Forged in Darkness (Jack Forge, Fleet Marine Book 4) Read online

  Forged in Darkness

  A Jack Forge, Fleet Marine Story

  James David Victor

  Fairfield Publishing

  Copyright © 2018 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

  Prologue

  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

  Thank You

  Prologue

  Standing in the muster area for 6th squad, surrounded by the people he’d come to know better than any alive. Jack knew he was as close to home as he would ever get, and he didn’t want to leave.

  Jack had been through the cruelest training of any squad of Marines in the history of the fleet. He had fought for his life in some of the war’s most bitter battles. Through all of it, Jack and 6th squad had lived, eaten, trained, slept, and fought together. Now Jack was being taken away from them. After all they’d been through, saying good-bye was almost too much.

  “I’ll miss you guys,” Jack said, looking at the faces all around. All were smiling and happy for Jack, one of their own.

  “Don’t worry,” Torent said, punching Jack hard on the upper arm, “you won’t be going far. We’ll still get to keep an eye on you.”

  Jack rubbed his arm where Torent had punched him. “You get flogged for striking an officer.”

  “You’re not an officer yet, Jacky.” Torent smiled and punched Jack again, good and hard.

  Jack raised his fists and fixed Torent with a cold stare. Torent raised his fists and faced off with Jack. He bobbed and swayed, light on his feet, ready to dodge a punch and ready to land one of his own.

  Jack let his right fist uncurl into an open palm. Torent dropped his guard and clasped Jack’s hand in his own. “I’m proud of you, Jack. Who’d have thought a soft lad like you would make it?”

  6th squad moved in around the pair. Osho placed her hand over Jack and Torent’s. Bubble, Terry, and Jenks did the same. They patted Jack on the back or ruffled his hair and congratulated him before shoving him out of the door.

  A new Marine, a replacement to 6th squad, stepped over to the tight group.

  “Is that really Jack Forge?” the new Marine asked Torent.

  Torent turned on the recruit. “You call me squad leader, or boss, you get me, hayseed?” Torent barked, staring down at the young replacement.

  “Sorry, squad leader,” the replacement said as he stepped away and sat with his fellow newbie.

  “I’m telling you, that was Jack Forge,” he told his friend quietly.

  “Jack Forge?” The friend shook his head. “I thought he was a propaganda myth.”

  “That was him. Jack Forge, Scorpio Battalion, Cobra Company, Sixth Squad.”

  “He doesn’t look as if he could destroy a Chitin Leviathan single handed.” The friend took a bite of a ration bar.

  “You ever seen a Chitin Leviathan?” the replacement asked.

  “No. Have you ever seen a hero before?”

  The replacements sat and watched the rest of 6th squad standing around the muster point. The entire squad was made of seasoned veterans, each and every one of them. Battle-hardened friends and warriors. The replacements didn’t know it, but they had the fortune to end up in a squad of heroes.

  Torent came and stood in front of the replacements. “Listen up, hayseeds. Get on your feet. We’re going into the VR deck. We need to get you replacements through some training sims and up to speed before we meet the enemy for real. You ready to shred some Chits?”

  1

  The officers’ lounge was situated next to the command deck. Soundproof walls and decks, padded with noise-canceling fabric, created a quiet haven in the heart of the Scorpio. Several large, soft chairs and polished timber tables were dotted around the open space. Jack felt the background hum of the Scorpio fall away as he stepped into the comfortable lounge.

  Commander Griff welcomed Jack with an outstretched hand. “You sure you’re ready to give up the cushy life of a Marine?”

  Jack shook his head and smiled. “No, sir.”

  Griff smiled back. “You don’t have to call me sir anymore, Jack. Call me Harry.”

  “I haven’t been made up yet,” Jack said

  “Too late to get out of it now.” Trace Matavesi stepped over. “Well done, Jack,” she said. “Call me Trace.”

  Jack nodded. He felt uncertain. It felt strange using the commanders’ first names. He tried them on for size.

  “Thank you, Harry,” Jack said, his voice catching in his throat. “Thank you, Trace,” he said, gaining confidence.

  Jack had only ever seen Trace Matavesi on parade with the rest of the battalion. She was tall with broad shoulders, possibly the result of biotech enhancements. Her platinum blonde hair framed a pretty face with cold, gray steel eyes and full lips. Her handshake was firm but warm.

  “Captain on deck,” Griff called out. Jack snapped to attention and noticed that Griff and Matavesi did so also.

  Captain Pretorius walked into the officers’ lounge and saluted. “As you were,” he said, then walked to the drink cabinet and poured himself a tumbler of water. “We’re waiting for Agent Visser. She’ll be overseeing the official promotion procedure.” Pretorius looked over at Jack.

  Jack felt the captain’s stare. Pretorius was tall and slim. His face was a mass of deep wrinkles. A scar over one eye merged with the wrinkles over his forehead and cheeks. Jack avoided the captain’s stare.

