Havoc Squad (Fire and Rust Book 3) Read online

  Havoc Squad

  Fire and Rust Book 3

  Anthony James

  Contents

  I. Peace Mission

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  II. Three Short Days

  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

  End

  © 2019 Anthony James

  All rights reserved

  The right of Anthony James to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed upon the subsequent purchaser

  Illustration © Tom Edwards

  TomEdwardsDesign.com

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  I

  Peace Mission

  Chapter One

  The Unity space station was a monumental structure of interconnected modules way out in deep space, yet still close enough to several populated worlds for FTL communications to be viable. It was home to several thousand ULAF personnel, including many high-ranking officers and specialized teams vital for the war effort against the Raggers.

  Fleet Admiral Randell Douglas Stone sat in his office deep inside one of the central modules. He’d done his best to disguise the industrial appearance of the room and make it look homely, but there was only so much you could do with alloy walls, tiled floors and several million dollars’ worth of communication equipment. A couple of pictures on the walls and a pot plant weren’t enough to fool anyone.

  It was a place he felt was becoming more like a prison with each passing day and, for a man whose early years had been spent fighting against the Fangrin, the sense of helpless confinement was hard to bear.

  “Admiral Stone, your next scheduled meeting is due to start, sir,” said the emotionless, synthesized voice of his electronic personal assistant.

  “The League Council?”

  “Yes, Admiral. You have remembered.”

  “Put it up on the screen.”

  “Certainly.”

  The largest screen in the room, directly opposite his seat, came to life. The image of three men appeared, flickered, went fuzzy and then stabilized. He knew all three faces well, though he wished it was otherwise, and the moment he saw their expressions he was gripped by the absolute certainty that they were about to reveal something which was either monumentally stupid or earth-shatteringly reckless.

  He didn’t have to wait long to find out that it was both.

  “We have made contact with the Raggers,” said Councilor Jeremiah Becker, a man whose smug, condescending manner made him easy to despise.

  Stone kept his face and his voice neutral. “How? We don’t have a line of communication.”

  The transmission between Unity and Earth had a long way to travel and the delay was perceptible. The viewscreen image shimmered and drifted in and out of focus.

  Becker’s response came through. “We sent a wide-band message in the right direction and our enemy answered.” The man’s artificially-blue eyes glittered in triumph and he showed a glint of over-whitened teeth.

  Stone’s control vanished and he experienced a surge of fury that they’d gone over his head. “The only equipment capable of sending a wide-band comm is under military control. Why was I not informed?”

  “This is out of your hands, Fleet Admiral,” said Dwight Huff, another scheming dinosaur, who made no effort to hide his lack of concern at Stone’s anger. “The Raggers have shown how easily they can kill millions of our citizens. Therefore, it falls to the members of the League Council to find a way to achieve the right outcome for our people.”

  “You’re hoping for a truce?” Stone wasn’t sure if he should be impressed at the ambition or appalled at the naivete.

  “Not a truce,” said the third and final member of the League Council present in the meeting. Nate Clevenger was tall, broad, and in his middle years, with an open face that exuded sincerity. “Our aims are for a permanent peace with the Raggers.”

  “The enemy dropped incendiaries on Satra without reason or warning, Councilor. They have killed billions of Fangrin and wiped out entire worlds. The Raggers use the bodies of our fallen for meat! What makes you think they will accept peace? What can we possibly offer them?” Stone’s voice climbed and he struggled to keep it even. “How did they respond?”

  “Until we meet the Raggers, we won’t know what we can offer them, or what they want,” said Becker.

  “You’ve arranged a meeting?”

  “What else?” said Clevenger. “The details of peace are never settled when the two parties are lightyears apart. This must be achieved face-to-face.”

  “How many of my warships do you intend to ask for, Councilors?” said Stone with narrowed eyes. “I will not commit a significant portion of my fleet to a rendezvous with an alien species who have proven themselves murderous and untrustworthy.”

  “You believe this is already doomed to failure, Admiral,” said Clevenger, with a note of disapproval. “I expected wholehearted support.”

  “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than reliable peace with every alien bastard in the universe, Councilors. Just don’t expect me to be optimistic.” Stone fixed his gaze on the viewscreen. “The past behavior of the Raggers makes me certain I can predict what they’ll do in the future.”

  “Do you even know if the Fangrin sued for peace, Admiral?” asked Clevenger. “Certainly they showed little effort when it came to finding a settlement with the Unity League.”

  “I don’t know how much effort the Fangrin expended,” Stone replied truthfully.

