Forged in Darkness

by James David Victor

  Jack had been close to a Chitin Leviathan before. He had feared for his life then as he did now. The massive craft sat in space next to the open hangar door. The two ships seemed to be flying in close formation. If the calculations were correct, then the Scorpio would sail past and narrowly miss the massive craft. If the calculations were wrong, then any number of bad things could happen and the Chitins would detect the Scorpio. Jack knew they would be attacked and destroyed in moments.

  He watched the massive craft with its many trailing tentacles drifting across his view. It was an impressive and terrifying sight. Out there was Jack’s most deadly enemy. The Chitins. Jack held his breath, afraid that his breathing might give them away.

  But then he took a calming breath and looked out to the void. Although the Chitin armada was massive, the view around the Leviathan was mostly empty space. And Jack knew that somewhere out there in that vast void was his old squad-mate, someone he had once called his friend. Somewhere out there was Bill Harts.

  8

  The officers’ lounge was empty save for Jack and Griff. Jack stood to attention in front of Commander Griff, who was sitting in a large chair with a translucent composite tumbler in his hand with a bright amber liquid inside.

  “Sounds like you did what you could,” Griff said, taking a small sip from his drink. “Surveillance was out on that deck. We didn’t want to inadvertently give away out position with a flicker of light from a surveillance camera.”

  Jack was staring at a spot on the far wall. He didn’t see Griff looking up at him. All Jack could see was the image of the Leviathan, burned on his mind, and the last look from Bill Harts, broken and beaten.

  “Sit down, Jack,” Griff said.

  Jack sat next to Commander Griff. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees.

  “Drink?” Griff stood and walked to the small drinks cabinet.

  “No, thank you, Harry,” Jack said, staring at the floor.

  Griff brought a tumbler of the same amber liquid and handed it to Jack. “It wasn’t an offer, Commander.” Griff held the drink under Jack’s nose. “It’s an order. I’m acting Battalion Commander, remember? Drink.”

  Jack looked up at Griff as he took the drink. The tumbler was heavy. Jack raised it to his lips. The liquid smelled like medicine. It was dry and aromatic. Jack disliked the smell.

  “Drink,” Griff said again and sat down.

  Jack put the tumbler to his mouth and drank. The liquid dried out his mouth and burned his throat and nose. He feared he would choke but he gulped the foul liquor, tipping the tumbler up and draining the contents. He pulled away, gasping and coughing.

  “I think he likes it,” Griff said with a laugh.

  “I should have saved him.” Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He felt the liquid burn as it went down. He felt the spiced aroma send his head into a spin.

  “You couldn’t save him, Jack. A Marine will obey your orders because they are a Marine, not because you are scary and bossy. You give orders so your unit acts in a coordinated manner, not because they can’t think for themselves. Chain of command ensures coordinated action. You’ve fought with your squad and you’ve lost people, but you weren’t giving orders. Now you are in command, and you will lose people. It part of the responsibility of command.”

  Griff stood up and poured another drink.

  “Bill Harts had stopped being a Marine and he wasn’t taking orders any more. It’s not your fault. You mustn’t let it get to you.”

  “So I shouldn’t feel remorse?” Jack said, putting his tumbler down hard. “Is that it, Harry?” Jack felt angry. “I have to stop caring?”

  Griff turned around and faced Jack. “Not at all. I feel for every man I’ve lost. Do you have any idea how many Marines have died under my command?”

  Jack looked up.

  “Forty-three,” Griff said before Jack could answer. “And now I’m acting battalion commander, I can add Marine Bill Harts to that number. I feel for them all, Jack. If I didn’t care for my Marines, I’d be a poor leader. If I cared so much I couldn’t order them into danger, I’d be a worse leader. The objective is key. On this occasion, your objective was to clear the hangar deck and save the Scorpio from certain destruction. We’ve got over five hundred Marines in the battalion, not to mention the Scorpio’s crewmen and all the fleet officers. They are all safe thanks to your actions. I’d say you did well, Jack. I’d say you did very well.”

