by Ray O'Neil
Crimes Of War
Invasion Wars 1
Ray O’Neil
Copyright © 2016 Ray O’Neil
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
DISCLAIMER
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This story contains explicit language and violence. This book is intended for adults 18+ years of age.
Blurb
Earths first contact with foreign life occurred in 2341. A technologically advanced race that lives on the acts of war. Seven years later and the invasions haven’t stopped since. Emich Aumeier has been there since the beginning, smack dab in the middle of it all. Being the only person who can use the new prototype, the Siegfried Exoframe, the weight of the world is on his shoulders.
With genetic manipulation, cultist uprisings, three world-wide factions fighting for complete control, and a new enemy weapon on the way, Earth’s chance of staying under human rule is growing narrower by the day. If Emich fails, there will be no hope for tomorrow.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Prologue
It was only recently, in the year 2348, when the Mars Colony had become fully established, taking several hundred years of probing and immigration to become what it had accomplished. Starting around the late twenty-third century, private migrates were able to travel through space without the help of government funding, due to the decrease in the cost of travel and the increase in power of major corporations, mostly originating within the UACA(United Americas Corporation Alliance). The lack of governmental influence outside of Earth also helped and inspired these “pilgrims” to do what they did. Using an electronic tethering system to allow ships to easily find their way to the red planet–a system that would be commonly referred to as the “Bifröst Spaceway”–ships were able to be unmanned and arrive at their destination in as an efficient manner as possible.
Still, that didn’t mean Degory Tilley didn’t experience any turmoil during the trip. The CMS(Corporate Migrate Ship) he was working for wasn’t quite equipped for the confrontation it received mid-trip. Being hit by a Yellowjacker pack wasn’t the worst, but it did give the ship more damage than what was comfortable. The lower levels where he and the other slaves were packed inside of had the least amount of oxygen reserves, meaning they had to fight for air in a literal sense. Running out of bullets during the first clash and losing his left eye in the second one made him stay awake at night with his one and only eye open; keeping his half-broken hand on the cattle cleaver under his pillow.
All he had to tell himself was, “It was worth it. It was worth it.”
He had to be grateful, since the rumors being bounced between the neighboring ships made it seem like his ship was doing pretty well. Others already had mutiny overtake their owners. Some were even ghost ships, ones that just followed their electronic tether with nobody alive on board due numerous reasons. Mass murders, cultist overtakings, disease, ventilation malfunctions, or construction faults. The list went on and on, with nobody able to do anything about it except clean out what was in the ships once they land and send it out for the next batch.
The ships in the class size he was in were able to carry about 5,000 passengers. However, with the way the UACA modified its intended layout, they were able to squeeze in over 10,000. Some of the later stowaways had to sleep in the halls, with Degory Tilley one of the lucky few who held his own bunk. A bed, a toilet, and a single set of clothes. It wasn’t much, but it was more than most of the Lost Souls on board.
Anything was better than staying on Earth, where he was wanted as a criminal in several countries. Degory Tilley was his “current” name, with the real one lost long ago. He assumed another stowaway was already using it, taking it from the long list of fellow Lost Souls that piled up in the network database. AWOL soldiers, big time dealers and killers, most wanted and most wealthy. These were the people he shared space with, within and nearby his half-functioning ship.
It was the only way for Mars to become what it fought to become. Coming out of their ships and into airlocked domes, the first colonist were some of the most dedicated. Spending their entire lives and everything they worked their way up for just to create a tiny area that could sustain life. Food centers, greenhouses, Bifröst Anchor Ports, power plants, they were needed to continue and achieve their dream. The dream of a better world, away from the old one.
Progress was slow, but it was still progress. Every day, Degory observed the timer counting down the months. Once it became days, the feeling of wanting to go back disappeared with the chains of Earth life. His past was nothing now. The trip was nothing now. Now, it was only thoughts of his newfound life and his contribution to his new world.
On the view screen within his cramped room, he could see the live feed of Mars, seeing it grow closer and closer. The above lightning storm that carried their ship towards its destination flashed in silence as they floated through the vast of space. Bright flares appeared beyond the planet’s outline, but nobody paid any attention to them. Degory didn’t even realize what it was, thinking it was part of the spaceway; as did most of the Martians who had been living on the planet their entire lives. Mars was being visited by more than the pilgrim fleet.
Degory already had his new life on Mars planned out. Land, set up a housing unit, work in a Food Center, and maybe make enough MM to get a new eye. A simple life that wasn’t going to be interrupted or ruined by anything the Earthlings could do. Unfortunately, he didn’t expect the company they were soon to receive. Even though the flares on the other side of Mars continued and were bright enough to be mistake for solar flares, everyone in and around Mars were oblivious to the damage that was coming to them.