  “Therefore, we can’t guess at how successful a concerted diplomatic push will be,” said Huff.

  “Wars start, wars end,” said Clevenger. “It has always been this way. Without dialogue, how can we know? The alternative is the extinction of humanity.”

  “I am not for a moment suggesting that we shouldn’t speak with the Raggers, Councilor. I am simply confident in the outcome.” Stone drummed his fingers on the top of his desk. “And do the Fangrin know what you intend?”

  “No, they do not, Admiral,” said Huff. “And nor will they - not unless circumstances dictate it unavoidable.”

  “Their tharniol is currently powering our lightspeed drives, Councilors. The Fangrin have promised shipments of rust ore so that we can help them fight our joint enemy. What happens to our alliance if they learn that we are dealing with the Raggers?”

  “We owe the dogs nothing,” wheezed Huff. “If it wasn’t for their aggression, the Unity League would b
e in a much stronger position than now. We wouldn’t require their rust, since our own mines on Centrium would be more than adequate to meet our demands.”

  Huff was right in a way. The war against the Fangrin had been a constant drain on humanity. On the other hand, it had also hardened the military into an effective and highly-experienced force. Without war, Stone knew the League Council would never have authorized such high levels of funding for the ULAF. Even the depleted fleet was vastly more extensive than it would have been if the Fangrin had never shown up. Stone knew his own logic was equally shaky, but he would prefer to be facing the Raggers with his current forces than with a much smaller peacetime fleet that didn’t know how to fight.

  “The question still stands. How many ships am I required to prepare and how many personnel are they to carry?” asked Stone.

  Of all the answers Stone was expecting, he got something completely different.

  “Only one, Admiral. An FTL personnel transport is what we require,” said Huff. “You may think us stupid, but I assure you we are not. We have no intention of sending an entire carrier group into what may well be a trap. If the Raggers prove treacherous, it won’t matter what size escort we bring.”

  The surprises kept on coming.

  “We are also putting our money where our mouths are,” added Becker. “I will be leading this mission, alongside Councilors Huff and Clevenger.”

  “Of course, we will require military representation, Admiral,” said Clevenger.

  For a moment, Stone thought he’d been blindsided and the Unity Council was about to insist he go along for the ride. He wasn’t a coward, but it would be an act of stupendous idiocy to send the head of the ULAF for exploratory talks with a treacherous alien species.

  “Someone of your personal recommendation, Admiral. Perhaps a high-ranking intelligence officer,” said Huff.

  “I will look into it,” Stone replied. “How long until this meeting takes place?”

  “Ten days.”

  “And when will you depart?”

  “In seven days, Admiral. The Raggers have chosen a meeting place that is only three days lightspeed travel from Earth.”

  “Very well. Send me whatever documentation you have on the mission and I will make the arrangements.”

  “One last thing, Admiral,” said Huff. “I am sure you appreciate the sensitivity of this mission. Word of it must not get out. Is that understood?”

  Stone wasn’t a man to let his mouth run and he didn’t like the implication that he was. “This will be treated with the same confidentiality as any of the ULAF’s high priority missions, Councilor,” he said coldly. “I don’t need reminding.”

  The meeting ended and when the viewscreen went dark, Stone spent a couple of minutes staring at nothing. He didn’t like any of the three League councilors, but he was grudgingly forced to admit they had some balls if they were going to fly out to meet the Raggers, especially when they could have easily chosen someone else to go in their place. Huff’s closing words continued to bother him, though he couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.

  You didn’t get to Stone’s position if you couldn’t adapt to changing circumstances, or you wasted time getting angry at the unavoidable crap. He poked his forefinger at one of the buttons on his desktop communicator and got on with the preparations.

  Chapter Two

  The FTL video link quality was even worse than usual. Bursts of static sprinkled across the screen like dense grey snow, making the feed sometimes so bad that it seemed like the connection was ready to drop out completely.

  On the feed was a room. This room contained a table, a blue-upholstered couch and a coffee table. A painting on the wall depicted a mundane nighttime cityscape. The face of a small girl appeared, with blonde hair tied up, a cute nose and a missing front tooth. Alice Conway leaned across and adjusted the camera lens so that the girl was centered in the viewscreen.

  “Hey, Daddy,” said Emily Conway.

  Lieutenant Tanner Conway thought his daughter looked sad and it broke his heart to see it. He did his best to look cheerful. “Hey, Pumpkin, how are you doing?”

  “Not so good, Daddy. We miss you and I don’t have any friends now that mommy and I moved out of Durham.”