  Jack was starting to feel better about it all when Visser marched into the officers’ lounge.

  “Leave us, Commander,” she barked coldly.

  Jack turned on his heel and walked toward the door. He didn’t mind getting out of there and leaving Visser to chew out Griff. He felt a little sorry for Griff, but was happy to be leaving. Maybe he could stop by maintenance, review the defense preparations, drink a coffee, and hang out with Reyes.

  “Not you, Forge,” Visser said sharply. “I meant Commander Griff.”

  Jack stepped back into the center of the lounge. Griff gave him an apologetic look as he left. Visser followed Griff to the door and shut it behind him.

  “What happened down there, Jack?” Visser sat in a chair. She held her hand out and invited Jack to sit in the seat next to her.

  “Bill Harts was trying to commit suicide.”

  “I’d say he succeeded. Did he tell you why?”

  Jack slumped in the armchair. “He said the Chits were inside him.”

  Visser nodded. She looked at Jack intently. He could feel her eyes burrowing in to him.

  “He mentioned Finch. Said Finch isn’t Finch anymore.”

  Visser nodded. “Did Bill Harts touch you?”

  “No.” Jack’s head lolled forward. The drink was going straight to his head.

  He felt a shudder ripple over his body, thinking of Bill Harts. Jack felt cold. The wind that had nearly blown him out of the Marine hangar deck still chilled him to the bone. The thought that he could be floating in the void chilled him. The thought of Bill Harts’ frozen body spiraling through space chilled Jack so much he almost felt his bones crack.

  “Where’s Finch?” Jack asked weakly.

  “I’ve had him confined.”

  “So you believe me, he’s not Finch anymore?”

  “I believe he might be a danger to himself. I’ve confined him for his own safety.” Visser stood and placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “But if anything occurs to you, Jack, anything that you think might help us understand what’s going on with Finch, anything at all, let me know.”

  Jack nodded.

  Visser squeezed Jack’s shoulder hard. “Anything at all, such as what might have happened to Finch on Kratos. Anything you might know about how he went missing. Anything could be important. You tell me.”

  Jack felt cold and tired. He felt burdened by the secret he’d kept for so long. He wanted to burst out and tell Visser that Finch was killed, stabbed by Reyes’s electron blade. He knew he would have to explain it had been an accident. Finch was behaving like a scared fool. Jack hoped he could convince Visser that he and Reyes were innocent, but now they were guilty of another crime— withholding information from a Fleet Intelligence agent. How Jack wished he could go back and change everything. But it was all Finch’s fault. Why should he and Reyes live in such fear because Finch was a bad commander and a coward? Why should they suffer because now he was…? Jack wondered what exactly Finch was. Instinctively, Jack knew. Finch was a Chitin in a human skin.

  “If I remember anything,” Jack said, looking up at Visser, “I’ll let you know.”

  9

  Jack finished eating and pushed his plate aside. Sam Torent refilled Jack’s cup with water from a jug on the table.

  “Feeling better, sir?” Torent sat opposite Jack on the hard benches of the mess hall.

  “You don’t have to call me sir when there’s no one around, Sam.”

  “You never know who’ll be listening. Better follow protocol, just to be sure. Sir.” />
  Jack shrugged. Torent was in many ways a law unto himself. Jack could order Torent to stop calling him sir, but it might not make any difference.

  “So,” Torent said. “Old Bill Harts threw himself off the ship. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.”

  “He was a piece of work,” Jack agreed. “Making me hate you.”

  Torent smiled. “He didn’t have to try very hard, did he?”

  Jack laughed and shook his head. “You’re an easy man to hate, Sam.”

  Torent laughed and took a drink, then put the cup down carefully.

  Jack noticed the slightly pained expression on Torent’s face. Torent moved his prosthetic arm through its range of movement. He grimaced as he hit a painful spot.

  “Arm ok?” Jack asked.

