Infamy (The Mythrar War Book 2)

by Douglas Wayne

  Contents

  Infamy

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Intrepid

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Intrepid

  End of Book Shit

  About the Author

  More Reading

  Infamy

  The Mythrar War Series

  Book Two

  Luke Simms

  Douglas Wayne

  INFAMY

  THE MYTHRAR WAR SERIES

  BOOK TWO

  Luke Simms

  Douglas Wayne

  Copyright © 2017 by Luke Simms and Douglas Wayne. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events or locales is purely coincidental. Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

  Click or visit:

  douglaswayne.com

  To G and K,

  You are the reason this book exists. Don't stop dreaming until you reach the stars.

  And to those we lost on December 7, 1941. A day that will always live in infamy.

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  And receive a copy of the prequel novella, Intrepid for free

  You will also receive updates when new books in the series are released, including Infamy and Reliant in 2017

  Chapter One

  Gibraltar Sector

  CIC, Gibraltar Station

  "Six ships approaching at full thrust. Should be here within the next ten minutes." The sensor operator glared back at Admiral Rivers as he punched in the commands on his console.

  "Very well. See that armed guards are posted at each of the docking tubes. Make sure nobody gets through. The last thing we need is a diplomatic incident."

  Tensions between the NEC and the EU were at an all-time high as an ever increasing number of EU ships had been involved in jump gate attacks over the past few weeks. Most of the higher ups knew the attacks were not the fault of the EU. The fact that EU ships were being used in the attacks did nothing to calm their tensions.

  The truth was, a new alien race had found them. A race known as the Klyptons. Why they had hijacked over sixty ships over the last few months was still a mystery. Surely a race capable of interstellar travel had the means to create their own ships. But so far, none of those ships had been found.

  Whispers through the ranks told stories about the new alien threat, how they were a precursor to the real threat. A threat that had taken Earth from them a century ago. But so far, no signs of the Mythrar had been found.

  Admiral Rivers paced the command deck, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his guests. The EU was sending some of its top advisers and diplomats to meet with some of the top brass from the NEC and secretary of the state, Ramona Simpson. They hoped to ease tensions between the two factions before they brought the long-time allies to war.

  "Sir, ships are within docking range. The EUS Claymore is requesting permission to dock."

  Rivers nodded. "Direct them to docking arm six," he said without hesitation. "The rest spread around the station as necessary, keeping their ships to the same side of the station." Keeping the two groups segregated was more of a precaution than a necessity, but it was easy to pull off considering the NEC ships had docked together near Gibraltar Three, the rocky crag of a planet in a system dominated by gas giants.

  Rivers watched as the Claymore slowed its thrust as it closed with the station. As if welcoming an old friend, the space bridge extended from the arm and attached itself to the side of the ship. A puff of gas leaked from the connection as the bridge filled with oxygen for their expected guests.

  A few moments after the Claymore docked, the rest of the ships followed suit, each approaching docking arms on the same side of the station. He watched with bated breath as each of the space bridges extended, allowing their passengers to disembark.

  "Sir, all EU ships are docked and accounted for. I'm closing the station to additional guests for the duration of the convention."

  Rivers nodded and strode back to his chair in the center of the bridge. With every guest accounted for, there was nothing left for him to do other than wait for the convention to be over. Nothing except listen to the incessant whining from the two dozen ships orbiting the station, each waiting for a chance to dock and resupply before whatever voyages they might have.

  He supposed the job could be worse. Other than not having a definite time frame to relay back to the angry pilots, there wasn't much left to do. Each side brought along its security detail, allowing him to schedule his security forces a few extra rest shifts. He'd make it up to the others later in the week, after dealing with the madhouse that'll happen when they opened the station to the public.

  Leaning back in his chair, he took one last look at the radar before retreating to his quarters for a nap. Most everything was as expected though there was one detail out of place.

  "Ensign, are you sure each one of the EU guests was accounted for?"

  "Yes, sir. Double and triple checked the manifests to make sure." Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and her face went pale. For the most part, she was good at her job, though there had been a few incidents in the past. Rivers expected the occasional problem though she had a knack of screwing up big time. Her last screw up nearly saw the station ripped apart as two rival corporations turned the station into a battleground. It had taken two months of repairs and renovations before the station opened to the public again.

