The Forever Siren (SMC Marauders Book 3) Page 8

  “Yes, ma’am, Admiral, queen bitch, or whatever I’m supposed to call you,” Kimberly said.

  “Major Jackson, take that officer’s name for discipline,” Circu said, purple spots growing on his light blue cheekbones. Anger flashed in his eyes.

  Jackson stood at attention. “Consider it done, XO.”

  Jeda ignored the confrontation. “Sensors, run another sweep of this sector.”

  “Right away, Admiral,” Ensign Peter Hankson said. He was young—having finished secondary school and earned his commission during the Black Fleet’s long deployment.

  Everything on the viewscreen changed. Kimberly wasn’t the only member of the bridge crew to swear. Jeda gripped the rail of her battle station as three massive objects appeared on the tactical grid. Displayed as red spheres with black dimension lines, the Noctari super carriers looked like giant moons or wandering planets.

  “What the actual fuck!” Kimberly shouted.

  “Well said, Comms,” Jeda muttered, waving aside Jackson’s disapproving look. “Those are Noctari super carriers. Do they terrify you, Miss DeVries? Each time they jump out of a system, a star dies, and with it, everything in the system.” She flicked her eyes across an icon in her helmet to activate the Admiral’s Address System. “All hands, report to your battle stations.”

  Sailors in every part of Black Fleet moved smoothly to their duties.

  “Sensors, put up a direct visual,” Jeda said.

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  A moment later, the main wall of the room displayed a two-dimensional representation of the newcomers.

  Kimberly DeVries shook her head as she stared at the display. “How are they going to get out of this one? I mean, do they each drain a star of power, or can they share?”

  Circu turned from his station to meet Jeda’s gaze.

  “She’s already asking good questions,” Jeda said.

  Professor Michaels grumbled nearby. “It’s an obvious question, nothing worth praise. What she’s doing here is the better question.”

  Jeda ignored her science officer’s comment for now. “Circu, are these the same Noctari SBC we’ve seen in other venues?”

  “No. None of them have our markers. Shall I send out a new batch?”

  “At once,” Jeda said.

  Dozens of drone rockets fired at the distant shapes.

  “Twenty hours to contact. These are old markers, refurbished from the Whiplash Operation last year,” Ensign Hankson said.

  Jeda toured the bridge, briefly checking officers and enlisted at their workstations before conversing with Kimberly in low tones. “The Noctari have been working on technology to extend their range. We have evidence of their many failed attempts.”

  “What about their successful attempts?” Kimberly asked, her attitude reserved and cautious.

  “They have been successful jumping through multiple systems on one fuel draw—one sun sucked cold by the demands of their gargantuan ships and huge fleets,” Jeda said. “It is too soon to know if they can replicate this achievement on a regular basis,” Jeda said.

  14

  Cassandra

  Kevin enjoyed the warm water gently lapping his face for about two seconds. Choking had a way of waking a man up. Gagging and coughing, he heaved himself backward.

  Spots danced in his vision. Hungry and cold, despite the warm water that had been soothing him, he was disoriented and starting to wish he'd never left the UNA camp.

  The patrol moved in the distance, their familiar tactics bringing him back to reality. One thing he’d realized during this side quest was that too long on Siris without human contact made everything feel like a bad dream. With no reason to hide, he sat and watched them in a daze.

  These were people he knew. Private First Class O. Sanchez was on point, while his twin brother, A. Sanchez, brought up the rear. Tenant Lovejoy, Corporal Montgomery, and Lance Corporal Uriah were in a Sanchez sandwich.

  Laughter took Kevin, growing stronger moment by moment. When he restrained the sound, his voice rose half an octave.

  The SMC Marauders didn’t change their pace or their course. When they arrived, the enlisted men parted so Lovejoy could talk.

  “Corporal Kevin Connelly, fancy meeting you here.”

  Kevin struggled to his feet and saluted. “Sir.”