  “Jack Forge,” Pretorius said. He placed his tumbler down and stepped over to Jack. “Good to finally meet you.” He extended his hand.

  “Yes, sir,” Jack said and shook the captain’s hand. “You too, sir. It is an honor, sir.”

  Jack noticed Griff and Matavesi smile at Jack’s nervousness.

  “Calm down, son,” Pretorius said. “Relax or you’ll strain something.”

  The sound of footsteps drew everyone’s attention. Striding into the lounge came Agent Visser. She saluted the captain with a swift, stiff, and yet somehow casual salute. “Sorry to keep you, Captain,” she said. “You can proceed.”

  Captain Pretorius stood to one side of the lounge and spoke in a clear, calm voice. “I’d like to keep things pretty informal on this occasion. As you know, the battalion major would be responsible for awarding a field promotion, but unfortunately, Major Cruz was lost in the action on Proxis at the Battle of Drydock. So, it falls to me, with Agent Visser as observer, to perform this very special act. Marine Jack Forge, if you would step forward, please.”

  Jack stepped toward the captain.

  Pretorius pulled a small box out of his pocket and held it in front of him. “As recognition for your act of bravery and courage under fire, the Fleet Marine Division has seen fit to award you the Platinum Star.”

  Pretorius opened the box and showed off the small glittering white star. Pretorius took it out of the box and pinned it to Jack’s lapel. He returned the empty box to his pocket and then took anothe
r, similar box out of his other jacket pocket.

  “And now, Jack Forge, having shown exceptional leadership and solid tactical awareness in battle, the Fleet Marine division appoints you to the rank of commander, with all the rights and responsibilities of that rank.”

  Pretorius opened the second box and showed it to the officers in the room, and then finally to Jack.

  “It is with great pleasure that I hereby promote you to commander.”

  Pretorius pinned the small golden stripe next to the platinum star on Jack’s tatty lapel. The captain stepped back and saluted. Jack returned the salute and noticed the others saluting him as well. It was a proud moment. Commander Griff, an officer and veteran of dozens of engagements, saluting him, Commander Trace Matavesi, the hero of Boa Company, who fought on bravely after losing over half her company during the Battle of Drydock, saluting him, Agent Visser, Fleet Intelligence, saluting him, and finally, Captain Pretorius, one of the fleet’s most respected captains and veteran of countless engagements, saluting him. Jack was filled with pride. He’d never wanted to be a Marine, but now he knew he couldn’t be anything else.

  The captain dropped his salute and offered Jack his hand in a warm handshake while the others applauded and stepped up to welcome their new brother officer.

  “Before I let you go,” Pretorius said, “the fleet will send a replacement major as soon as possible. Until then, you commanders will have to muddle through as best you can, but Commander Griff has seniority and until a replacement major is in post, he will be Acting Battalion Commanding Officer.”

  The officers all congratulated Griff on his temporary assignment. He shrugged it off with humility and humor.

  “Don’t think just because I’m acting CO I want to hear all of your complaining,” Griff said jovially. “My standing orders are to sort out your own problems and don’t make work for me.”

  “What is our current operational status, Captain?” Visser asked.

  “We are holding position in the Monarch Carrier Group, but I am expecting orders from Fleet Command at the top of the next watch.”

  Pretorius tugged his cuffs. “Make sure your companies are at full readiness, Commanders. We don’t know what we’ll be asked to do next, but I think we can expect to be in action soon enough.”

  “Maybe the Scorpio will be placed in spacedock for a total refit,” Griff said with a smile.

  “And the battalion stood down for a week’s rest and recuperation on Eros,” Matavesi added.

  “Or maybe we’ll be expected to do our duty and take the fight to the enemy,” Visser said coldly.

  Pretorius tugged his cuffs again. “Oh, Corli,” Pretorius said, admonishing the agent. “Let them have an hour off, for krav’s sake.”

  2

  Walking along the empty corridors of the Scorpio was a familiar pastime for Jack. Walking along the corridors and receiving salutes from crewmen was entirely new. The feelings of responsibility and authority started to grow. There was one place on the ship where rank stood for very little, where only ability counted—only one place where Jack would be treated the same as ever, whether he was admiral or crewman. Jack turned the corridor and stepped through the large double-doors into the maintenance hangar.

  Slim had his head inside a large machine unit, stripped out of its position in the Scorpio’s guts and brought here for work. Sarah Reyes stood behind him, holding a variety of power tools.

  “Kravin thing’s completely burnt out,” Slim said, his voice echoing inside the unit. “Hand me a photon shunt.”

  Reyes turned to the workbench behind her and picked up an item. She held it up and studied it, turning it this way and that. “This one looks a bit worn,” Reyes said. “Have we got any new shunts in the stock?”

  “How long have you worked here?” Slim stuck his hand out. “Let’s hope we can get a few light-months out of this one.”

  Reyes turned to hand over the item. She spotted Jack.

