Jack Forge, Fleet Marine Boxed Set (Books 1 - 9)

by James David Victor

  The sounds of fear rippled through the squad. Then the first recruit ran.

  It was a young woman, short hair and long eyelashes. She ran back in the direction of the bunkhouse. Hacker was on his feet.

  “Leave her,” Crippin said. “I am going to need you here, Sergeant, more than I’ll need her.” Crippin crawled to the front of the line. “Listen up, squad. If you run, you will die. If we run, we will get picked off one by one. If we stay together, we have a chance. Pick your targets. Hold your fire. Wait for my command. We are going to kill a whole bunch of Chitin scum. They are coming fast, and they’ll be here soon. But they don’t know what we’ve got waiting for them. We’re going to shred them all. You get me?”

  Another recruit began to scurry away. It was Torent’s ugly ally. Torent was on him in a flash. He grabbed him and dragged him down in between him and Jack. The smell of urine was apparent. Jack watched the Chitin advance and made a promise not to piss himself.

  “Get ready, Marines,” Crippin shouted. “Here they come. Open fire!”

  14

  The crackle of rifle fire rippled across the summit of the hill. Jack saw through his sights that the rounds were hitting the Chitins as they rushed forward. They came on in a tightly packed bunch and it was almost impossible to miss, but the damage inflicted was low. Jack picked his target and aimed for the round mouthpiece of the Chitin soldiers. He saw the teeth splinter and get shot out of the mouths of all his targets, but still they came on. Jack targeted the smooth head and fired several rounds into another Chitin soldier. The bullets smashed into the head, throwing up spurts of thin orange liquid.

  “Keep firing,” Crippin shouted.

  Jack saw the front of the advancing mass of soldiers pause. A strange hum began and then Jack saw the pulsing plasma growing on the tips of the weapons the Chitin soldiers held. The hum grew to a high-pitched whine, then the plasma spears shot forward.

  Jack was mesmerized by the lights that flickered toward him. The orange and white threads of plasma arced upward before flicking forward. The plasma spears lashed at the summit of the hill, exploding the rock in front of Jack in a burst of red-hot dust. The recruit next to Jack was lacerated and split in two from his left shoulder to hip. The blood that spilled out boiled. The smell of charred flesh filled Jack’s nostrils.

  A recruit along the line shrieked in terror. He dropped his rifle as he stood and turned to run. He was caught by the tip of a plasma spear. The tip lost its focus and frayed into a number of finer, dimmer plasma threads. The frayed ends scraped across the screaming recruit, ripping away clothes and skin. Then the recruit fell forward toward the plasma spear and was sliced in two.

  “Keep firing,” Crippin shouted.

  Jack fired a number of shots into the head of his target. The Chitin thrashed about and fell and then scurried away under the tentacles of another who came forward to take its place. Jack fired another short burst, smashing into the smooth head and toothed mouth of this new front-line Chitin.

  Then the plasma spears leaped forward again.

  The light on the opposite horizon grabbed Jack’s attention. He saw fire leaping into the sky.

  “Alpha Training Base,” Crippin said. “We’re surrounded.”

  “We need to get mobile, sir,” Jack said to Crippin. “If we get surrounded, we are done for.”

  “But we’ve got the high ground,” Torent said.

  “All that means is we’ll die on a hill,” Jack said.

  “Jack’s right,” Crippin agreed. “We need to move. We have to avoid getting surrounded, hill or no hill. But we have no way of knowing where they are.”

  “Air reconnaissance,” Jack said. “We can spot them from the air.”

  “We don’t have air power, Forge. Scorpio is still too far out.”

  “Not the Scorpio, sir.” Jack pointed toward the workshop down the hill. “If I can get that drone airborne...”

  “Nice idea, Forge, but there are no power cells,”

  Jack held his rifle side on. “Here, I can use the power cell in this rifle.”

  Sergeant Hacker looked at Jack and then at Crippin. They both shrugged.

  “What harm can it do to try? Go, Forge, and take Torent with you.” Crippin fired off a quick burst. “And if you can drop any ordinance on that Chitin scum, that would be a plus. Go. Now.”

