The Devex opened fire. A stream of tiny white dots of energy raked the corridor. The energy bullets came fizzing from the blaster and slammed into the composite of the corridor and exploded, throwing chucks of material out from the walls

  “Open fire!” Jack said. He pressed himself against the side of the corridor.

  The Marines in the open corridor let loose with a few pulse rounds. The familiar sound of the Fleet Marine’s primary weapon filled Jack with a hundred memories. He fought back those memories, since few of them were good. Rifle fire was too often accompanied by shouts of fear and pain. Jack put fear from his mind and urged his Marines into action.

  “Maintain the fire!” Jack called.

  The Devex warrior dropped to the deck, and a second warrior came lumbering behind. The two Devex delivered a sustained stream of white energy bullets onto the open doorway where Hawke was taking cover.

  The stream of burning energy from the Devex blasters came with a high-pitched fizzing, and with each hit, the corridor walls and doorframe erupted with burning explosions. The Devex maintained a steady stream, tearing chunks out of the corridor and pouring fear into the small squad of Marines.

  The two Marines at the end of the adjoining corridor broke cover and ran back toward Jack. Jack, alert to the deadly danger, dropped and rolled across the corridor to give him a line of sight on the two Devex. He gave covering fire with his pulse pistol, striking the stooped Devex in the faceplate. The Devex head jerked back as the pulse round struck.

  The prone Devex turned his blaster on the retreating Marines. They were both flung toward Jack as the energy bullets slammed into their backs. Both fell dead. Their time of death transmitted automatically from their tactical suits to Jack’s.

  The prone Devex propped himself up on his elbows and turned his blaster toward Jack. Jack rolled aside and found just enough cover around the slight bend. The bullets tore into the deck plating at Jack’s elbow. He scurried back and pressed himself close to the edge of the corridor.

  “Pulse grenade out!”

  Jack heard Hawke’s call. He heard the tell-tale sound of a grenade hitting the deck.

  The Marine stationed with Hawke came running back along the corridor in a disorderly retreat. He was running for his life.

  “Cover!” Jack said, the instruction intended for the fleeing Marine. Checking his enhanced display, Jack discovered that the Marines was several meters back along the corridor already and steadily retreating, his bio signs off the chart, fear and stress flooding his system with a chemical cocktail that was difficult for even a seasoned Marine to endure, and clearly too much for a novice.

  The blast from the pulse grenade ripped along the corridor. Jack braced himself and leaned into the residual blast wave. He risked a glance around the bend of the corridor. At that point, Hawke came running toward Jack. Out of the clouds of dust thrown up from the pulse grenade came the minute white energy bullets from the Devex blasters. They raked the walls of the corridor, exploding and tearing chunks of smooth composite out of the corridor and leaving charred, rough marks and smoldering scars.

  “Take cover!” Jack said and directed Hawke to a nearby doorway.

  “Where’s Webster?” Hawke said as he took cover across from Jack.

  “He lost it and ran.”

  “Not Webster!” Hawke lamented. “He was always so tough.”

  Jack fired at the dark shape in the white dust that filled the corridor. “Open fire. Heavy fire. Hold them back.”

  “We can’t hold them!” Hawke said.

  A stream with energy bullets zipped past close to Jack’s head. The flash of the white bullets, brighter than a neutron star, flooded his helmet, the flare shielding not reacting in time to completely protect Jack’s vision. The brightness flashed across his eyes, temporarily blinding him on the right side. He returned fire, knowing that a few centimeters more and he would have had his helmet blasted away, a good deal of his skull and brain along with it.

  “Pulse grenade out!” Hawke called and stepped into the corridor, grenade primed and ready to toss.

  A stream of white energy cut across Hawke’s right shoulder, tearing a chunk out of the suit. Hawke toppled to one side, his legs crumpling under him. The grenade tumbled from his hand and his fingers uncurled.

  Acting on instinct, Jack reached for the falling grenade and tossed it toward the Devex. He checked Hawke’s life signs. The young Marine was alive but falling into shock.