  Torent grabbed the wrist of his prosthetic and twisted it. The arm came away in Torent’s hand. He pulled it away, a mass of composite sinews disconnecting, and dropped it on the table. The fingers were twitching and the black composite sinews that connected it to Torent’s body were writhing about. In time, the fingers and sinews stopped.

  “I used to steal contact lenses for my mother,” Torent said. He took hold of one of the black composite sinews between finger and thumb and examined it. “We couldn’t afford implants and she kept losing her glasses. Lenses seemed like a good idea.” Torent dropped the sinew he was studying and picked out another from the bunch. “She used to put the lenses in and forget about them. She was very forgetful. After a few days—” Torent selected another sinew and began studying it. “—she used to get really bad headaches and complain that her eyes were hurting. After a while, I realized she was getting tiny pieces of grit behind her lens and it was hurting her eye.”

  Torent went through the sinews one at a time, studying each one. “The grit behind her lens was driving her crazy.” Torent studied another sinew and let out a yell of success. He held it toward Jack for him to see the fine end. “Look,” Torent said, “it’s corroded. It drives me crazy. It’s like a rusty nail in my brain.” Torent reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stiff brush. He held the sinew steady by resting the stump of his arm on it and then scrubbed the end of the composite sinew with the small brush. After a few moments, he studied it again. Seemingly satisfied the sinew was clean, he picked his arm up. The sinews writhed slowly as Torent raised it toward his arm. The sinews found their way into their positions. The arm pulled itself onto Torent’s upper arm and locked in place. Torent put it through a few experimental movements.

  “Better?” Jack asked.

  Torent nodded and picked up his cup with his prosthetic arm. “Yeah, all good, except for the waiting.” He looked at Jack. “Sitting and waiting. That’s all we do.”

  “Indeed we do, Sam. Sit and wait.”

  “But that is what war is, right, sir?” Torent said lightly. “Ninety-nine percent boredom and one percent complete and utter terror.” Torent raised his cup. “Cheers.”

  Jack knocked his glass against Torent’s. Both took a sip.

  “Any idea when we’ll get our next dose of terror?”

  Jack shook his head and stood up. “I’ll let you know. If we’re going to have a fight, I want sixth squad at my side. You get me?”

  Torent looked up at Jack. “You mean if you’re going to die, you want to take me and the rest of the squad with you?”

  “Something like that.” Jack stepped away from the table. “Thanks for lunch, Sam.”

  “My pleasure, sir. See you when the terror hits.”

  Osho came running into the mess hall. Jack looked over to her and called out. She came running over.

  “She looks busy,” Torent said.

  “I left her as the captain’s runner,” Jack said. “Looks like the terror might be close.”

  Osho stood in front of Jack and gave a salute. “The captain requests all battalion commanders to report to the command deck immediately.”

  Jack poured water into his cup and handed it to Osho. “Thank you, Marine. Take a moment then join me on the command deck.” He turned to Torent. “Better get the squad together. I want you on standby, Sam.” Jack turned and walked off. “See you soon.”

  “Hope not,” Torent replied loudly and then after a longer pause than protocol demanded, he added, “sir.”

  Jack liked Torent’s brash arrogance, and he was good in a fight. He suspected they’d get plenty of fighting soon.

  10

  The command deck was bustling. Commander Chou was dashing from one command station to another. Captain Pretorius was moving around the holostage, tapping at various controls. Commanders Griff and Matavesi were yet to arrive. Jack stepped up to the holostage.

  The center of the holostage showed the Scorpio. Jack had been aboard the ship for most of his active service. He had walked every inch of the destroyer and he’d seen it on the holostage many times, but still Jack thought it was an impressive ship. Even though it was only about seventy percent operational, it looked powerful and dangerous. The batteries of plasma cannons looked like they could take on the entire Chitin fleet. Jack knew the captain was a successful and experienced warrior. The crew was efficient, and their reduced numbers meant they needed to be. Jack felt privileged to be part of such a ship.

  Ahead of the Scorpio lay a small object. Jack guessed the captain had brought the Scorpio to the Chitin surveillance facility.