  Jack scurried back from the summit as another spread of plasma spears scorched the summit.

  Jack ran and dismantled his rifle as he went.

  “What are you doing with that rifle, Forge?” Torent called as they ran.

  “The Fleet Marine Pulse Rifle is powered by a micro fusion reactor. It should have enough power to get that old reconnaissance drone off the ground.” Jack threw the parts of the rifle away and found the power cell.

  Jack and Torent ran into the workshop. Torent moved around the building, rifle raised, as he searched the area.

  “Clear,” he shouted.

  Jack rushed to the front of the old drone and searched out the access panel for the power cell.

  “It doesn’t fit.”

  “Wedge it in, Jack. We have got to get them off that hill.”

  “I can’t just wedge it in. I need to fix it in somehow.” Jack picked his way through the debris of the workshop. He found an old solder iron. “This could work. But I need some soft metal to fuse the cell to the craft.”

  “So find some,” Torent said. He walked quickly to the door and looked through it down his gun sights. “Get it working, Jack.”

  “I’ve already been through every piece of junk in this place. There’s nothing I can use.”

  Torent walked up to Jack and grabbed him by the shoulder. “You’re supposed to be the smart one, right? Don’t suppose Chitins care whose brains they melt but I’d rather they didn’t melt mine, so use your brains and fix the damn power cell in there and I’ll keep watch.”

  “Watch,” Jack said, his voice failing.

  “Yes, I’ll keep watch.” Torent scanned the view outside the workshop.

  Jack picked out his small package from his pocket and unwrapped his family silver watch. “My watch.”

  “Whatever you are going to do, do it fast. Chitins at twelve o’clock.”

  Jack snapped the back off. He popped out the mechanism, with its creamy face and fine hands. The solder iron was hot in a second. Jack held the power cell in place and carefully melted the silver case of his family watch.

  The sound of Torent’s rifle fire startled Jack. The Chits were close. Jack activated the power supply and the craft lurched upward.

  “They’re coming,” Torent said. “Send that thing.”

  “I need a way to pilot it,” Jack said. It was a remote reconnaissance drone and needed some human input. A spare user headset was found in one of the broken pieces of equipment. It took a moment to calibrate the headset to the drone.

  “This should do it,” Jack said.

  “So do it.” Torent laid down a sustained fire.

  “It’s dangerous. I haven’t got a neural processor. I need to buffer the information. I might get overloaded.”

  “You’ll be dead for sure if you don’t try something.” Torent closed the door and stepped back into the workshop, taking cover behind a workbench.

  Jack put the headset on.

  A mass of information flooded Jack’s mind. There was reconnaissance information and the drone had at one point been linked to the training moon’s many surveillance systems. All the information that had ever been collected on the moon flooded into Jack’s mind.

  It was an impossible mix of information. Jack watched recruits arriving on transport vessels, coming in as raw hayseeds and leaving as newly qualified Marines. The training time had been longer in the past. Recruits were coming in smaller numbers and being shipped out after shorter and shorter training programs.

  Jack saw his brother. He had trained here too. And there was Crippin, shouting into his face.

  Jack was suddenly present in Crippin
’s office. A fleet captain was visiting. Crippin was being told that the Chitins were powerful. Humans were being pushed back. Destroyers were being lost at an unsustainable rate. A carrier had been destroyed. The war was being lost.

  Jack saw himself arrive at the moon training base. He looked sad. He looked alone.

  Then Jack saw his watch through the bunkhouse surveillance. It was being taken from the hiding place in his bunk and was being placed in Torent’s bunk. The data showed Jack who had moved the watch: it was Bill Harts. Bill had hidden his watch in Torent’s bunk. Jack saw the dispute between Torent and himself over the watch and there was Bill Harts, sitting back on his bunk and enjoying the show.

  “Jack!” Torent shouted. “Jack. Wake up or I’ll put a round through your messed-up brain.”

  “I have control,” Jack said. He wiped away the trickle of blood that dribbled out of his nose.