  “Fall back, Hawke!” Jack shouted. He grabbed Hawke and turned to run. The stream of energy bullets slammed into the deck, walls, and ceiling all around them. Every bullet was almost too small to measure, each one burning fiercely, every one slamming into the composite and smashing out chucks with a deafening explosion. And each one mercifully missed Jack and Hawke.

  The grenade detonated. The stream of pursuing bullets stopped, for a moment.

  10

  Jack strode onto the command deck, Hawke and Webster close behind. The doors slid shut behind them, closing with a dull thud as he pulled off his helmet.

  Captain Morton was standing at the central holostage. He looked up at Jack.

  “The Devex have taken one hundred and fifty passengers. Their ships lifted off a moment ago.”

  Jack placed his helmet on a console. “I thought you were supervising the work at the drive section.”

  “The maintenance team can handle the repair. I’d rather not watch, to be honest. I still think repairs are a bad idea. I still think it’ll kill us all.”

  “It’s a robust piece of hardware. It’ll take more abuse than you know, Captain.”

  “That’s what the maintenance guys said,” Morton replied. “I hope you are right.”

  Morton turned to the holostage. The image showed the section that had just been cleared out by the Devex. “What do they want with these people?” Morton asked, looking at the holoimage, his shoulders slumped.

  “Can you track the raiders?” Jacked asked, instead of speculating, as he stepped up to the holostage.

  Morton tapped a few controls and showed the three raiders racing away from the planet. They moved at high speed toward the distant Oort cloud that surrounded the system. They moved away at forty-five degrees to the ecliptic.

  “Is that the direction they came from?” Jack asked.

  Morton nodded. “I’ve traced their movements and searched for residual traces of their drive. Since they first put us all to sleep, they have made six trips, each one to and from the same location. Every time, three Devex raiders come, and they take around one hundred and fifty passengers.”

  “I know where they’re taking them,” Jack said. “We spotted a Devex warship outside the Oort cloud. The cloud is too dense for it to move through. They are creating a path through the cloud so they can come and scoop everyone up, but they are sending the raiders to start collecting their prize.”

  Morton turned away from the holostage and looked up at his command chair. “They have been on board many times while we we’ve all been asleep, before you arrived.”

  “And they will be back,” Jack said as he tapped the holostage and called up an image of the civilian transport. “Now they know we are awake, more will come next time. They aren’t going to leave this ship alone until it is emptied of passengers or destroyed.”

  Jack marked the locations on the upper hull where the largest entrances were. “I think we should run as soon as we can, but if we can’t get away before the next raid, I think we should fight. I don’t want them snatching any more civilians.”

  Hawke was standing to one side of the command deck, Webster crumpled on the floor at his feet. Hawke shouted, “We can’t fight them. They’re too strong. We just got our kravin’ asses kicked, again. I just lost two more of my squad. How are we going to fight them?”

  Jack stepped away from the holostage and walked over to Hawke. He spoke softly in Hawke’s ear. “When you address an officer, you say ‘sir’.”

  Hawke’s head dropped. “Sir. Yes, sir,” he said quietly.

  “You are a Marine, Squad Leader. You will fight and maybe you will die, and so will your Marines. We are here to protect these people and that obligation does not disappear because we are outnumbered. Copy?”

  “Copy that, sir.”

  “Now get on that passenger list and find every ex-military, every cop, anyone with weapons training. When you find them, go and wake them. If we are going to hold back the Devex, we are going to need volunteers for a militia force. Do you copy, Hawke?”

  “Yes, sir,” Hawke said.

  Morton stepped over to Jack. He looked hesitant. “I volunteer, Major,” Morton said. “It’s my duty to protect my passengers. I should be the first to volunteer for your militia.”

  Jack realized his voice had been rising and saw the entire command deck crew looking at him, nervous and uncertain. He felt a rush of embarrassment that he let his emotions get away from him, but he was feeling frustrated and guilty for the loss of two Marines and a hundred and fifty civilians.

