Parasite: The Scourge War Book II, page 1
PARASITE
The Scourge War Book II
A.A. Pierce
Pierce Publishing
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Copyright © 2024 by A.A. Pierce
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
PARALYZE
Acknowledgements
Also by A.A. Pierce
About the author
Chapter One
“Of course, Captain,” Admiral Lisa Buzzetti said over the commscreen in Ryan Mogaghan’s quarters. Her tone was rigidly polite, as if she were choosing her words carefully. She didn’t dare move her eyes from Ryan’s olive face. “I’d be delighted to speak with you. Please make an appointment with Commander Young here and we can have a sit-down at—”
“Now,” Ryan insisted. He knew his tone was disrespectful to the point of insubordination, but he didn’t care. From what he could tell, all he and his crew had survived in the last few days was because of some ice-cold, calculating decision either Buzzetti or one of her colleagues had made. And he wanted to know why.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Captain.”
“Why not?”
“Because, uh …” She cast her eyes to Young’s unseen computer screen.
He bailed her out with what sounded like completely made-up rubbish. “The, uh, admiral is booked solid, Captain. The first opening I have is—”
She interrupted, “Your first priority is the health of your ship and crew. I’m ordering you to”—she tapped a few keys on Young’s computer—“Tishtrya Station for a complete overhaul and some much-deserved R and R.” The corners of her mouth sprang up in a very well-rehearsed grin.
Ryan did not appreciate her sideswiping him, especially after everything he, his ship, and her crew had just been through. He growled through his teeth, “Admiral?”
“Off to Tishtrya you go. Notify me once you get there.” She ended the call.
The screen went black. Lieutenant Commander Shivani Chakravorti lay reflected in it. Hardly hiding herself from the screen’s camera, the bed’s sheets only partly draped over her sweat-stained naked body. His eyes traced the curve of her cheek down to her chin, the line of her neck, and the round of her shoulder as it sloped down to her perfect, barely concealed breasts.
They’d only slept together a few times, and those arguably as a release from the grueling pressure of the last five days, but he already knew he was falling for her. Hard.
“Well,” she began in her upper-class London accent, “that was a bit of a cock-up, wasn’t it?”
He was still steaming over how Buzzetti had so casually dismissed him. “Putting it mildly.”
“That bitch sent us to die … on a bleeding suicide mission to Shennong!”
He faced her. Embarrassment suddenly washed over him after such an intense conversation with Buzzetti, given that he was buck naked from the waist down. “Looks that way.”
The pieces snapped together for Shivani. She sat up. The sheets hanging from her breasts dropped to the bed. “Oh my God. That’s why she promoted and transferred you.”
“That’d be my guess.”
“So that when you failed …”
“Both Shennong and the Paragon destroyed …”
“Fleet Command could blame everything on you.”
“Dead men tell no tales.”
“You said someone altered your official Fleet record? Jacked up your leadership and tactical?”
“That’s right.”
“Of course. That way, no one would ever question your emergency field promotion.”
“Well,” he snickered, “not no one.”
She shook her head. “Blimey.”
“Yeah.”
She raised her eyebrows with faux concern. “Know what I think you should do?”
“What’s that?”
“Remove that blasted half uniform and come back to bed.”
He hesitated, eyeing his side of the bed. “That’s not gonna solve anything.”
She scoffed and peeled the sheet back a few inches, revealing her legs. “I beg to differ, darling. I can’t think of a single thing in this world that morning sex with me wouldn’t solve.”
He smiled as he dropped his uniform top to the floor. “I see your point.”
Ryan lay sprawled in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind swimming in the previous day’s events.
Shivani rested her head on his chest, her relaxed expression one of cheerful bliss. “What are you thinking about? Buzzetti still?”
“Nothing.” He lowered his gaze to the top of her head.
She propped her chin up on her arms, locking her eyes on his face until he looked directly at her. “Oh, now, don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Avoid me, Ryan.”
“Sorry.”
“If you’re enjoying this little arrangement of ours …” She pointed at her nose, then at his.
“You’re right.”
“Which I know you are.” The straight line across her lips ripened to a smile.
“Just wasn’t sure how to put it.”
“Then say that, not, ‘Nothing.’”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I am. So …?”
“It’s like I told you before.”
“Well, tell me again.”
“The Scourge. They let us get away. Could’ve destroyed us at Shennong, but they let us go.”
“And as I said, they didn’t just let us get away. They put up a fight. They killed thousands of us, the Sydney, Shennong, whatever that other ship’s name was. Ensign Lapan.”