  The drone leapt up and smashed through the roof. The targeting display picked out the advancing Chitins. Jack accessed the fire controls. The drone was minimally armed but it should be enough to destroy the few Chits outside. The drone’s cannons purred and the Chitin’s bodies burst as the incendiary rounds burned them from the inside out.

  Then Jack was flying, skimming the craft centimeters above the rocky surface. He was at the hill in a moment. Jack saw the line of recruits still firing down the other side. Jack skirted around the hill and came up on a position flanking the line of Chitin soldiers advancing on the hill.

  The canons purred again and scorched the front line of the Chitins.

  The plasma whips flashed toward the drone. Without a neural processor, Jack could not handle all the information. He was slow. A plasma lance sliced through the port side of the drone. Jack pulled away, firing a hail of bullets from the small store of kinetic rounds. They tore through the Chitins as he retreated.

  The signal was received by the communications office and routed through the drone to Jack. It was from the Destroyer Scorpio.

  “Attention all personnel. Evac from Beta Training Base parade ground in five minutes.”

  “We need to get to the hill,” Jack said to Torent. His speech seemed slow and slurred. “Evac inbound. We need to tell them. We only have a few minutes.”

  “We can’t get there in that time.”

  Then the drone crashed back in through the hole in the roof.

  “Climb on,” Jack said. “And hold tight.”

  The drone arrived at the hill. Crippin was walking behind the line of recruits, who were all in the dirt laying down a well-ordered and disciplined fire.

  “That’s it. You’ve got them dug in now. They don’t want this hill as badly as they first thought.”

  Torent dived into the dirt amongst the recruits and opened fire. Jack gave Crippin the news.

  “Evac?” she said. “Thought I would serve out my time on this hill.” She patted Jack on the shoulder. “Good work, Forge. Scout the route back to the parade ground. Make sure there are no Chits waiting for us, then secure the landing area.” As Jack ran off down the hill, he heard Crippin shouting orders. “Sergeant Hacker, take this squad down the hill. Tactical withdrawal.”

  The recruits came running toward the parade ground. Jack scouted the area ahead with the drone. The Chitins were closing in on all sides around the training complex. Crippin and Hacker were falling back toward the training complex, firing as they went. The few remaining Chitin soldiers were approaching more cautiously, but they were lashing out with their plasma spears.

  Sergeant Hacker yelled in pain as his right leg was ripped off by a spear that coiled around his knee. Crippin grabbed the sergeant and dragged him backward, firing her rifle one-handed at the Chitins as she went. A spear flashed out and took her rifle arm at the elbow.

  Jack piloted the drone between Crippin and the chits. He faced off against the chits and fired the last few remaining rounds. Kinetic rounds, incendiary rounds, and finally a mid-yield explosive that threw up rock and dust and Chitin flesh.

  The rescue craft came down on the parade ground. A gun on the upper hull was firing bursts, hundreds of rounds per second. In the distance, Jack saw the rocky surface of the moon throwing up clouds of dust as the rounds struck. An officer ran out of the rescue craft and called the recruits aboard.

  “Lieutenant Crippin,” Jack shouted.

  “Get in, Jack,” Torent shouted from the ramp. “Get in,”

  Jack piloted the drone to the stricken sergeant and lieutenant. He hovered the drone low to the ground and let Crippin and Hacker climb aboard. Carefully and as quickly as he could, Jack brought the drone and its human cargo to the rescue craft.

  “We’ve got incoming,” the rescue craft officer shouted. He grabbed Jack by the collar and dragged him aboard. Jack watched through the drone sensors as a plasma spear struck from orbit. A huge Chitin craft appeared and eclipsed the distant sun. The massive plasma spears scoured the moon surface, throwing dust and rock into the thin atmosphere.

  Jack gripped his head. His eyes burned from the inside as the information from the plasma spear strike flooded his brain. And then he lost contact with the drone. The sudden end of the data stream was as disorientating as when he first accessed it. Exhaustion hit and Jack collapsed, unconscious.