  His heart fluttered when her dark eyes fell on him. He was almost more nervous now than meeting the captain, and certainly more excited. He was more anxious than facing a Chitin soldier, yet happier than he could ever hope to be. This was the conundrum of Sarah Reyes.

  “You want to give me that shunt or what?”

  Reyes handed it over without looking and then stepped toward Jack. “How was the ceremony?”

  “Quiet,” Jack said, stepping closer.

  The pair stood quietly. Glancing at each other nervously. Shuffling toward each other cautiously.

  “What the krav is that?” Slim walked over, wiping his hands on a dirty cloth. “Is that some work-shy officer on my deck?” Slim held out his hand.

  “You got any coffee?” Jack said, shaking Slim’s hand.

  “You know where it is,” Slim said with a smile. “Three mugs, please.”

  Jack walked over to the coffee jug on the thermoplate. A collection of grubby mugs was scattered around the jug, each with its own design or slogan.

  “The best coffee on the ship,” Jack said, handing Slim a mug of the strong brew. “And the worst people.”

  “Must be why we can’t keep you away,” Slim said and took a gulp.

  “Happy to have you here, Jack,” Reyes said as Jack handed her a mug of coffee.

  Pouring the thick black liquid into a mug, Jack thought of the first time he’d been sent here. He’d resented being given a low-level maintenance post, but it hadn’t taken him long to discover that the maintenance department was as responsible for the effective operation of the Scorpio as the command officers. In fact, those who truly understood maintenance knew they were even more important.

  The team was small, but they held detailed knowledge of every ship system. Slim could strip any system, repair, and replace it in his sleep, and maintain the Scorpio at combat readiness. Reyes was a true mechanical genius. She could dissect an unfamiliar system in moments, and she had a knack for making unorthodox repairs. She was the only human yet to successfully work with Chitin equipment.

  Jack raised his mug to the maintenance team, a team who would always have respect for Jack, no matter what his rank. He had been one of them. It was a small team and they didn’t forget one of their own.

  Slim and Reyes knocked their mugs into Jack’s as they said their motto together. “They bend it. We mend it.”

  “Seriously,” Slim said. “Well done, Jack. I always knew you’d get the worst jobs.”

  Reyes just smiled.

  Slim put his mug down and turned to Reyes. “So much for R and R, and coffee with the upper kravin echelon, I’ve got to get that system put back together.” He put his hand on Reyes’s shoulder. His tone suddenly turned serious. “You want to show him?” he said heavily, uncertainly.

  Jack looked at Slim. “Show me what?” he said with a laugh. He looked at Reyes, who was carefully putting her mug down. “Show me what?” Jack repeated with growing concerned.

  Jack followed Reyes to a workbench. Reyes tapped a control panel on the side of the bench and called up a holodisplay blank feed. Reyes tapped a few instructions into the controls and the blankness resolved into an image.

  Looking closely, Jack saw it was the med bay. He recognized the lines of compartments and the medidrone moving along the central aisle.

  “Why are you showing me this?” Jack asked.

  Reyes tapped another key and zoomed in on one compartment. She increased the resolution to show Jack the occupant.

  “I was running a standard diagnostic on the internal communications at the top of this watch. It is about three months overdue and we had some bugs in the system. I spotted him when I was checking the feed. Slim saw I was shocked to see him. I told him, Jack. I told him everything.”

  Jack looked over at Slim, who was back at work, head and shoulders in the machine unit. Jack knew he could trust Slim. Jack knew that he and Reyes were trusting Slim with their lives.

  “How the krav did he get on board?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve tried t
o access his medical info, but he’s not registered. I can’t find out what’s wrong with him. But I did scan back through the logs and found out he was brought in just after the Battle of Drydock. Him and one other Marine.”

  Reyes showed Jack the image of the second Marine, and Jack recognized him instantly. It was someone from his old training squad, the first person Jack had spoken to. A Marine who only ever seemed to want to turn one Marine against another. Jack would never forget the face of Bill Harts.

  “Do you know him?” Reyes asked.

  “We spent a long time together. That’s Bill Harts, a sneaky little scroat.”

  “What about him?” Reyes said, pointing back to Commander Finch. “If he tells them what we did...” she trailed off.

  Jack hadn’t felt any remorse for what happened to Finch. He was a bad leader and bad Marine, narrow-minded and arrogant. Jack had lived for the last few months believing that he and Reyes had killed him. Jack was sure if Finch hadn’t been killed, the Battle of Kratos Fuel Station would have ended in disaster for 6th squad, and for the Scorpio too. Jack hadn’t lost any sleep. But now it seemed Finch was alive. It made Jack feel more than a little uneasy.

  “If he had said anything, we would be in an interrogation suite already.” Jack studied the image. Finch was conscious. “Has he spoken to anyone?”

  “He had one visit from Agent Visser when he arrived. I was able to listen in. He said he had been cut off from his squad during the battle. It looks like his distress signal was picked up by a corvette on perimeter watch during the Battle of Drydock. He’d been stranded there for weeks.”