Mission: A Military Scifi Epic (Blue Sun Armada Book 3) Read online

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  MISSION

  BOOK 3 IN THE BLUE SUN ARMADA SERIES

  SCOTT MOON

  CONTENTS

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  Book Order

  Book Description

  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

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  What’s Next

  Also by Scott Moon

  About the Author

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  BOOK ORDER

  BLUE SUN ARMADA

  Blue Sun Armada

  Crisis

  Mission

  CHRONICLES OF KIN ROLAND

  Enemy of Man

  Son of Orlan

  Weapons of Earth

  THEY CAME FOR BLOOD

  Invasion Day

  Resistance Day

  Victory Day

  Alien Apocalypse

  A MECH WARRIOR’S TALE

  (SHORTYVERSE)

  Shorty

  Kill Me Now

  Ground Pounder

  Shorty and the Brits

  Fight for Doomsday (A Novel)… coming soon.

  DARKLANDING

  Assignment Darklanding

  Ike Shot the Sheriff

  Outlaws

  Runaway

  An Unglok Murder

  SAGCON

  Race to the Finish

  Boom Town

  A Warrior's Home

  Hunter

  Diver Down

  Empire

  FALL OF PROMISEDALE

  Death by Werewolf

  GRENDEL UPRISING

  Proof of Death

  Blood Royal

  Grendel

  SMC MARAUDERS

  Bayonet Dawn

  Burning Sun

  The Forever Siren

  SON OF A DRAGONSLAYER

  Dragon Badge

  Dragon Attack

  Dragon Land

  TERRAN STRIKE MARINES

  The Dotari Salvation

  Rage of Winter

  Valdar’s Hammer

  The Beast of Eridu

  THE LAST REAPER

  The Last Reaper

  Fear the Reaper

  Blade of the Reaper

  Wings of the Reaper

  Flight of the Reaper

  Wrath of the Reaper

  Will of the Reaper

  Descent of the Reaper

  Hunt of the Reaper

  Bastion of the Reaper

  Soul of the Reaper

  Blood of the Reaper

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  The Blue Sun Armada fights free of enemies on all sides only to learn the worst is yet to come. Void battle claims lives and equipment. Governor Danestar leads a mission to bring the Exactas Meridias online before it left behind. One mistake, and the expedition is doomed.

  Can Ron and his allies survive long enough to complete the Talgar quest that has eluded the Zezner for centuries? Will they find answers, or disaster?

  Join the valiant men and women of the Blue Sun Armada in this military sci-fi adventure to the stars.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Duke Ron Marlboro slid out from under the deck, handed a welding torch to the chief mechanic on duty, Murphy Damocles, and stood like he performed the maneuver every day. Because he did. There was always something to be fixed on the BSA Indomitable, and the Duke enjoyed getting his hands dirty.

  He caught a shop towel Victor tossed his way, then used it to clean the grease from his hands as best could. “Thanks, Murph. I needed a break.” He tossed Murphy the rag and rolled down his sleeves.

  “You call that a break, Duke? Hate to see what you call work,” Murph said, and the crew laughed.

  “Mother will be furious,” Victor said.

  Ron smiled. “She loves me. Don’t let her act fool you, son.”

  “I wouldn’t push your luck. Admiral Roth’s called for you twice and Mother’s threatened to retrieve you personally. I gather she’s handling more than her share of work on the bridge.”

  Ron strode into the hallway, saluting fleet guards as he went. It wasn’t long before he had a semblance of privacy in a long corridor with his youngest son. “Hard work clears my head. Can’t think about the people who died when one wrong turn of the wrench could cost me a hand or get me electrocuted. And I feel like I actually accomplish something when I fix things.”

  “You’re the duke,” Victor said, like maybe his father was a bit off.

  Ron stepped into a lift and smoothed his black uniform fatigues, presenting himself to Victor for inspection. Similar to Ron in face, hair, and swagger, Victor shared his mother’s smaller build. At five feet, ten inches and possessed of an indomitable spirit, he was all Ron wanted from a son. “How do I look?”

  “Like a grease monkey. Mother will love it. She won’t mention the importance of presenting yourself as the leader of humanity’s last hope.” Victor threw an arm around his father. “I’ll stand with you. Together, we can survive this.”

  Ron returned the hug, laughing, feeling good, and ready to shift back into combat mode. Duke Bronc was still out there, unless he was calling himself the King of Gildain already—then he would really want to eliminate House Marlboro and their allies.

  An alert chimed in his bio-comms. “Ron, where are you?” Patricia demanded.

