Galaxy under siege forgo.., p.1
Galaxy Under Siege (Forgotten Galaxy Book 3), page 1
GALAXY UNDER SIEGE
FORGOTTEN GALAXY
BOOK 3
M.R. FORBES
Published by Quirky Algorithms
Seattle, Washington
This novel is a work of fiction and a product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by M.R. Forbes
All rights reserved.
Cover illustration by Tom Edwards
Edited by Merrylee Lanehart
CHAPTER 1
The Splinter shuddered violently, the magnetic grip of Caleb’s seat straining as the tiny breacher ground through eight inches of alloy, along with a mess of pipes and wiring, before bursting through the bulkhead of the cargo hauler Tonneau. Compressed air pumped into bladders surrounding the back half of the breacher, sealing the hole it had created. Another burst of compressed air, and the Splinter’s bow popped open. Caleb deactivated his seat’s maglock and dove forward onto the deck of the cargo ship.
He rose to a crouch, rifle leveled to sweep the passageway in both directions. “Clear,” he announced over the unit’s networked comms. The rest of his boarding team joined him in the corridor as he sent a second message back to Gorgon. “We’re in.”
“Copy that, Captain. We’re almost finished dealing with the escorts. This one is pretty much wrapped up.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sarge,” Caleb warned. “Ishek isn’t usually right about much, but he’s right when he says never underestimate the Relyeh.”
One of the everything I’m correct about.
“I thought you said this run was clean?” Damian countered.
“I did. That means no khoron. But Iagorth’s moieties can be anywhere, and they don’t use the Collective. We can’t see them.”
“It’s been three months since the stardock,” Damian continued. “If there were more moieties out here, wouldn’t we have encountered them by now? Or does Crux not care that we’ve intercepted over a dozen of his haulers since then?”
Caleb didn’t reply. His helmet’s sensors detected movement before his ears could. The other members of the Razor’s Edge who had accompanied him—Penn, Orin, and Sparkles—all turned toward the sensor hit. Not that he could always trust his helmet sensors. He had learned fast that there was the occasional spoof contact, along with ways to jam sensors. The helmet was an early warning system, but nothing beat human sight and hearing for confirmation.
His doubts were confirmed when the signal should have become visible at a junction a short distance ahead, but nothing appeared.
“Spoofed,” Sparkles spat. “I guess they like playing games with us, Cap.”
“We know the rules to this one,” Caleb replied. “Penn, Orin, go left. Sparkles, you’re with me.”
“Copy,” Penn replied, gesturing to the Jiba-ki, who scratched his armpit before following her down the passageway. All clothes were uncomfortable for him, the tactical gear especially so.
“Granger, sitrep,” Caleb said, continuing along the corridor with Sparkles on his six.
“Our bird just landed, Cap,” the leader of the Berserkers rumbled. “On our way to secure the hold.”
Caleb pulled to a stop a few meters short of the junction, glancing at the tattooed Edger. “What do you think, Sparky?”
“By the book,” Sparkles replied.
They both remained static in the passageway, but not for long. A small drone zipped around the corner ahead, accelerating toward them. Neither man turned their rifle toward the machine. Instead, Sparkles tapped the trigger of the directed electromagnetic pulse device in his hand. The drone immediately powered down, crashing to the deck in front of them.
“By the book,” Caleb repeated, shaking his head. They had captured over fifty million coin worth of Legion military supplies over the last three months, and the cargo ships transporting the goods had yet to change up their tactics. It appeared they still didn’t expect anyone to have the audacity to attack them. After all this time, they had made no changes to their defenses in the face of Gorgon’s increasing raids.
Still, Caleb refused to grow complacent with their assaults, which was why he had continued joining the boarding crews on their missions. Each time they located a transit route for Crux’s war machine, each time they went out in the Splinters, he expected beefed up defenses and a more challenging takeover. Once more, those expectations hadn’t been met.
He and Sparkles advanced to the corner, swinging around it in unison. A unit of defenders had taken a position near the far end of the passageway. A hardened portable barrier—small gaps allowed for firing through it—separated them from the two men. These were contracted mercenaries, not Legionnaires. Guns for hire that the Legion had decided wouldn’t make suitable hosts. They weren’t poor fighters, per se. But there were no surprises in their tactics, and the Razor’s Edge had come prepared.
Plasma bolts spewed from rifle muzzles resting in the small gaps of the barrier, across the passageway toward Caleb and Sparkles. Caleb crossed to the other side of the junction to take cover, while Sparkles temporarily pulled back. When the plasma stopped, Caleb laid down covering fire while Sparkles moved back into the open, needing only a second to launch an explosive gel round down the passageway. It hit the barrier and stuck there; the gel spraying out on contact.
“Fire in the hole,” Sparkles growled, enjoying the moment as he jumped back behind the corner for cover from the rounds still flying down the corridor. The gel detonated, blasting a hole in the barrier and sending shrapnel into the defenders behind it. Rushing the defenses while the smoke of the blast provided maximum cover, Caleb and Sparkles arrived at the scene uncontested. “This is too easy, Cap.”