  “I miss you too.” He leaned closer to the lens. “A few more weeks and then you can go home.”

  “Promise?”

  Conway sighed inwardly. “Once the Unity League has dealt with the bad guys, everything will go back to how it was.” He changed the subject quickly. “Your Mom and I have been talking.”

  “About the puppy? Does this mean I can have one?”

  “Just as soon as you and your mom are allowed home.” He tried to smile.

  “It’s going to be a chocolate Labrador and I’m going to call it Pudding.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out.”

  “It’s going to be the best dog ever!”

  The screen went blank before Conway could speak to his wife again. He swore. FTL comms carried a high tharniol price and Conway was only given a two-minute allowance per week. Once you factored in the travel time, there wasn’t much opportunity to say more than a few words. He stared at the display a moment longer and wished he was back home rather than on the godforsaken world where he currently found himself stationed.

  Conway turned at the buzzing sound which indicated the inner airlock door was open. A moment later, he heard the door clunk shut and footsteps approached through the interconnecting rooms. It was the next soldier’s opportunity to have two minutes reminder of what normality was.

  A man appeared in the doorway, dressed in combat armor except for the helmet which he carried in one hand.

  “Hey, Lieutenant.” He was a corporal who Conway half-recognized, with hair cropped so short it was difficult to make out the color. His eyes held the spark of decency. A good man.

  Conway’s seat scraped on the unfinished steel floor as he got to his feet. “Looks like it’s your turn now, Corporal.”

  “Two minutes during which I can forget I’m here, sir. I’ve got a kid now and this is the high point of my week.”

  Nothing in the man’s face suggested he was anything other than sincere. Conway gave him a nod, picked up his own helmet from the floor next to the chair and squeezed past.

  “Make them count,” he said, remembering how his own rehearsed words had been instantly forgotten the moment the link formed.

  The cabin held two other rooms like this one, linked by a short corridor leading to the airlock. Conway retrieved his Gilner assault rifle from the rack of identical weapons. This one had his initials etched on it, so he knew it was his. TGC and with a full magazine. The same as it always was.

  Conway fastened his helmet in place and went through the airlock. Stark, blinding sunlight poured through the opening when the electronically-operated outer door slid open. He descended three steps and onto rough, grey stone. The temperature gauge on the display inside his helmet told him it was 150 degrees Fahrenheit, with no breathable atmosphere.

  “Welcome to Roltar,” he said bitterly.

  He paused at the bottom of the steps and looked around. The ULAF had set up a base here – it was another one of the military’s temporary installations, comprising boxlike cabins laid out in a grid, and a variety of larger, rectangular structures assembled by teams of engineers. As of this moment, it was home to 3120 Unity League personnel.

  Conway turned left towards one of the mess halls. It was daytime, but the sky was utterly dark and the sun appeared like an oversized white-yellow disk. Its unfiltered light beat upon the surface, creating shadows and contrasts that resembled nothing on any populated world.

  Directly ahead, a thousand meters away, Conway saw the high sides of the lifter which had brought most of the kit here. It was one of the larger models, able to carry several million tons into lightspeed and drop its cargo off safely wherever it was needed. Conway remembered the two-day journey to get here – it was bumpy and uncomfor
table, with much more turbulence than usual.

  The specks of people and vehicles moved in and out of the lifter’s open main load bay. It looked much busier than usual and he wondered if Colonel Tucker had ordered an inventory check. Then, he caught the sound of the spaceship’s engines, carried on the persistent breeze which blew across the rocky plain on this part of Roltar. Usually, they kept the engines offline to preserve fuel and the lifter wasn’t due to leave before the exercises finished in a couple of weeks.

  He didn’t have answers and put it from his mind. The route to the mess hall was an easy left-right-left through the single-story cabins. Conway didn’t pass many other personnel on the way. Most of the troops were a couple of hundred klicks east, taking part in wargames in the rocky terrain over that way. He knew the area well, having only returned a few hours ago.

  Conway didn’t reach the mess hall. The earpiece in his helmet hummed for a split second and a name appeared on his HUD to let him know who it was had opened a channel.

  “Lieutenant Conway,” came the greeting.

  It was Captain Guise. The tone of the man’s voice made Conway instantly sure that something was up. “Yes, sir. What is it?”

  Guise didn’t piss around. “It’s your lucky day, Lieutenant. Someone up high has requested you by name and there’s a transport due in any time now.”

  Conway stopped in his tracks. “Do you have any more details, sir?”