But she had the numbers to overwhelm even this position. The Devex had populated the two inner planets and some moons around the outer gas giants. Phisrid sent a fighter phalanx in closer to one of the outer moons.
The Devex fire came the instant her fighters were in range. The streams of minute white energy bullets came tearing up from the moon’s surface. The Skalidion fighters exploded, their green fire ballooning out in billowing clouds that faded and finally died to nothing. The builders moved in to devour what remained of the fighters and return their matter to the next asteroid many astro units behind the front line, deep in Phisrid’s expanding territory.
The defensive fire from the moon was heavy and sustained, but it had peaked. Phisrid released a second phalanx and rushed the moon’s surface, closing in on the fixed Devex position.
The phalanx overwhelmed the Devex, obliterated them with bursts of green fire dropped to the surface, and when the white energy bullets stopped flying and the Devex fell silent, the builders moved in and devoured what remained.
Phisrid looked to the formation in the inner system. More fixed positions and the Devex warships. The thrill of her small victory filled her with confidence. She poised ready to attack.
Then the Devex made their mistake. A misalignment in their formation. A group of ships on the sunward flank moved too far from their supporting moon defense battery.
The instant she identified the chink in the Devex armor, she deployed her fighters. They raced in toward the narrow gap, a dagger to pierce an opening in heavy armor. A flurry of defensive fire poured from the Devex, but they sensed their destruction even as the Skalidion fighters fell in their hundreds. The Devex could not destroy them all. Phisrid knew she had won. There was the carnage to come, but the outcome was certain.
The Devex knew this also and began to fall back, dropping toward the central star and using gravitational slingshots to hurl themselves out of the system, abandoning it to the Skalidions.
The builders moved in, falling onto the fixed defensive installations. In a final act of defiance, the Devex garrison detonated the self-destruct and annihilated themselves and the attacking Skalidions. But there was plenty of matter for Phisrid’s remaining builders to devour. The fighters charged after the fleeing Devex, chasing them out of the system, with bursts of Skalidion green fire scorching the retreating ships.
The corridors of the civilian vessel were filled with the dispossessed. Hundreds of civilians without a cabin to call home made their homes in the corridors. A shantytown of improvised tents along every corridor. The sight of these scum made Agent Mallet sick. These feral humans should have been left behind in the evacuation.
Ident codes from many flashed up on Mallet’s receiver. Some of this human detritus had no idents, showing they were either outcast or criminal before the evacuation. Living in this squalor would not change their status and probably would only serve to embed it further. Mallet wondered if it would be best to vent this entire section into space.
A small stall set up on the corner of a junction in the smallest of recesses was cooking food on an open fire from an unregulated micro plasma coil. The food smelled revolting to Mallet, a mixture of crushed insect and fungus masquerading as meat, but the stall had a small crowd waiting for the finished product, wrapped in flat bread and doused with a thick sauce.
Mallet could shut this stall down, arrest the chef and the customers, impound the equipment, and set jail terms for all involved, but she didn’t have the time. She was here to see someone, a person who was good at evading intelligence agents. She had his location and wasn’t going to waste time on this illegal street food stall. They would all be dead from food poisoning, or a plasma fire eruption, before too long in any case.
The small bar along the corridor was set up in a family cabin. Where the family was now was anyone’s guess, and Mallet couldn’t care less about the original occupants. The bar had one access through the main door that had been jammed open. There was no other way out. Mallet had her target trapped.
The doorman stepped in front of Mallet as she approached. This establishment was not the sort to welcome in members of the agency. Mallet smiled. She scanned for an ident and found there wasn’t one. No one was going to miss this heavy. She slipped the Taser down her sleeve and into her palm, then jammed it into the fat belly of the towering doorman. All without breaking her stride. The doorman fell in a quivering heap. Mallet stepped around him, moving between the customers who rushed to flee the scene.