“I keep thinking that every time we board one of these ships,” Caleb replied. “Penn, we’re clear in the aft, headed toward Engineering.”
“Copy. No resistance so far. ETA three minutes to the bridge.”
Caleb and Sparkles picked up the pace, breaking into a run after sweeping their rifles over the downed defenders, making sure they were all out of commission. While the bridge was the brains of the ship, Engineering was its heart. They needed to reach the control room before the hauler’s captain could send the order to jump to hyperspace.
Nearing the end of its route, the hauler had been traveling at sub-light speed when Gorgon arrived—the only reason its captain hadn’t jumped already. It would take him a few more minutes to reset the hauler’s drive, offering Gorgon the opportunity for a quick getaway. They needed the advantage, since the pair of Spectors orbiting their destination, a sparsely populated planet named Callisco, were en route and burning hard to reach the Tonneau. It was a race Caleb and the others had run, and won, before.
“Escort ships are neutralized,” Damian announced. “Specters will be here in sixteen minutes.”
“Copy. We’re on schedule.” Of course, there wouldn’t be time to capture and unload the hauler before the Specters arrived, which was the other reason they needed to control both the hauler’s head and heart. Once the ship was theirs, they could jump it to a predetermined rendezvous point and take their time transferring as much of the spoils as Gorgon could carry before scuttling the rest.
Passing a sealed hatch on their right, Caleb and Sparkles came up on a pair of defenders coming out of a small passageway on their left. Spaced evenly along the bulkhead, the maintenance corridors were barely big enough for a single man to pass through, but they were the most direct route to their destination.
Caught off-guard, the two defenders barely had time to shift their rifles before Caleb and Sparkles took them down with a quick barrage of energy blasts. Stepping over the still smoldering mercenaries, they ducked single-file into the maintenance corridor, running along the humid and dim corridor.
"Cap, we're two minutes from the bridge," Penn reported. "Light resistance. Orin took care of it."
"Copy," Caleb replied. "Granger?"
"Moving on the primary hold, Captain."
They had added the Berserkers after the last job, when the free-thinking captain had started jettisoning cargo before the ship was fully under their control. Granger would ensure that wouldn’t happen again, or if it did, that the bay doors would be shut before too much booty could escape.
Already familiarized with the layout of the hauler, Caleb and Sparkles navigated smoothly through the maintenance corridors, avoiding potential confrontation from the more traveled passageways and reaching the secured hatch to Engineering nearly half a minute early. Turning sideways to give Sparkles access, Caleb watched him hold a small electronic device under the face scanner. It produced morphing holographs of thousands of faces in rapid succession, the projections denser and more detailed than the holotable on Gorgon could produce.
Caleb had been interested to learn from Tae and Naya that as far as these kinds of scanners were concerned, there were only about fifty-six thousand permutations. The odds that the portable projector would match one within a few seconds went up with the system having access to more faces. This time, the LED on the scanner flashed green after only three seconds.
Caleb and Sparkles emerged on the far side of Engineering, taking a pair of mercenaries standing guard near the main door by surprise. Two quick energy bursts, secured the control room in a matter of seconds.
"Penn, we're here," Caleb said, jabbing the end of his still warm rifle barrel into the cheek of
"I... I can't."
“I know you can.” Behind him, Sparkles herded the rest of the engineering crew into the corner and began slapping energy cuffs on them. “Cooperate,” Caleb told the engineer, “and you'll make it home. Refuse, and I'll keep killing engineers until I find someone more agreeable."
Ohhh, I love it when you talk dirty.
"He can't do it," a dark-haired, heavyset engineer said from the corner, his eyes settling without so much as a blink on Caleb’s. "He doesn't have clearance. But I do.”
“I take it you’re the man in charge,” Caleb said, recognizing the man’s air of authority.
“I am.” He stepped forward.
"Fine, get over here and do it." Caleb jerked the engineer up out of the seat in front of him. “You get over there with the rest of your crew.” He pushed the man toward Sparkles.
They switched places. The supervisor opened the controls for the hyperdrive, taking it offline. “There. Happy now?" He looked up at Caleb. "I've heard about you, you know. The Vultures. Pirates? Or rebels without a clue?" He shrugged. “Same difference, right?”
"Can you open the hatch to the bridge from here?" Caleb asked, ignoring the man's sarcastic remarks.
"Sure," the engineer replied, opening a new console and scrolling through a list of doors. He stopped at one of them and tapped on it. "She's all yours. Not that it will get you anywhere. Do you really think you're hurting Crux with these attacks? He has the resources of nearly the entire Spiral at his disposal, not that he needs them with the Specters in play. This ship means nothing to him. The cargo on it means nothing. You might as well be ants trying to carry off a mountain."
Caleb leaned in, getting close. "It means something to the people still fighting for this galaxy. The people who don't accept the rule of a tyrant, or his Master."
The engineer's brow wrinkled. "Wh... what do you mean, his Master?"
"Did you think Crux came into all this power on his own? Do you think the Relyeh came from nowhere? He's their puppet."
"No, the Legion is his. Which means the Relyeh are his."
"You're welcome to keep thinking that. I'd rather be an ant carrying the mountain that's crushing humankind beneath its weight than to get squashed like a pancake."