  “Looks like we are ready to get to work, Mister Forge,” the captain said as he moved around the holostage to his regular position.

  Griff and Matavesi came in together and joined Jack and the captain at the holostage.

  “So that’s it, is it?” Griff said, leaning toward the holoimage of the Chitin device.

  “That’s it,” Pretorius said. “The signals are clear. There is no doubt. We are tracing the energy pulse from the unit and we’ll have the positions of the adjacent facilities soon. Commander Griff, your task is to board the facility and plant the pulse charges. We don’t want to give away our position until we can be sure we can take out the network.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Griff said. “Stealth is the key. The boarding party will infiltrate and lay the charges. We have been equipped with a high-yield demolition charge that is focused to initiate a feedback pulse. Once all devices are in place, the detonation will initiate the pulse that will spread at light speed through the network.”

  “All we have to do is plant the things,” Matavesi said. “The Chitin surveillance network will do the rest.”

  Pretorius nodded. His expression serious and focused. Jack noticed he showed no excitement at the prospect of the destruction, but was totally focused on getting the job done as efficiently and cleanly as possible.

  Griff carried on with his plan. “We’ll traverse the space between the Scorpio and the facility using the meat suit’s thruster packs.”

  The captain looked at Griff with concern.

  “It’s just a jet thruster system,” Griff told the captain. “We won’t create any detectable signal.”

  “Good,” Pretorius said. “The Scorpio is slowing down using forward jet thrusters alone. We still can’t use any powered energy system.”

  Jack raised his hand and looked at the captain. “Once we lay the charges, how are we going to get moving again?” Jack felt the gaze of the Marine commanders fall on him.

  “We can only use the thrusters to get us going again. The next facility in the network could be weeks away at thruster speed but if we are going to succeed, we must remain hidden. The Scorpio’s maneuvering thrusters are our only propulsion option.”

  Matavesi cleared her throat. “Who’s going?” she asked.

  The captain looked at Matavesi. “The infiltration and demo setting is a Marine operation.” He looked over to Griff. “It’s your show, Commander. Have you decided on your team?”

  Jack was studying the small Chitin facility. It looked about the size of a Marine squad transport craft. It was roughly cylindrical in shape with one long arm protruding from the mids
ection. There were more antennae type structures sticking out at various angles, each a different length but all extremely thin. From what appeared to be the base of the facility, there were eight thick tentacles extended outwards in a twisting and coiling manner. They appeared to move slowly as if drifting on some current.

  Jack guessed the best way to gain entry to the interior would be through the hull away from any of the tentacles or antennae. A cutting tool would be probably required.

  Jack realized Griff was looking at him. He stood up straight and faced his commanding officer.

  “Yes?” Jack said.

  Griff looked at Jack with a mixture of admiration and concern. “Jack, I want you to take the duty.”

  Jack looked back to the Chitin device and nodded.

  “Copy that,” Jack said. He tapped a control panel and zeroed the display in on the Chitin device. It grew to fill the holostage.

  “The Scorpio will slow, but I cannot stop her completely.” Pretorius looked at Jack with a firm expression. “You’ll need to get in, lay your charges, and get out in a short window or you won’t be able to get back to the ship.”

  “Draw weapons, ammunition, and demolition charges,” Griff said to Jack. “I’ll let you select your team. Do you know who you want to take?”

  Jack looked again at the facility. Hopefully, he wouldn’t meet much resistance. They would have the element of surprise, but Jack knew he would need Marines he could trust in a fight. The mission was a stealth operation, so he’d need someone who could move quickly and quietly. He’d need someone with a degree of brute strength to help get through that Chitin hull. And Jack wanted to have someone along who understood the Chitin technology.

  “I’ll assemble my team and be ready to go in thirty minutes.” Jack looked closely at the holoimage. There were so many unknowns with this operation. Were there any Chitin soldiers on board? Were there any security systems? Had the Scorpio already been detected? So much could go wrong. There was so much that needed to go right. Jack and his team needed to cross open space, gain entry, plant the charges, and get back before the Scorpio left them behind.