Several chairs and small bar tables had been toppled by the fleeing customers and they littered the floor that was soaked with cheap liquor. The barman looked at Mallet nervously before leaving, following the others.
Sitting at the far end of the room, at a small table facing the doorway and the approaching Mallet, sat one lone customer, the only one too brave or too stupid to run. Mallet picked up a fallen chair and dropped it down opposite the man.
He poured a small glass of Amber from a half-full bottle and slid it over to Mallet.
“I don’t,” she said and sat down.
Lou Beretta raised the glass and offered a silent toast to his new companion before knocking the small measure of Amber back. He slammed the empty glass down with a satisfied growl before pouring himself another.
“So if you don’t want a drink, sweetness, what do you want?” Beretta threw back another shot.
“I want you,” Mallet said. She made to lean forward onto the table but seeing the mess all over the it, a mix of cigar ash and liquor, she chose to sit upright on the small, uncomfortable composite chair.
“If I had a drink for every woman who said that…” Beretta poured another drink.
Mallet snatched the glass off the table and threw it over her shoulder, the Amber spilling as the glass arced across the bar toward the open doorway. It clattered to the floor and skittered away into the corridor.
“I’m not any woman,” Mallet said. “I’m Special Agent Mallet, and I’ve spent a long time looking for you.”
Smiling a broad and cheeky smile, Beretta lifted the bottle. “I am happy you have found me, but it wouldn’t work out between us. I don’t think I could survive a strong woman like you.”
Mallet drew her sidearm and held it in her lap. Beretta raised his bottle in a toast.
“If I’m going to get shot, I might as well finish the bottle.”
Mallet fired, blasting the bottle in Beretta’s hand. Beretta looked at the Amber and broken glass on the ground then dropped the neck of the bottle to the ground along with the rest of the pieces.
Beretta stood up, his chair flying back. Mallet remained completely relaxed.
“I can get you another,” she said, “but you have to work for me first.”
Beretta picked up his chair and sat down. “I’m no agency chirp. Find someone else.”
“I don’t need information. I’ve got all the information I need. I just want you to take a little job with the fleet, an advisory role.”
Beretta held his hands out wide. “Guess there’s no point in me running, so speak up before I sober up.”
“You know this region. You were out there on your own for weeks. You’ve been inside Skalidion territory and made it back to the fleet. I can’t think of a person in the fleet better qualified to be lead on a little recon mission.”
“Fly into Skalidion space?” Beretta laughed. “You sure you haven’t been at the Amber?”
“There is a mission to take a close look, a fact-finding mission.”
“I’m not a man much interested in facts. I go with my gut feeling.” Beretta leaned forward, folding his arms on the table and looking Mallet in the eyes. “And my gut is telling me you will be the death of me. One way or another, sweetness, you will be the death of me. But I’d rather die here, warm and half-drunk, and with maybe with a kiss from your cold lips, than sober and frozen to death in the void of space.”
“I need you to come back alive,” Mallet lied. “But there is someone on thi
s mission I hope doesn’t make it back.”
“And what makes you think I am going to listen to your kill list?”
“Because it’s short—only one name—and he’s top of your list too. Jack Forge.”
Beretta sat back in his chair and looked Mallet up and down. Mallet let him stare and consider what he’d been told.
“Skalidion space is not a very safe place,” Beretta said.
Mallet shook her head.
“Tell me what the fleet wants me to do, then tell me what you want me to do, and then I’ll tell you my price.”
Mallet tucked her sidearm away. “How about we forget about your current record? I can make the agency forget all about you. How does a new start sound?”
Beretta nodded. “And a date, with you, somewhere nice.”
Mallet stood up and tossed Beretta a small holochip. “That’s your authorization and all the information you need. Be ready to move,” she said.
8
The Marine deck of the Scorpio was a hive of activity as Jack strode in. The tac boats were receiving final prep. A group of engineers were replacing access panels to some tac boats, having given the various systems a hasty yet much needed servicing.