  Jack put his hand on Morton’s shoulder. “No, Captain. You are needed here. As soon as the drive repairs are complete, you need to get us to that Oort cloud as fast as possible. I can’t have you in a running battle with the Devex when you will be needed here.”

  Morton nodded. “I’ll break out the small arms. The command deck crew will be ready to defend the deck.”

  “Good. Keep the scanners active. We need to know when the Devex are coming back.”

  Jack surveyed the command deck as an officer opened a locker and distributed pulse pistols to the other dozen deck officers. Hawke was at a console, the nerve-shattered Webster standing at his side.

  Jack stepped over to Hawke. “Progress?” he asked.

  “We have a hundred and thirty cops on board. An entire precinct was evacuated on this ship.”

  Jack looked at Hawke, studying the young Marine’s mood. He seemed composed and focused on his task. Webster looked calmer but was distracted.

  “And you, Marine?” Jack said. “How are you holding up?”

  Webster looked nervously at Jack. His eyes were red from tears, his face pale from fear.

  “I ran, sir,” he said weakly. His lip quivered. “I was afraid.”

  Jack fixed Webster with a firm stare. “We are all afraid, Webster,” he said.

  The sound of his own name gave the Marine a jolt of confidence. He nodded, and Jack thought he saw some color return to the young man’s gaunt cheeks.

  “Everyone on here is afraid.” Jack cast his arm about the command deck. The officers were prepping their pulse pistols and getting on with their jobs at the various consoles around the deck.

  “Go with Hawke and wake those cops. You need to look confident when you do that. Can you do that, Marine?”

  Webster nodded.

  Jack turned to Hawke. “Ask the cops for assistance. If I know cops, they’ll be ready to help. Give them each a pulse weapon and oversee some fire practice. Be quick, though, we don’t know how long before the Devex will be back.”

  Jack grabbed his helmet off the console where he’d left it and stepped over to the command deck doors. “Captain Morton, I’ll go and check on the repair work. Call me the instant anything happens.”

  Jack pulled on the helmet and stepped out into the quiet corridor as the door slid shut behind him.

  Opening a private channel, Jack took a few steps into the dark corridor. “Sam,” Jack said.

  The channel opened and Jack heard the sounds of the repair work in the drive room. “Yeah. What is it, Jack?”

  Jack walked with more confidence. “How are the repairs?”

  “Progressing. How’s the Devex?”

  “Not good. I’m coming to the drive section. See you soon.”

  With the ventilation shut off to prevent the soporific filtering into the drive room, the air was becoming hot and heavy. The teams worked in their underclothes, sweat dripping from them as they fought to replace a huge part of the main drive.

  Jack pulled off his helmet as Sam stepped over. His sleeves tied around his waist. His body dirty and sweaty.

  “You’re out of uniform, Marine,” Jack said.

  Sam pushed Jack out of sight of the maintenance team. He waited until he was out of earshot before his smile turned to a frown. “I am guarding this section, but I might as well lend a hand too. If the Devex break in, I’ll kill them all, but I’m not standing around waiting for that to happen. I am working. But what is your excuse? What are you doing here, Jack?”

  Jack looked at the floor. “Two Marines got killed, Sam.”

  Sam fixed Jack with a firm stare and then softened. “Hard luck. We’ve lost people before, Jack, people we knew. Why you so bothered about these?”

  “And the Devex took a hundred and fifty passengers.”

  “Hard luck for them too. Good luck for the rest that are here. We will save the rest. Right?” Sam pushed Jack hard.

  “But it was my call, Sam. I took those Marines. It’s my fault they are dead.”

  Sam pushed Jack again. “It’s the kravin’ Devex’s fault they are dead, Jacky. You didn’t shoot them.”

  “I might as well have.”

  Sam shoved Jack one more time. “Stow that kravin’ talk, Marine. Copy?”

  Jack clenched his fist and tapped it against the bulkhead.

  “I should have known more about my team. I didn’t know if they were ready for it.”

  “No one is ready for an encounter with an enemy like this, Jack. We’ve faced battle a dozen times. Have you ever felt ready for it?”