“But, Shivani, they could’ve easily annihilated us. They didn’t. Doesn’t make any sense. Not only that, but the fifteen Scourge that stayed at Shennong?”
“The ones who didn’t chase after the Sydney?”
“I think those ones let us destroy them.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t say anything. She instead patted his chest. “Should probably get going.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
She scooted off him, got out of bed, and collected her clothes.
He did as well, but was still so distracted that he’d barely picked up his underwear by the time she’d fully dressed.
“Why do you think they did it?” she asked.
“What’s that?”
“Fleet Command? Why would they send us on a suicide mission?”
“I have no idea. I’ll meet with the senior staff. See what they think.”
“Sounds like a good place to start.”
“What I’d love to do is slam Buzzetti up against the wall, jam a rifle under her chin, and make her sweat till she just spilled it all.”
“While I can’t in good conscience advocate your assaulting a superior female officer, I wonder why you couldn’t at least have a little chat.”
“You heard her. We’re ordered to Tishtrya.”
Shivani sauntered over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I heard something, though honestly, after the beat-down the Scourge gave us, I can’t be sure how much damage they inflicted on our communication systems.”
He laughed. “Are you saying I should blatantly defy Admiral Buzzetti’s orders, fly the Paragon to Terra Prima, and confront her about our suicide mission?”
Shivani squinted with more faux concern. “I’m saying nothing of the kind! All I’m suggesting is if we happened to go to Prima and you happened to encounter that sanctimonious condescending bitch …”
“I like the way you think, Shivani.”
“Of course you do, Ryan.”
They kissed.
“Breakfast?” he asked.
She frowned. “Can’t. Already ducked out of a good chunk of last night. If I don’t show up again this morning …”
“Yeah.” He leaned in so close the tips of their noses touched. “I wanna see you again.”
“You’re only human.”
“When can I?”
“Well, with this new course to Fleet Command you’re about to plot, I can’t promise that Grant won’t need all of us to keep the ship in the air long enough.”
“I understand.”
“That said, though, I’m sure I could sneak away now and again.”
“I’d like tha
“Of course you would.”
He released her from their embrace. “We should go.”
She nodded. “That we should.”
He wrapped his arms around her one more time and gave her a final deep kiss. “See you soon.”
“Have a good day, Ryan.” She left.
He wasn’t ready to start his day. Not yet. He faced his quarters and paced. Now that his conversation with Buzzetti was over, he could finally focus on something that had been digging at him. That he’d been avoiding. That he didn’t want to face.
Captain Gerald McNeil.
The captain of the Byzantium had been Ryan’s CO for years before his abrupt promotion and transfer to the Paragon. And while Ryan had always looked up to the older man as a father figure, what had been haunting him was McNeil’s involvement in that promotion.
Because of Ryan’s stagnancy in Ops, he couldn’t believe that McNeil had actively sought his advancement, even in the alleged emergency under which it had occurred. That meant that Admiral Buzzetti and perhaps even United Earth’s President Whitcomb had come searching for someone and landed on the Byzantium. That suggested something that knotted Ryan’s stomach.
Because he’d been chosen as a completely disposable lackey whom, if killed, the Fleet could easily dismiss, didn’t that mean that it had been McNeil’s job to identify him as such? Didn’t that even worse imply that out of all the officers on all the Fleet’s ships, he was the one whom McNeil presumed the Fleet would miss the least?
Ryan knew that all these disturbing thoughts were only conjecture. He did not know McNeil’s motivations or actions before their little sit-down with Buzzetti and Whitcomb in that tiny conference room on the Byzantium only a few days ago. But Ryan wanted to find out. Desperately. “Computer, location of the Byzantium?”
“The Byzantium is currently on a mission near the Gamma-46 colony.”
“Distance from Prima at high FTL?” He knew he wouldn’t have time to swing by during the Paragon’s sojourn at Terra Prima, but he still wanted to keep tabs.
“At least three days, sir.”
“Do me a favor.”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Track her. Alert me as to any significant changes in her position or mission.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but could you please narrow your parameters?”
“Never mind. Just keep an eye on her. Be ready to give me any updates when requested.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll make note.”
Chapter Two
“We’re going to Terra Prima, Fleet Command,” Ryan announced to his senior staff in his stateroom.
“What?” The creases in Chief Engineer Grant Peters’s forehead pressed together. “There’s gotta be a closer station where we can get repairs.”
“There is. Tishtrya.”
“So why aren’t we going there?” Chief Medical Officer Liam Stevens leaned back, resting his hands on his potbelly.
“Because I have unfinished business with Admiral Buzzetti that I intend to, well, finish.”