Alongside Jack stood Sam, both in their tactical suits with their helmets under their arms. Both were armed with the Fleet Marine pulse pistol. This was a reconnaissance mission, and Jack hoped there would be no contact with the enemy, so sidearms were preferred to the rifle.
The final adjustments were made to the waiting tac boats, and the maintenance crew moved off. This left only a small group of handpicked Marines to accompany Jack into Skalidion space. Sam was the first name on Jack’s team sheet. Second was Commander Osho. Jack had served with Osho, trained and fought with the young woman, and she had been in command of the Scorpio Battalion during Jack’s absence. She was a great choice for Jack’s team.
The others were suggested by Osho and picked by Jack. All had seen combat in either the Chitin War or against the Devex. All had superior ratings on tac boats. This was the best group of Marine pilots on the Scorpio, if not in the fleet.
“Fall in, Sam,” Jack said quietly to his old friend. Sam marched to the end of the line of Marines and turned on his heel, coming to attention with the rest.
“At ease,” Jack said, and the group adjusted their posture. All were ready for action, equipped with a tactical suit and a pulse pistol on their hip, with some having a second pistol attached to their chest holster. All had a steely look of fierce determination in their eyes.
“This is a surveillance operation only. We don’t know much about the Skalidion except they are extremely dangerous and have been pushing into Devex territory at will. We will find a weakness in their formation and bring back the information so the fleet can exploit it and escape this region.
“Our mission will be for nothing if we cannot get this information back to the fleet, so watch your boats carefully. We are going in dark. Make sure we all stay that way. We have a full ordnance load, but if you open fire, you will make your position known to the Skalidion, and they will attack. Be in no doubt, this is as dangerous as it gets, Marines.
“We get in. We go deep. We scan and map and get out clean. If you have to engage, be advised you will be on our own. We are under strict orders not to offer assistance. Our priority is to gather information. Don’t get itchy trigger fingers. Get the information back to the fleet.”
Jack looked at the Marines. This was a volunteer-only mission, and they all knew the danger. Jack nodded in satisfaction that they all understood their jobs.
As a last-minute duty, Jack contacted the command deck of the Scepter on his wrist-mounted holostage. Group Captain Tanaka’s image appeared.
“Ready to proceed, sir.”
Tanaka nodded once. “Caution is advised, but speed is the key. We don’t know how long we can maintain the cooperation of the Devex. Bring us something we can use as soon as possible, Major. Scepter out.”
Jack dropped his hand to his side as the image of Tanaka vanished, then he gave the order for the Marines to board their boats.
“Let’s do this,” Jack said and waved the Marines forward.
Jack climbed onto his boat. The flight console was powered up and all lights were green. He hadn’t seen a green board for longer than he could remember.
Dropping into the pilot seat, Jack hit the panel to close the boarding ramp. The hiss and screech of the ramp closing reminded Jack that this boat and all the others had been through more action than they had ever been designed for. They were still flying, however, and about to perform one of the most important jobs of their operational lives.
Jack opened a channel to the tac boat flotilla as he requested the hangar doors be opened.
“I’m lead scout. Hold your position and watch your energy readouts. Hangar doors are opening, and we have permission from Scorpio command to disembark. Passive scanners only. Main drive burst on my command. Be ready to shut it down before we exit the nebula.”
Jack moved his tac boat through the hangar doors. The holoimage on his flight deck holostage showed him the nearby ships all hidden inside the nebula. Off on the edge of his passive scanner range was the single raider, the envoy who had brought the offer of an alliance.
Jack watched the raider and hoped he could bring back some useful, tactical information. But the Skalidion were a complete unknown. It would be difficult to identify a weakness. Their strength was clear: they had numbers and were ruthless with a complete disregard for the individual.
They were a dangerous enemy, but they were predictable. They were aggressive and would attack. Maybe that was their weakness.
A new tac boat signal appeared on Jack’s holostage, a ship joining his flotilla from the Scepter. Jack opened a channel to the Scepter command deck. He was answered by a command deck officer.