  Jack shook his head. Every time Jack faced danger, he felt afraid. He prepared the best he could, but no preparation was enough once the weapons fire began, once Marines started to fall.

  “They were Marines, Jack. You took them to battle. They died. End of story.”

  “It’s not the end of the story, Sam. The Devex will be back. We’ve got to fight them off again. I’ve told Hawke to wake a bunch of cops. They are not Marines. What if I get it wrong again, Sam?”

  Sam shoved Jack in the shoulder. “So, you get it wrong. People will die. Hard luck for them, and hard luck for you. You are a Marine officer, Jack. We don’t follow you because you always make the right call, you just make the call. We follow you because you can formulate the plan. Half of all battle plans fail, right? Of course, they do, or else both sides would win every time. Maybe you are overdue a failure. Maybe you need to learn to accept failure before you can win.”

  “You know how to cheer a guy up, Sam.”

  Sam shoved Jack again. “I shouldn’t have to cheer up. You’re the kravin’ boss. So, boss the kravin’ situation or stand down and let someone else make the call. But I’ll tell you this: they won’t be as a good a tactician as you. So if you’ve lost your nerve, you need to stand aside and let someone else call the shots. We can’t have you second-guessing your every move. We’ll be sure to fail if you can’t make decisions, good or bad. You copy, Major?”

  “Copy that,” Jack said with a weak smile. “Thanks, Sam.”

  Sam looked Jack up and down and saw Jack was standing a bit taller. “Was it bad?” he finally asked.

  “The Devex?” Jack asked. “Yeah. They came in hard. Took two of my Marines down fast. One Marine ran. I only just got away. I should have stayed and fought.”

  “But you made the decision to fall back. A tactical retreat, right? And here you are, ready to smash them next time.” Sam punched Jack in the shoulder.

  Jack nodded.

  Sam stepped next to Jack and leaned against the bulkhead. He pulled a hydration pack out of his pocket and took a sip before handing it to Jack.

  “Cops?” Sam said with mocking incredulity.

  “Yeah, a whole precinct is aboard. Over a hundred.”

  Sam shook his head disapprovingly. “I don’t have a good record with cops.” He held out his right arm. The composite tendrils hanging from the endcap were still twitching. “They keep doing that,” Sam changed the subject. “I used to be able to control them, even pick things up, but right now, they seem to have come alive. Maybe it’s this air.”

  Jack looked. The composite tendrils were there to connect Sam to his cybernetic arm as a nerve and neural interface. Now they seemed longer and even a bit fatter than before.

  “Does it hurt?” Jack asked.

  “No, it doesn’t hurt, but you’ve got bigger things to think about than the remains of my old prosthetic.”

  Jack pushed himself off the bulkhead. “Get that drive up and running. If we can get away before the Devex come back, so much the better.”

  Sam pocketed the hydration pack and pushed himself away from the bulkhead. “Lead them, Jack. Get us out of here. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

  The captain’s voice came over the communicator. Sam looked at Jack.

  “Major Forge. Devex raiders detected crossing the Oort cloud. They are heading back into the system. A dozen raiders in total. They are on a direct course to us.”

  “Copy that, Captain,” Jack said with a strong, steady voice. “Keep me informed.” Then Jack opened a channel to Squad Leader Hawke. “Hawke, you got those cops awake yet?”

  “We’re in a cargo hold on fifth deck." Hawke’s voice was lost under the sound of pulse rifle fire.

  “Hold there. I’m on my way to you now.”

  Jack paused and patted Sam on the shoulder. “They’ll hang you for striking an officer,” Jack said.

  Sam punched Jack in the chest then patted him on the side of the head. “You’ll have to get us out of here first, Jack.”

  Jack smiled. He turned and ran from the drive section, pulling on his helmet and checking the fastest route to the cargo hold where his hastily-formed militia was waiting.

  11

  Lou Beretta sat in the cockpit of his cruiser. Feet up on the console, hands tucked behind his head. He watched the scenes on his flight console’s small holostage.

  “What’s the plan, Lou?” Lars Crooke stood behind Beretta, hovering uncertainly.