Was that a mixed metaphor?
"Bridge secured, Cap," Penn said. "Thanks for opening the door for us."
"Anytime," Caleb replied, backing away from the engineer and activating his comm. "Sarge, how long until the Specters arrive?"
"Thirteen minutes."
"Granger, sitrep."
"We're almost to the hold, Captain. Oncoming traffic is heavier than we expected."
Caleb's jaw clenched. He hated complications. "Do you need backup?"
"If you have the time."
"Penn, are we ready to go?"
"Aye, Captain."
He turned to the engineer. "Re-engage the hyperdrive."
"You just asked me to—"
"Do what you’re told. Re-engage the drive."
The engineer tapped on the control pad a few times. "Done."
"Sarge, we’re about to go hyper. Prepare Gorgon to meet us at the rendezvous point.”
“Aye, Captain,” Damian replied.
“Sparky, keep an eye on these guys. If any of them look like they're about to do something stupid, kill them."
"Aye aye, Captain."
Caleb left Engineering through the main door, sprinting full speed toward the lift. For all the times they had hijacked Crux's cargo ships in the last few months, this was only the third time the Berserkers had been involved, and the first time they’d needed help.
It seemed the defenders were done responding by the book.
CHAPTER 2
“Still no sign of any khoron on board?” Caleb asked Ishek as he turned the corner, running toward a pair of lifts at the end of the short passageway.
No. The entire ship is clean.
“Why would the enemy focus their defenses on the cargo hold? What good is it if they do that and lose the rest of the ship?”
Perhaps there is something valuable down there. A Sanctifier or crates of Legionnaire combat armor.
“I wouldn’t mind pillaging either of those things. But that’s not my point. It doesn’t make sense for them to focus their defensive energy on the stomach over the head and the heart. You can live without the stomach, at least for a while.”
Do you believe this is a trap?
“I always believe there’s a trap. I don’t know; it definitely doesn’t feel right.”
Agreed.
The familiar pressure of a hyperspace field washed over him, adding to his unease. At least they wouldn’t need to worry about Specters intercepting them inside the protective bubble.
Pausing at the lifts, he summoned a cab, waiting only a few seconds before it arrived. After a quick drop down to Deck One, he emerged into the passageway leading to the hold, rifle at the ready as he made his way across the deck. To focus, he calmed his mind, still certain there was something about this situation that didn’t add up.
“Granger, what’s your position?” he asked. For all the functionality of his light tactical gear, he still couldn’t understand why it didn’t include anything similar to the Advanced Tactical Combat System in use when Pathfinder had left Earth. “Granger?” The lead Berserker didn’t respond. He hadn’t called for help, or left any other sign his team was in trouble. So where the hell had he gone? “Granger!”
More angry than concerned, Caleb charged along the passageway toward the large airlock and service lift used to load and unload the vessel. Turning the corner, he spotted the front of the Berserker’s Splinter up ahead, the nose jutting upward, a pair of dead mercenaries sprawled on the deck. He rushed past them without slowing, sweeping through the passageways to the hold.
Almost there, he slowed when Strom came around the corner at a run. The Berserker waved to him, his voice finally reaching Caleb’s on the comms.
“Captain, can you hear me?”
“Strom, I copy,” he replied. “What’s your sitrep?”
“I think they’re jamming our comms. It took us a minute to realize it. Granger sent me to find you. We have a…complication, sir.” His voice quivered as he spoke.
I don’t like the idea of a problem, but I am enjoying his fear.
“What kind of complication?”
“A major one. I can explain on the way.”
“Penn, I contacted the Berserkers. The enemy’s jamming comms around the cargo hold. They knew…no, it’s more than that. They wanted us to come.”
“That can’t be good.”
“No, it can’t.”
“Should we terminate the hyperspace field?”
“Negative. Whatever the issue is, we need to deal with it.”
“The bridge crew is under control. I can come down to assist.”
“I’m not sure that would help either. I’ll send Strom back into comms range if I need anything.”
“Good luck, Captain.”
“Let’s go.” Caleb broke into a run, Strom pacing him as they headed back the way the Berserker had come. “Okay, tell me. What’s the complication?”
Strom quickly explained. “First, after the standard defensive barrier and drone attack worked like it never has before, we cleared the first unit we encountered. Then a second unit ambushed us and ran before we could return fire. We chased them all the way back to the cargo hold. Once they reached the door, they turned and opened up on us until Granger took them out with a second gel round. If they had taken cover they would have had a much better chance of survival, but they didn’t. Anyway, we figured it meant they had something extra valuable in the hold. Granger was getting all excited about it. Heck, we all were. We figured we’d see what it was before we contacted you.”
Caleb and Strom turned the last corner before the hold. Caleb winced in response to the gory mess the gel explosive had made of the defenders.. “So what’s the problem?” he asked, not that he needed Strom to tell him.
At their approach, the large, heavy blast doors to the cargo hold, damaged by the gel blast, complained as they groaned open. Caleb’s attention immediately landed on the other three Berserkers, gathered around a tall cylinder resting in the center of the hold. “Strom, is that what I think it is?”