  "Then what is that ship doing out there?" He pulled up the most recent scan of the system and put it on the main viewscreen in the center of the room. With a few quick taps on his console, he brought up a video of the ship as it held its position a few kilometers away from the station.

  Ensign Diamond swore under her breath as she tapped on he
r console. "That ship is not part of the EU delegation. Perhaps they brought it along in case the NEC tried something."

  Rivers shrugged. "Doubt it. They would've sent word well ahead of its arrival. It's more likely that it happened to be out this way and is in need of resupply. Open a comm with their captain. Ask them the reason for their untimely visit," he said, leaning back. "And please word it more tactfully than that."

  Chapter Two

  Gibraltar Sector

  CIC, Gibraltar Station

  "Admiral Rivers, no response from the York. Should I try again?"

  No response from the York? Surely someone on the ship had heard the comm. There was no way in this day and age that a military vessel, especially a heavy cruiser like the York, did not have auxiliary communication systems. Shit, he doubted the ship wouldn't have another communication system just to limit potential problems like this.

  "Fine. Try every known band. Give them one last chance to respond before we take other precautions." Rivers wasn't sure what other measures he could take, given their present company, but he still had to do something.

  He waited patiently while Diamond did as he asked. What the hell is taking so long? There is no damned way they aren't receiving the transmission on one of the bands.

  Then it hit him. Wasn't this one of the ships that had come up missing the last few months? Surely they wouldn't be so stupid as to bring the ship here, during a meeting as important as this.

  "Ensign?"

  "Still nothing, Admiral. Perhaps…"

  "No," he interrupted. "Don't waste your time trying again. Instead, I want you to pull the transponder codes from the ship. Cross reference them on both the NEC and EU databases and let me know what you find."

  "What are you expecting to find?" his XO, Commander Dennis Stevens said from his console in the corner of the room.

  "Call it a hunch, but I believe the York may be one of the missing ships." Rivers watched the screen as his XO pulled up the data he'd requested. Within moments the data was being patched over to his screen. Sure enough, the York had been reported missing three weeks prior. The last time the ship had been seen was in the Atroxxin sector, having departed towards uncharted space after a skirmish with the NECS Endeavor.

  Stevens glanced back at him with a knowing look, his eyes asking the same questions as half of his command staff. It is what you think it is, and what are you going to do about it?

  He stood up and considered how to handle the situation best. Sending a team out to board the vessel was out of the question unless he wanted to create a scene in front of his current guests. He couldn't barge into their room and ask for their advice either as he was supposed to be playing the part of the amiable host. It would've made things easier if they'd just said something, but the silence on their end further complicated the issue. As far as he could reasonably know, the York was having communications issues. Unless he pushed the issue, there wasn't much to do until the meeting was over. Until then the best he could do was send a message to the boardroom and await their response.

  Still, he couldn't help feeling like something was wrong. Surely one of the EU ships had noticed the York when they pulled into the station. Even if they didn't, they had to know the ship was here now. Perhaps not the people in charge, but one of the captains or some of the lower ranking command staff.

  "Ensign, I'd like you to check one more thing for me. I need you to check the transponder codes on the docked EU ships. Like the York, I want you to cross reference their codes with every available report from both the NEC and the EU." He started to walk away, but quickly turned and leaned in close to Diamond's ear. "I need you to be discreet with this. Try your best to cover your tracks. Some people in the delegation may take offense to our snooping around."

  Ensign Diamond nodded. "I should have the reports back to you in a few minutes. Saying everything checks out."

  Rivers nodded. If everything checked out the scans would be a mere technicality. Something that was done to every ship in existence multiple times a day as a precaution, or to determine whether a ship was a threat.

  Still, the matter had to be handled delicately as their whole existence teetered on the edge of a blade. One wrong move and both sides would be at each other's throats within days.

  A few minutes later, Ensign Diamond stood up and cleared her throat.

  "Ensign?"

  "Three of the ships check out, the Claymore, Caligula, and the Vagabond are marked as being on active duty. I've got their full roster including details from their last six months of service if that helps?"

  "It may. Patch it over to my console when you get a chance," he replied. "How about the others?"

  "They," she said, her voice wavering. "They were reported missing just last week. This is the first time they've been seen since."

  "Seems our situation just got critical," he said as calmly as he could muster. It was a challenge considering his heart was beating out of his chest. Being a rear admiral was supposed to come with key benefits, the main being a general lack of action on the military front. The fact that he was facing four, and possibly seven, potentially rogue vessels was unnerving.