  “On my way to the bridge. Just leaving the flight deck,” Ron said, glad they were on a private channel for this. He wasn’t worried, but their arguments could be fiery. Public spectacles weren’t good for morale. Right now, that mattered more than anything.

  “We picked up multiple distress signals from the battle’s aftermath, but will leave them behind soon. Admiral Roth is about to give the order for maximum speed—which isn’t great with the EM dragging down our average acceleration like an anchor. The point is, these survivors are about to be lost in space unless someone does something now,” Patricia said.

  Ron knew she was right. Felt it in his gut and reversed the lift’s direction. “I’m heading back to the flight deck. I’ll handle it.”

  “I thought you would.” Patricia’s vo
ice was firm. “Rescue as many as you can.”

  “That’s the plan, wife.”

  “Don’t get hurt,” she added.

  “Of course not. The duke’s person must not be banged about,” Ron said. “Everyone knows this.”

  “There is one more thing,” she said, lowering her voice, even though it wasn’t necessary for privacy. “These are Gerard and Atana life pods.”

  “Understood.” He looked at Victor. “We’re needed on the flight deck. The bridge identified more life pods in the debris.”

  “Good thing we were right here. We’ll need every pilot for this.” Victor headed toward his own recovery vehicle the moment the doors to the flight deck opened.

  Ron didn’t need to ask for what he wanted. The prep crews were in high gear, topping off fuel tanks and checking his ship. Ugly but functional, the life pod recovery vessel, or LPRV, was little more than a cockpit and an open cargo space designed for pods to clip into. It looked like the head of a beast with an exposed rib cage and little else.

  Flight checks took less than a minute. The procedure was hardwired almost as completely as that of a activating a mech.

  His pit crew were the best. How they guessed he’d take this spontaneous mission was a mystery. He gave them a salute and was the first rescue vehicle into the void.

  Hundreds of life pods drifted among the debris. He caught them as he came to them, never asking who was inside. His only criteria were if the occupant was alive. When his computer confirmed life signs, he latched onto them like a tackle-ball pass and went to the next.

  Ten life pods later, he turned back. The BSA Indomitable was a sorry sight from this vantage point. Huge sections were gone. Work crews scrambled over the exterior, climbed through holes, and welded like their lives depended on their work. Ron passed no judgment. He suppressed fear and doubt, avoided false hope, and reminded himself that what he had was all he had. The BSA was never going home for repairs and no one would be bringing him additional ships.

  Only when he landed did he see he’d in fact saved eight Atana life pods and two from House Gerard. “Put a security team on these refugees, but treat them fairly.”

  “Right away, Duke.” The security officer of the watch saluted.

  Ron ran his system checks, waited for fuel without leaving his cockpit, and returned to the void. “Patricia, can you give me an update since I’m not there?”

  “It appears Gerard was attempting to race ahead of us even as Bronc betrayed him. We’ll encounter more of these battlefields before we reach the booster rings. The Talgar have pulled away and seem only mildly interested in our existence, much less in helping us. Stephani Spirit’s fleet is moving on a parallel course and have requested the release of their duchess eleven times,” Patricia said.

  “Has Admiral Roth asked for recommendations?”

  “I told him to continue for the booster rings at best speed. Despite the EM making better time, it’s still slowing us down. I don’t know how long we can wait, no matter how valuable it is in terms of resources,” she said.

  “I’ve reached another cluster of pods,” Ron said. “I’ll be home in time for dinner.”

  “You better, Ron Marlboro, or you will feel my wrath.”

  Ron smiled at the humor in her words. God he loved her. “Wouldn’t want that. I’d have to make it up to you.”

  “You would. So get back here. I’ll stay on the bridge until then.”

  “I’ll be there soon. Count on it.” He latched onto another life pod the moment he confirmed signs of life. After that, it was just seeing how quickly he could get the survivors to a capitol ship and get back into the debris field. Every available pilot was doing the same thing. Before long, it became a competition. Fortune and someone from House Longwatch competed for the top slot. Ron worked hard and held a solid position in the top ten percent of the rescue effort.

  “Not bad for a glorified mech driver,” he said to the inside of the lonely ship.

  Penelope Danestar strode across the platform with her eyes on her vambrace. An image of Commander David Kane reading the butcher’s bill due at the end of House Bronc’s latest surprise attack was a grim reminder of the stakes. The BSA needed to get the Exactas Meridias moving with greater alacrity. Without the mining station, the expedition was doomed.