“This is group flight control. tac boat Scepter Three is assigned as observer by Fleet Intelligence. Communications prohibited under agency law. Scepter out.”
Jack looked at the small blip now registered as Scepter Three and rolled his eyes. The last thing a covert mission like this needed was an agency wildcard. Jack had vetted all his pilots and was sure they would do their jobs. He had no idea who or what was in Scepter Three. The best thing to do, Jack thought, was to ignore it, unless it became a threat to the mission.
“All tac boats. This is Forge. Operation Silent Visitor is go. Main engine burn on my mark. No further communications are authorized. Good luck, everybody. Mark.”
Jack hit the main drive and kicked his tac boat up to insertion speeds. He would clear the nebula in moments and be inside Skalidion territory only moments after that. He cut his drive a moment before leaving the nebula and was flung deep inside Skalidion space.
He would either come back with a realistic idea of how to beat the Skalidion, or it wouldn’t be worth coming back. Without a plan, there could be no escape.
Sitting back in his chair, Jack let himself fall into a deep sleep. He knew it would be brief, but it would give him the rest he needed before he got in too deep.
Jack was instantly awake the moment the flight console alerted him that he had crossed into Skalidion territory. The tac boat flotilla was arranged in its search pattern, a line abreast covering a hundred kilometers with a passive search radius of several thousand kilometers. Scepter Three hung back a few hundred kilometers from the line, directly behind Jack at the center.
With all the activity in this area, Jack knew it would not be long before he detected the Skalidion.
And he was right. The huge swarm of Skalidion fighters was moving across the front of his flotilla at speed, no doubt patrolling the boundary of their territory.
The formation moved across the tac boat front. The boats closed in, holding their speed. Jack held his nerve and hoped the other pilots could remain calm also. If one made a bid to escape, they would surely be detected at this close range.
The Skalidion swarm cleared the starboard
end of the formation and moved off along the border. Jack replayed all the data gathered from the swarm and re-watched it on his flight console holostage. The swarm moved as one and looked like a huge teardrop-shaped ship all together, but on closer inspection, Jack could see the movement from the individual Skalidions within. They flitted back and forth in jerky motions, moving seemingly at random but not ever coming too close to another fighter. Their jerky motion was slightly hypnotic and unpleasant. Jack wondered if it was fatigue or the strange alien motion that was making him feel nauseous.
Releasing an antiemetic into his system made Jack feel instantly better. He drank some water and took a bite of a ration block he dug out from a supply pouch on his tactical suit sleeve. Then, switching from the recording back to the forward view, Jack resumed his hunt into Skalidion territory.
The passive scanner showed a Skalidion fighter swarm moving along behind the boats. Jack looked at the data. It appeared to be the same swarm moving back along its patrol line. The formation had advanced so now the Skalidions were patrolling behind Jack and his flotilla.
They were inside Skalidion territory now. Up ahead, Jack saw an even larger mass, a huge swarm of Skalidions, larger than a hundred teardrop-shaped fighter swarms. Moving in closer, Jack saw the familiar shape of the sleek Skalidion fighters dominating the swarm, but there were also other types, all about the same size but with clearly different abilities.
Toward the outer edge of the swarm were the largest Skalidion craft. They were roughly spherical and were covered in antennae. They had huge dark regions on their surface. Jack would need to capture and study one of these craft to understand their role in the swarm, but that was not his mission.
Within the swarm of fighters was another type of spherical craft, but these were missing the antennae and dark regions. They also had a large, flattened end. They were difficult to understand at first, but as the flotilla came closer, Jack noticed the rasping teeth in the round flattened end. It looked like a shredder. In the center of the swarm, the spheres were paying out a long line of material from the side opposite the shredding front and depositing it in a precise swirling motion to the surface of a huge asteroid.
Alliance (Jack Forge, Lost Marine Book 5) Page 6