  “What are your orders? Your mission?”

  Kevin hesitated.

  “Walk with me, Corporal.”

  “I can explain why I'm out here, but you probably wouldn’t want me to waste your time,” Kevin said.

  Lovejoy looked around as though a tourist. “Who wouldn’t want a little relaxation on a deadly alien planet. Seems safe.”

  “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Kevin felt young and vulnerable.

  Lovejoy nodded. “We’re stranded, with no hope of reinforcement to rescue, and running low on food and ammunition and everything else. We’d see a lot more desertion if there was any place on this hellhole to escape.”

  “I wasn’t deserting, sir.”

  “Of course not, Connelly. You don’t look like the deserting type. I’m betting you’re on a private quest. And I’m very intrigued what that might be.”

  Kevin hesitated.

  “Take your time, Marine. We’re not in a hurry,” Lovejoy said.

  They walked a few more paces and stopped. The rest of the squad held defensive positions.

  “I’ve taken a similar walk but on a much friendlier planet. Did you know I was a general? No?” Lovejoy smiled. He looked at his feet. Shook his head at a fond memory. “Her name was Cassandra and I loved her more than was reasonable.”

  Kevin forgot everything about his current situation as he watched the man. The lieutenant was a talented leader and a rather flamboyant personality. Rumors suggested he was a serial womanizer.

  “She was strong, a provincial governor, and an admiral of Red Sun, one of the few intergalactic nations not in the Coalition of Worlds. They also never had a landholding on Earth like the United Nations of America.”

  “I’ve heard of Red Sun,” Kevin said.

  "She tried to recruit me, suggested that if I retired from the UNA military, I might have a place in her provisional honor guard," Lovejoy said.

  "But you didn't."

  Lovejoy made a noncommittal shrug. "Actually, I did. When things didn't work out, it was more difficult than I thought it would be to pick up where I had left off. At the time, you had to renounce your citizenship to serve in a foreign military."

  Kevin wanted to ask what happened, wanted to ask why he didn't just stay part of Red Sun, but wasn't sure how the questions would sound.

  "She liked to dance." His attention drifted for a moment. He smiled at some private memory. "And run barefoot. Dancing barefoot was paradise."

  Corporal Montgomery interrupted with a situation report, warning them of Burners on the move.

  "I guess you had to be there," Lovejoy said. "Heads up. Hate to get killed just because we’re having story time."

  The story resonated in Kevin's imagination. He suspected few knew this version of events.

  "It's time to head back," Lovejoy said. He inspected his squad and assigned Corporal Montgomery as point. The Sanchez brothers, he put as a double rearguard.

  "You're the boss," O. Sanchez said. "Except for finding a Connelly, this has been our easiest patrol yet."

  Lovejoy was looking at Kevin but answering Sanchez. "You're welcome."

  The Siris sun climbed higher, turning the purple mist of morning blood red. Nothing moved. Wind was only a memory.

  Kevin thought both sides of the conflict were exhausted. The nutrient paste Lovejoy had given him only made him hungrier. He needed to get back to his friends, food stashes, and his armor.

  "I think this is gonna be the last time I range out with no gear," he said.

  "You're lucky you get a second chance," Lovejoy said. "I told you my story. Now tell me yours."

  Kevin marched beside him for several strides as
he composed his thoughts. He wasn't worried about telling the man everything, only whether the man would believe him.

  "I joined the SMC marauders because my twin brother and sister, Ace and Amanda, were kidnapped by a Siren. Eigon was her name. Took me a while to figure out the truth, and when I did, there was no way to go looking for them."

  "So you enlisted, hoping for an easy ride across the galaxy. How'd that work for you?"

  "The Marauders took me to new and interesting places where I met exotic people and learned to kill them," Kevin said, wondering if he was going to get an easy out of the conversation. "Not much of a story, really. I'm looking for Ace and Amanda. They're in trouble and need my help."