  “Fortunately, they shifted their aggression to the Royal Gildain Fleet,” Kane concluded. “We haven’t received confirmation the king is dead, but it seems impossible the man survived. The King’s Wrath is a complete loss. We can’t even find its identification beacon.”

  “I don’t like that news,” she said. “Perhaps I should for all the misery he caused. Such a ruthless betrayal seems an escalation of our misery rather than a reduction.”

  Kane didn’t offer his opinion.

  “There’s been a new development,” Penelope said, nearly to her best soldiers and scientists. “I’m taking a team of engineers to deck nine. If we can fix this power transfer, then we’ll be able to double our speed. Still slow, but an improvement.”

  “Outstanding. I will inform Admiral Roth and Duke Marlboro,” Kane said. “We are engaged in the rescue of life pods. That should give you time to fine-tune your engines.”

  “What did Admiral Roth say about my offer to give you a ship?” Penelope wasn’t sure now was the best moment to discuss their agreement. Then again, perfect timing was a luxury no one possessed these days.

  “He congratulated me… and promptly warned me I might have other duties that would take priority,” Kane said. “I look forward to commanding the Danestar if fate allows. I have supervised repairs per your request and have only good things to say about your crew.”

  “Excellent, Commander Kane. Danestar, signing off.” She shifted her focus to her team. “Are we ready?”

  “Yes, Duchess,” said Sven Morten, the captain of the Danestar Guards. “The Marlboro contingent just arrived, ready and willing as any collection of life takers and heart breakers I’ve ever met.”

  “Outstanding.” Penelope turned her attention to the civilians in her group.

  “I’m eager for this opportunity, Duchess,” said Hugh Maekshift, one of her up-and-coming engineers. “I truly believe the sensor readings of Power Transfer Station number 9B hold the clues to what is throttling our top speed. We should be able to keep up with a slow-moving freighter if this works.” He laughed at his own joke.

  Penelope humored her engineer with a raised eyebrow. “Let’s hope you’re right. Remember, you and your scientists must respect Captain Morten’s orders at all times. We can’t fix anything if we get killed.” She glanced at her captain of the guard and thought he appreciated her clarification of the chain of command.

  “Duchess, I assigned Lieutenant Ogre as your bodyguard for the duration of this mission,” Morten said.

  Lieutenant William Ogre offered a short, elegant bow. He was the most beautiful man in the Danestar Guards and large enough to terrify most people—not just tall and muscular, but as powerful as his namesake. His raven black hair was slightly too long, though neat. His delicate face somehow belonged at the top of his thick neck and massive shoulders. His ABA only accentuated his unique build, creating the illusion he was nearly as wide as he was tall.

  “Duchess, Captain Morten also asked me to convince you not to participate in the fighting. None of us want to risk losing you to the mutants,” Ogre said.

  “I have complete confidence in you and your fellow soldiers. Let’s begin.” Penelope already had this discussion with Sven Morten several times. She wasn’t about to do it again in public, and not with this junior officer.

  “As you wish,” he said. “I will stay close to your left and slightly behind you until danger presents itself. Please be warned in advance, Duchess, that I may push you to the ground or carry you if the need arises.”

  She gave him a crisp, emotionless nod, then wondered privately if a joke would have been better. Second guessing herself would be a fatal mistake, so she filed the consid
eration for later reflection.

  Sven Morten ordered his soldiers into a travel formation, taking position on her right where she could easily talk to him. She had to admit the constant presence of Ogre was reassuring. Hugh Maekshift and two of his scientists remained in the middle of the formation. They wore military ABA with weapons locked to their backs.

  “Remember, those accelerator rifles are for the unlikely event you become separated from my soldiers. Don’t pull them out unless you’re completely alone and have no other choice. We will do all the fighting. We will defend you. We will return you to base,” Morten said. “I put you in military grade gear to protect your tender persons, not to make you into action heroes.”

  Maekshift and the engineers muttered agreements Penelope couldn’t hear well. She concentrated on staying out of the squad’s way while watching their every move. Though she wasn’t destined to be a warrior, she needed to understand them better if she were to lead House Danestar well. Her parents had relied too much on wealth and allowed their military contingent to atrophy.

  They arrived at the lift, boarded, and waited for the gate to close. The lift floated downward and she was flooded with the sensation of the contents of her stomach becoming weightless. Talking about going below decks was far different than doing it. It was hard to track what Morten and his soldiers were saying. They communicated with hand signals, private comms, and jargon that made little sense. Ogre glared at a pair of privates who made an off-color joke and they went silent.