  The first thing Jack noticed when he came around was the noise, the distant hum of the fusion drive. The second thing was the cold of the deck. He looked about and saw he was in a hangar deck aboard a destroyer. The hangar was neat and clean, except for the ragged recruits covered in dust and blood. An officer walked in front of the assembled recruits.

  “At ease, trash bags. Welcome aboard the Scorpio. You have had the shortest and most brutish training any squad in the Fleet Marine Division has ever been through. You have all proven yourselves in the face of the enemy. It’s my duty to award you your Fleet Marine stripe.”

  Jack nudged Torent. “You still think they’ll make you an officer?”

  Torent held out a hand with a smile and pulled Jack off the deck. “You still think you’re too smart to be a Marine?”

  Jack fell silent as the officer came up to him. He struggled to stay on his feet as he saluted. Torent held him steady as the officer pinned a Fleet Marine stripe on his chest. He’d never wanted to be a soldier, but now he knew the only way out was either in a body bag or by beating the Chitins. Next time he met them, he would be ready.

  Forged in Space

  A Jack Forge, Fleet Marine Story

  Prologue

  The System Fleet Command and Control Center was situated one kilometer beneath the surface of Eros’s north pole. Admiral Henson felt safe from the Chitin threat so far beneath the most heavily defended location of the most heavily defended planet in the system. That sense of safety bred confidence. This was the perfect place to plan system-wide operations against the Chitins.

  Henson stood in front of the large holostage at the center of the operations room. With him stood the Chief of Operations Rear Admiral Tel Jackman and Fleet Commander Rear Admiral Victor Orlov.

  The display showed the current deployment of fleet vessels throughout the system. The star burned as a pinpoint of light at the center of the display, thousands of times smaller in scale than the planets that were displayed in their current positions around the star.

  The three carriers of the fleet were lit in different colors and the flotillas attached to those carriers, from destroyers down to corvette class ships, were all marked in the same color as their command carrier.

  “Show me that moon again,” Henson said.

  The display reframed and placed the system’s inner most gas giant, Penthus, at the center of the display, a huge hot gas giant that glowed with its strange brown light. Around Penthus orbited its moons. The small, swiftly-moving inner moon, Proxis, was a barren rock. Then came Polemos, a radioactive world that orbited in an exaggerated ellipse on a plane inclined to the ecliptic by almost thirty degrees. It was a moon with a violent history. Then came the last major moon of the Penthus sy
stem, Kratos.

  Kratos orbited Penthus at a huge distance compared to the other moons. From its surface, Penthus looked like a second brown star. The moon was perpetually washed with light, either from the system’s central star or from the planet that glowed with its own dull brown light, the product of extreme friction heating the gas in the upper atmosphere. Days on Kratos lasted for months. Nights were brutally cold, but mercifully short. The atmosphere was thin and toxic. It was a nasty, barren world.

  “Kratos is quite far out. A garrison will have to be pretty self-sufficient.” Henson leaned against the display and looked at the small holoimage of the moon.

  “The Chitin home world, Zelos, is currently at its furthest point from Penthus and will be for decades to come,” Rear Admiral Jackman said. “Our people will be further from the Chitin threat than any other human in the system.”

  “But if danger does come, we are going to be too far spread to support them.” Rear Admiral Orlov tapped the holostage and reframed the display to show the whole system. He then highlighted the fleet. “We are already spread too thin to protect ourselves. We just lost another frigate on a supposedly safe supply run.” Orlov looked at Henson and spoke as firmly as he dared. “Admiral, we need to fall back and concentrate our power. We should be planning a crushing attack on these Chits, not sending ships to the outer reaches of our territory.”

  “Vic,” Jackman said with a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Hit them where? They evade us when we try and engage, hit us when we try to evade. We need a surveillance facility and this moon is the perfect spot.”

  “Surveillance? We need ships to kill the enemy, and I won’t waste another fighter on a pointless expedition to nowhere.”

  “Gentlemen.” Admiral Henson called his advisors to order with a low growl. “We need to find them to fight them. We need to level the field. This moon is the opportunity we need. Victor—” Henson turned to his fleet commander. “—we need to support this operation. You will allocate a destroyer to the task.”