been stuck with it. His only previous experience had been flying an asteroid mining shuttle, taking a couple dozen roughnecks at a time to and from their asteroid.

  Captain Kegan received the heading from Commander Dennis and sent it to the navigation console. A disheveled officer tapped a few commands and input the heading into the navigational controls.

  “You will make your way to the rendezvous,” Commander Dennis said. His image on the holostage showed he was already working on something else.

  “Can’t you accompany us to the rendezvous?” Kegan implored, his anxiety rising slightly. “Please, Commander. We were attacked by a Mech ship a few days ago. At least send one of your Blades with us.”

  Commander Dennis looked out from the holoimage at Kegan in his command chair.

  “Attacked? The Mechs haven’t attacked a civilian transport before. Accessing your data now.”

  Kegan shifted in his chair. He realized that saying he had been attacked was a stretch of the truth. It had only been a flyby, but the silent alien ship had troubled him.

  Dennis looked up from his controls, clearly having reviewed the attack.

  “Make directly for the rendezvous, Captain,” Commander Dennis said brusquely. “I have orders to continue my search for lost transports. We have become scattered since the first Devex attacks. We need to reform the fleet before moving on from this sector. When you reach the rendezvous, a guide ship will be waiting there to bring all lost craft back to the fleet.”

  “But,” Kegan stuttered, “I don’t trust my navigational systems. I think I got lost because it threw me off course. I need an engineering and maintenance team over here.”

  Dennis looked at Kegan and considered this. He guessed the civilian captain could be right and that his systems were out of calibration, but it was just as likely that the captain was incompetent, or at least out of his depth. The civilian fleet had been thrown together at such short notice that practically anyone with piloting ability was assigned a civilian transport to command. But, from what Commander Dennis could see of the transport’s command deck, it was fairly clear that the captain was struggling with command.

  “Input the heading and proceed at maximum speed,” Dennis said, ignoring the captain’s protests. “I have sent your current location to the fleet. If you get lost again, someone will come and lead you in. But for now...”

  Dennis trailed off.

  Kegan shifted nervously in his chair. He watched the holoimage of the frigate commander, hoping the commander had had a sudden change of heart and would lead him back to the fleet personally.

  Dennis looked away from the holoimage at something by the copilot next to him.

  “Captain,” Commander Dennis said, looking back to Kegan, “I have a signal moving i
n at high speed. Sync your sensors to mine so we can expand our range and take a look at what’s coming.”

  “What is it?” Kegan said, panic rising.

  “Maybe another Mech,” Dennis said. “Sync sensors now.”

  Captain Kegan sent over the sensor readings from his own ship to the frigate. He called up the combined data and projected it on the holostage. Commander Dennis’s image shrank to a small inset at the base of the holostage.

  The main image on the holostage showed an indistinct haze moving in from the port side of the transport, still many astro units away but closing fast. The sensors refocused as the mass moved closer and presented a clearer image.

  Kegan thought he could pick out a number of small ships at the head of a huge teardrop formation. Small one-man craft moving in at speed.

  “Is it a squadron of Blades?” Kegan asked, hoping the Fleet’s fighter squadron was coming to fly him back to the fleet.

  Commander Dennis was suddenly frantically tapping away at his console.

  “Skalidion fighters,” Dennis said.

  “What?” Kegan asked. He leaned forward in his command chair. All eyes on his command deck turned to him and then back to the image of Commander Dennis.

  “Throw everything you can into your drive systems, Captain,” Dennis said. “I’m leaving.”

  “Who are the Skalidion?” Kegan said again.

  “Dennis out,” Commander Dennis said. His image vanished from the holostage, leaving only the advancing swarm of Skalidion fighters.

  “Kravin fleet officers,” Kegan muttered to himself. He re-opened the channel to Frigate S-2.

  “Commander, I demand an answer, and I demand you come back here.”

  The channel remained closed. The incoming fighters had closed to within one astro unit. Kegan could see the ships clearly now. They were small, hardly bigger than a combat drone. Smaller than a Blade fighter craft. But there were thousands of them.

  “Drive,” Kegan called out. “Put us on a heading back to the fleet and get us out of here.”

  The drive officer input the commands. His haste caused mistakes and it took several seconds for him to reply.

  “Ship is coming about onto new heading. Bringing the reactors up to full power now. Drive assembly active. Accelerating now.”

  Captain Kegan tapped the armrest and called up a wide view on the holostage. The massive civilian transport sat in the center of the image. It was turning slowly and moving away, its drive assembly glowing bright in the holoimage. The teardrop formation of the small Skalidion fighters moved in closer.

  Kegan realized he would not get away.

  “They’re tiny,” Kegan said. “Those cowards from the fleet could have beaten these little ships away. How much firepower does a Fleet frigate have? Mega-tons of ordnance, hail cannon, high-energy laser. And they run and leave us.”

  Kegan was shaking as he watched the flight of Skalidions closed in.

  The drive assembly erupted as the lead fighters slammed into the rear of the ship. The drive began to erupt and tore through the ship.

  The bulging front of the tear drop formation wrapped around the massive transport even as it was exploding from the rear. The Skalidion fighters raced ahead of the explosion and tore the outer hull away—physically pulling the hull away and effectively flaying the massive transport.