  Of course, the fact that Gibraltar Station hadn't been built with defense in mind didn't help. The lack of hospitable planets in the system and a lack of useful resources meant the Gibraltar sector had little to no tactical value outside of the station. Considering the sway the NEC had across human-controlled sectors, it was foolish for anyone to try attacking any NEC station, even one out here.

  "Commander Stevens, you have the bridge," Rivers said as he strode towards the exit.

  "Admiral?" he asked. "Where are you going?"

  "I'm going to check in on the York myself. Call to the shuttle bay and tell Commander O'Brien to prepare a shuttle for immediate departure. Just one pilot, no marine escort this time. If things go tits up, I don't want anyone else to take the fall."

  "What if it does?" he asked, hesitantly. "Goes tits up, that is?"

  Before he could answer a large explosion rang out somewhere in the station, the blast nearly sent him sprawling to the ground. Some of the bridge crew weren't as lucky. Blood and debris covered over half of the crew while the rest recovered from the surprise attack.

  It looks like things are going tits up without my help.

  Chapter Three

  Gibraltar Sector

  CIC, Gibraltar Station

  "Status?" Rivers demanded as he pulled himself back on his feet.

  "Massive damage to docking arm six. The Claymore and the Vagabond took heavy damage too."

  Just what we need. A terrorist attack here, and now out of all times.

  "How about the meeting room? Tell me it avoided the brunt of the attack?"

  Stevens nodded. "It did, though it looks like the meeting has come to an abrupt end. Both sides are retreating towards their ships before there is another explosion."

  "Send whatever people we have available to escort them back to their ships," he said. "Both sides. Offer more help to the EU in case they believe we're responsible."

  Before his XO could reply, another blast rocked the station, this time from the other side. Thankfully, it wasn't as close. It was hardly a consolation as someone was targeting both sides. He rushed back to his station and pulled up the reports that were flowing into the CIC.

  Docking arm three spouted flame and debris into space as a series of explosions rocked the bridges on the NEC side of the base. The explosive concussion caught the NECS Mississippi in its wake, splitting the light cruiser apart at its center. As the two pieces split apart, the larger top half slammed into the nearby Ohio. A series of sparks and secondary explosions erupted over the Ohio until it too exploded.

  Punching in a few commands, he brought up a visual from one of the supply frigates orbiting the station. Most of the station was still intact, other than the three primary docking arms that had taken the brunt of the blasts. Where there once had been three long appendages reaching out from the s
tation were fragmented husks that belched the occasional fireball and electric arc out into space. The muted flames of secondary explosions ripped through the arm and from each of the damaged ships as damage control crews struggled to contain the damage.

  "Commander, send word to the NEC vessels. I want every ship docked with the station to be out of our immediate range in the next ten minutes. They are to load up as many civilians as they can and get the hell out. The same goes for the EU ships. If someone is targeting the station, I want to make sure no other ships are caught in the crossfire."

  Before his commander could even acknowledge the order, two more large blasts rocked the station sending another wave of debris cascading into the bridge. Not far from the spot that had already taken heavy damage, a steel girder ripped free and slammed into Midshipman Craig's head. She was dead before her mind could even register the impact.

  So much death. More than he'd seen in three decades of service. If they'd told him he'd have to deal with situations like this on a daily basis, he wouldn't have reenlisted as often as he had. As it was, he had only signed the papers last time after learning that his ex-wife had run off with what was left of his inheritance, not that there was much left to take. Not only that, the bitch had the nerve to sell off his beach-front property on Europa. How she found out he bought it was beyond him. Apparently, her new lawyer husband was great as his job.

  "Admiral, receiving a transmission from the York. They are asking for you by name."

  "The York?" he asked. "Who the hell would ask for me on the York?"

  "Unknown, Admiral. But he has requested your attention immediately."

  "Fine," he said. "Patch it to my station."

  Seconds later an image of the ship's bridge blinked into view. There was no way for him to be certain it was the bridge on the York, but he took it in good faith that it was. In the background, he heard odd grunts and noises coming from inside the ship. Were they dealing with problems on their ship as well? A quick glance at the main viewscreen told him it was unlikely. Not unless they had someone sabotaging parts of the ship.