“What’s that?” Even while seated, Chief Tactical Officer Daniel Varga towered over the others, so when he expressed mere curiosity, his words carried a far more serious edge.
“The fact that our little trip to Shennong was a waste-of-time suicide mission.”
His staff nodded. He was glad to see they all agreed.
“Why do you think she sent us there, sir?” Chief Security Officer Matthew Driver’s tone was flat as usual, but he leaned forward as he spoke, as if attempting to draw Ryan into a conspiracy.
“I’ve been thinking about that ever since the battle,” Ryan admitted. “Only thing I can figure is the Fleet used us, Shennong, the Sydney, and the, uh, Chal to distract the Scourge from some other operation.”
“Like what?” First officer Commander Ashley Mendez rested her chin on her clasped hands. Her dark, tightly bound ponytail swished behind her.
“That’s where I was hoping Mr. Varga could help us out,” Ryan said. “You seen anything in the last few days that might fit the bill?”
“If there was something, and we were meant as a distraction from it,” Daniel said, “there probably wasn’t anything on the comms before it happened. I’ll check again once we’re done here.”
“With respect, Captain,” Ashley began, “even if there was some other operation, and even if you do confront Buzzetti, I don’t see what you hope to accomplish that’d be worth a detour to Prima.” She offered Grant a friendly nod. “I agree with Peters that repairs take priority.”
“To quote a very sage leader, ‘Gotta nip ’em in the bud …’” Ryan began.
Ashley smirked coyly, recognizing her words quoted back to her.
“If I don’t confront Buzzetti,” Ryan continued, “then she’ll believe she can walk all over us and we’ll lie down and take it.”
Daniel raised his hand. “With respect, sir, isn’t that our job?”
Ryan shook his head. “It’s true that Admiral Buzzetti is our superior officer, but that doesn’t make her a god and doesn’t make every order she hands down holy writ. Look, just like the rest of you, I’m happy to do my part in the war, but I won’t needlessly sacrifice my crew, certainly not without being given a damn good reason. Anything less than that is unacceptable, and the admiral needs to know that.”
“What do you expect she’ll do?” Ashley asked.
“At least yell at me, at most some kind of disciplinary action. But even if so, she won’t be able to deny us.”
Grant sighed. “Guess we’ll hold ’er together long as we can.”
“There’s one other thing, and it’s a bit more complicated,” Ryan warned. “It’s my contention that the Scourge let us live.”
The group exploded in incredulous denial.
Ashley smacked the table. “Did you not see what they did to us?”
“What they did to Lapan?” Matthew asked.
“I’m still patching up Shennong’s people’s bruises!” Liam complained.
“Let us live?” Daniel asked.
Ryan waited patiently for them to expel their exasperation. “The fact is, we were outmatched and outgunned. Ten to one.”
“That’s no reason to think they let us go!” Ashley said.
“You’re seriously suggesting that with all the shit they put us through …” Daniel chimed in.
“Varga, didn’t you say that with the status of our armor, all they needed to take us out was a few direct shots?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah, but—”
“And did they fire those direct shots?”
“No, but that’s …”
“Mendez, when given the chance to destroy us, did they or did they not hesitate?”
“I mean,” Ashley began, “it looked like they did, but …”
“They destroyed the Chal without wasting a breath. They chased down, then blew away the Sydney. They spared us.”
“What’s your point, Captain?” Ashley’s tone was pointedly harsh and impatient.
Ryan regarded her. There’s the insubordinate Ashley I remember. “Why?” He faced the others. “I wanna know why they spared us.”
His staff glanced at each other, but no one offered anything.
“As we make our way to Prima,” Ryan continued, “I want all of you to consider that question and bring me whatever you come up with. Hopefully, together, we can figure this out. To Earth. Dismissed. Except you, Varga.”
Everyone got up. All but Daniel and Ashley shuffled out.
“Danny, could you give us a sec?” Ashley asked.
Daniel nodded and stepped into the hallway.
“Something else, Commander?” Ryan asked.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Ashley asked.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean? It was because they scanned you with their little sphere-probe discombobulator.”
Ryan’s stomach churned with dread at her outright nailing exactly what the Scourge had done to him. He feigned ignorance. “‘Scanned’?”
“Oh, please, Ryan. You are not that dumb. They shot you with their death ray. Your adrenaline spiked. Your speech slurred. Your brain activity shot off the charts. For once. You’re the only variable! One UE station, three Fleet ships, the only one they didn’t tear to pieces was the one holding their precious little guinea pig?”
“Interesting theory, Commander, but it’s not like we can call them up and ask.”