  "Tell me the rest."

  "What do you know about the Siren and the Siren-nix?"

  "More than I did before we attacked their planet. Their leaders go through some sort of conversion chamber that gives them longevity and some sort of placement in their caste system."

  Kevin nodded. "Pretty much. Except this time, they put the twins in one of these chambers and I don't know what happened to them. They could be dying right now, but the Burner Queen who put them in wants me to go on a quest before she'll release them."

  "Sounds like a good story. What's the quest?"

  "I have to kill the Guide."

  Kevin expected the lieutenant to laugh at the preposterousness of this mission or get angry. Instead, he was calm.

  "You're going to need help."

  "I'm trying not to drag my friends into this."

  "I have someone else in mind."

  15

  Void Battle

  Jeda strode toward the bridge with her security team in tow. Klaxons shrieked warnings. She'd lowered the volume of the alerts as much as possible over the years. Everyone on her ship knew their battle stations. The alarms were routine announcements, not something to get people fired up for a fight.

  Big surprise, the Noctari were attacking.

  She expected them to move on her fleet but hadn't realized they already still marshaled this many ships from their spawn point.

  A pair of bridge guards stepped aside as the door whooshed open. She strode to her command center, slipped on her helmet, and attached the safety line to the railing. Her boots locked magnetically to the deck but would release to keep her from spraining ankles or knees when all hell broke loose.

  "Security team in place, Admiral."

  She acknowledged the Marines standing near her station. One of them, the combat medic, was a naval corpsman by tradition—a tough fighter who could put the body parts he broke back together afterward. Mostly.

  He'd also made it clear on many occasions that he considered her life more valuable than his own.

  "Circu, what's changed? Are those new ships?" She studied the tactical display and long-range camera views. Much of this was computer simulations due to the distances they were dealing with.

  "That is a tricky question to answer," the light blue humanoid said. "These are new to this particular venue, but not new to us. We've marked many of the Noctari who jumped into the system last night. The new arrivals are a fleet we've faced before. Most of them have markers."

  "And most of them have damage from the blows we've dealt them in past fights," she said.

  Her crew laughed with good-natured pride. Circu was more reserved, giving her a knowing look because he alone understood the relationship between damage done to the Noctari and the rate at which they spawned new fleets.

  "Yes, Admiral, we've done a great deal of damage to these monsters."

  Jeda was fond of Circu. She left his statement for a future argument they might have in private.

  Kimberly and the dark Siren sword saint watched the bridge crew and listened.

  "Ensign Unrue, hail the enemy commander," Jeda said.

  "Attempting communication," the junior officer said.

  On the screen, displays of the enemy ship movements barely changed. Numbers scrolled along the bottom of the screen, indicating distances and vectors for possible contact scenarios.

  "Permission to deploy small ships?" Lieutenant Starson asked.

  Jeda locked her coffee cup to her workstation then stood with her hands clasped behind her back. "Have them stand by on the flight line for now, if you will, Lieutenant."

  Tension drained from the bridge the moment she assumed the classical posture.

  "Fighter crews standing by on flight lines, Admiral."

  Pride filled Jeda as each member of her crew steadfastly did their jobs.

  The Noctari ship formations expanded and contracted. From this distance, even with long-range sensor enhancements and computer simulations, it was difficult to determine their exact movements. Jeda and her crew knew from experience the enemy swarmed around each other in the beginning as though becoming agitated.

  Circu's people had believed they were being powered up, and had used a word that translated as “resurrected” during the early linguistic disasters between humans and Circu's depopulated race.

  No one spoke.

  "Comms, try again."

  They repeated the process for half an hour with no result.

  "Have they ever answered?" Kimberly DeVries asked.

  "Three times," Jeda said. "They always say the same thing."

  Kimberly waited. Jeda knew the younger woman was growing impatient. At this point, she wasn't in the mood to explain. The black-skinned Siren surprised her with an answer, however.