  Captain Kegan watched the explosions and the Skalidions devour his ship on the holostage image in disbelief. The explosion reached the central sensor nodes and the holoimage flickered away, leaving a blank holostage.

  Then Kegan felt the rumble of the explosion begin to shake the command deck at the front of the ship. Half the ship must have been consumed in fire already and the explosion was moving forward, drawing closer to the command deck by the second.

  The crew was in total panic around him. Many were screaming, some running off the command deck. Panic and disorder and fear.

  Kegan picked up the bottle of Amber and took a deep drink. He pulled off the bottle gasping for air as the harsh Amber burst out of his nose. Tears and Amber stung his eyes. The command deck filled with noise, and then fire.

  As the civilian transport disintegrated under the Skalidion fighters’ assault, a swarm of builder caste Skalidions came along behind and began consuming every particle from the burning drive assembly to the very deck plates themselves. Every part of the transport devoured in a methodical and voracious feast. The burning embers cooled, leaving empty space and no trace of the massive civilian transport, only a swarm of Skalidions racing off in search of fresh prey.

  2

  Jack sat in the small interview room on a composite chair that was melded into the composite deck plates. The table was also formed out of the composite. Neither could be moved.

  So Jack waited.

  The door eventually opened and Special Agent Mallet walked in. The air was cold around her. She didn’t acknowledge Jack as she sat down, but began to tap at her wrist-mounted holostage. She projected a holofile over the table between her and Jack and studied it for a moment.

  Jack remained calm and waited.

  “You didn’t want to join the Marines, did you, Forge?”

  He had been an engineering student, once, during the Chitin War. He had lost his place following a short period of absence to attend the funeral of his brother, his last living relative. The absence had caused him to miss a single test and the subsequent drop of one grade level had caused him to lose his place at university, meaning he could be pressed into the Fleet Marine Service.

  At the time, the war was going badly and humanity in the Eros System was being pushed back by the Chitins. That war, and that life, was well behind them all now. Those who could escape had done so. The remnants of the Eros System’s civilization was now adrift among the stars aboard a fleet of massive civilian transport ships, and the tattered remnants of the Fleet Marine Service were their only protection as they all searched for a new home.

  Even though that war was far behind, it had a habit of catching up with Jack. Sometimes through vivid dreams of danger and conflict, but on this occasion, it was with a challenge from the Fleet Intelligence Agency here in the form of Special Agent Mallet.

  “I was a student,” Jack replied.

  “And a good one,” Mallet said. “Until you went truant, that is.”

  “It was my brother’s funeral,” Jack said with a resigned sigh. He’d been through this before so many times. He grew tired of repeating it, but every time he did, he thought again of his loss.

  “We were at war, Forge. There were funerals every day. But you thought you were special. To study was a privilege. When all other resources were being thrown into fighting for our survival, you were able to read and study. But you thought you could take it easy, when everyone else was fighting for their survival, and for yours.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Jack said.

  She was trying to goad him into a hasty response. He had long learned to take the accusations of the Fleet Intelligence Agency with calmness, though. It would not help his cause if he were to become angry. A calm rebuttal of these charges was his best hope of getting through this interview to discover if he was guilty.

  “How about when you killed Commander Finch?” Mallet asked, flicking through the files in front of her. “What was that like?”

  Jack remained motionless, although inside, he shifted nervously. The truth had never been revealed about the death of Finch. Jack had been cleared of charges, but they were never truly behind him. They reappeared whenever a Fleet Intelligence agent was nearby.

  Finch had been a bad commander when Jack was a new Marine, fresh from boot camp and on his first mission. But he hadn’t killed Finch. It had been an accident. But then Finch had returned, perhaps a victim, or maybe a conspirator, of the Chitins. He had been swiftly taken into the custody of Fleet intelligence. Jack always thought that the agency knew more about Finch than they ever let on.

  “Finch didn’t die,” Jack said. “He was arr
ested by Fleet Intelligence Agent Visser on this very ship.”

  “Yes,” Mallet said. “Arrested and detained and interviewed extensively where he told us how he had been attacked by Jack Forge. By you.”

  “He was a Chitin agent at that point. I don’t know how they did it, but it wasn’t Finch that came back. You can’t believe what he told you.” Jack looked at Special Agent Mallet. “But you already know that. What ever happened to Finch?”

  Mallet flicked through her file.

  “Classified,” she said.

  “But this is old history,” Jack said. “No charges were ever brought against me. In fact, I earned a promotion after that mission. I have fought tirelessly since day one.”

  “Yes, you fought. You sacrificed a squad of Marines to win your promotion to major, didn’t you? Who won’t you sacrifice for your own benefit?”

  Jack remembered the mission to the small asteroid to flush out a single Chitin soldier. The Marines under his command were performing poorly, and he had taken them under his wing, to develop their confidence and their skill. They were a team that was beginning to grow in stature and confidence, and their deaths had been a tragic loss for the service. A loss that had haunted him long after.

  “They were casualties of war. I did what I could to give them the best chance of coming through that war, that mission, by leading well. I failed them. I acknowledge that, but a commander cannot be held responsible if an enemy kills those under his command. Sometimes the team succeeds, sometimes not, and that always means casualties. I learned from that mission and I don’t take their loss lightly.”

  “You didn’t seek counseling after their loss,” Mallet said, still flicking through the holofiles.