  "Flee, surrender, or die with us," Tion said.

  Jeda gave the alien a grudging salute to acknowledge she was correct, then turned back to her work. "Weapons, are we in range?"

  "We are, Admiral."

  "Send one volley of rockets to test for reaction and check range calculations and closing vectors." She ran the estimation on her own terminal, aware that her specialists could do each of their jobs better but wanting to keep her skills as sharp as possible.

  During space battles, close contact could mean hours or days between engagements.

  She'd served in every position on the bridge at one point in her career. Oftentimes, working through a firing solution gave her answers to other problems that were completely unrelated. Conversely, scheduling block leave, such as it was in their current situation, for her officers would sometimes give her insight to long-range battle tactics.

  The point was to keep her mind active and remain open to possibilities.

  "Rockets away," the weapons officer said. "Estimated impact, thirty-seven minutes standard."

  Jeda waited. She ran a tight ship. Silence was the rule of the day during a battle. When enemy rounds started impacting, there would be more than enough noise and chaos to balance it out.

  "Enemy fleets are firing countermeasures and their own offensive strike," the sensors officer said.

  "Thank you, Lieutenant Shane."

  She ran additional calculations and made a decision. "Send out a second volley, wait five minutes, and send out a third much larger volley. We can wait to see which way they adjust course, but I think I know their habits."

  "Yes, Admiral."

  "Tactical, now would be a good time to put some of your small ships into the void," Jeda said, picking up her coffee cup and sipping from the tube.

  Lieutenant Starson gave orders without acknowledging the admiral’s directive, as was tradition on the Honor Jeda had streamlined many of the naval forms of address during combat operations.

  "Seven squadrons from the UNAS Sabre, seven from the UNAS Broadsword—both carriers—and eleven from the UNAS Reign of Fire, a dreadnaught carrier, are deploying now," Starson advised. "Wing Commander Evans as command. Two additional fighter groups are standing by for your order, Admiral."

  "Very good, Tactical."

  Small ship icons patrolled near the boundary of Black Fleet's spherical formation, ready to engage after the rocket duel was finished.

  She was watching thousands of rockets tracking across the solar system, when something tickled her i
ntuition. "Sensors, run a new scan for jump signatures."

  Alarms sounded before the order could be carried out. She watched in grim silence as a third Noctari fleet arrived in force. Ship after ship flashed into existence much closer to her fleet than should have been possible.

  Hundreds, maybe thousands of battleships moved in the formation. And they just kept coming. Her crew began to curse under their breath. There were so many of the enemy that it was like an insult added to injury.

  "Weapons, cease fire. All ships, cease fire. Defensive measures only. We're going to need to adjust to this development," she said with cold hate in her voice. Years of fighting these bastards should've prepared her for something like this.

  "I realize I'm not up to speed on military tactics, but now seems like a good time to get the hell out of here," Kimberly said into the painful silence.

  Jeda responded dryly, "That's an astute assessment."

  "Wisdom from the mouth of babes," Circu said.

  Jeda studied Kimberly's reaction. She had a feeling this young woman was important to whatever was to come next.

  "Would you like me to start making calculations, or get one of my Dissident Union pilots to work on it? If you're too busy," Kimberly drawled.

  "And where would you take us, Miss DeVries?"

  "The only sensible place," Kimberly said. "Earth. We need the strength of the White Fleet."

  "You want to run home, then?" Jeda said with a laugh she knew would anger the younger woman. Several members of her crew chuckled.

  "When you see what the Burners can do, you'll want help from the home fleet."

  Jeda stared her down. "There's only one fleet that can stand up to the Noctari and the Ignari," Jeda said. Her crew remained silent.

  Kimberly flushed red and tapped one foot angrily. Her crossed arms spoke volumes about what she thought of the admiral's opinion.

  Jeda smiled. "That's not how we do it in the Black Fleet. XO, please send out a scout ship to thread the needle."