Radar stations expected the migrates to arrive on one side, while their space sensors detected a massive anomaly. Mistaken for an approaching asteroid big enough to do on Mars what one did to the dinosaurs back on Earth, all they could do was alert approaching ships while anyone who could react in time tried to escape. Nobody was able to escape. Alarms sounded in the ship, bracing everyone for the sudden halt. Being launched across his room in his sleep, Degory was awoken with the pain of a separated shoulder and his hidden cleaver finding its way into his hand. Pinned to the wall and with his arm now useless, he reached into his pocket and injected himself with Num to find the strength to pull the blade out.
He’s been living off of it since there wasn’t enough food to fill his stomach, so a little overdose was the least of his worries.
Falling flat on the floor, he quickly got up and ran out, hearing the automated announcement repeat. “Attention. Attention. Emergency standby has been initiated. An unknown threat has been detected. Please stay in your designated room until further instructions.” His personal blood trail mixed with a few others as he ran down the hall, red lights flashing.
All of the slav
es gathered in front of the screen that showed what was going on outside of the ship, the hanger-like cafeteria area filled with shouting and fighting. People were already dying in front of him before they could see the incoming beam of light. Right when the screen turned a blinding white, the area was cut in half from the top; everyone who was anywhere near the beam disintegrated on impact, including him. Degory’s trip was for nothing, as it was for the rest of the Lost Souls. Anyone trying to escape Mars in their own ships, no matter how fast they could go, were also hit by similar beams of light before they could leave the atmosphere.
A shadow was casted over the Mars Colony, by an incoming force big enough to blot out the sun. Under the cover of their artificial night, they landed and destroyed everything man had influenced on Mars. Over a hundred years of progress, erased in under a day. Mars had some of the highest technology man had to offer, and yet it still wasn’t enough. The surprise attack by the Niflheim wasn’t the first and it wasn’t going to be the last.
Mars was not the final target of the Niflheim.
The Armies
UAM: The United American Military, made up of what was previously separate North, south, and Central America is now one whole nation under the capitalist government. War is a business to them, and the more they fight, the more money they make. Their idea is to profit from the aliens by being the “leader” in the war effort, to gain the support of every other nation.
EAR: the European and Australian Regime is a combined order of nations under the rule of a united alliance that has Russia as its main “owner”, meaning each country is a different region, but they all are under one government. Their idea of the war is to benefit from the alien influence and create a new world with the technology gained. Their idea is to be the “good guy” while their ways of dealing with things are far too cruel for the media to broadcast.
NDA: The New Dynasty of Asia: Ruled under a single ruler in a dictatorship, the NDA is known for being the “reject of the world” where anyone there is on their own. Home of the majority of “occupied” territories, the NDA protects them from the other armies, claiming that the alien overtake is part of our destiny. Being the main hold of the cultist, it is also the army that is ready and willing to make fighting off the Niflheim as difficult as possible. They are seen as the main “terrorist” organization of the world.
Weaponry
MBC(main battle cannon): the MBC is the main weapon used by Beowulf rigs. Due to its large caliber of rounds, the MBC is only able to fire at burst of 2, with anything more causing the gun to break out of the user’s grip. The gun is known as a “Hisser” for its recoil reducing system that turns the energy into steam and releases it from the holes around the barrel.
ASG(Assault Secondary Gun): smaller than the MBC, the ASG is used for close quarters and high level of gunfire. With multiple barrels, it’s able to fill the area with bullets, and is also equipped with a “quickshot” function that releases part of its magazine to resemble a shotgun blast.
Chapter 1
It was more of a freezer than a holding cell. Three white walls and a fourth one made of shatterproof glass — only to show more white walls. The cell across from his was emptied just yesterday. The Spaniard who was in it didn’t talk much, which was for the best. All he knew was what he overheard one night where he stabbed his CO in his sleep. Something about a girl, something not even worth mentioning. Girls, running from battle, losing their cool or losing their minds; it didn’t take much for someone to end up in this facility.
All it took was being seen as “unfit for battle”.
A strong tap came from the glass nearby, sounding like a hollow heart beat. “Hey, Emich, you still alive in there?”
His Russian accent was thick, uneducated. Emich didn’t know his real name, but everyone who was there before him always called him Chatterbox. Most of those guys were already gone, with Chatterbox being one of the longest staying inmates. Emich never got the chance to see him, since their cells were side by side, but he always imagined him as a scrawny and nerdy looking guy. Someone who was too awkward and introverted until something broke him out of his shell and he never learned how to shut up ever since.
Washing his face in the sink, Emich held himself on the rim. Even though he hadn’t worked out much since his incarceration, he still kept his massive size. His fatigue was all in his head. “What is it, Chatterbox?”
“Who do you think they are going to take away today? I got my bet on the new guy. They’ve been taking the new meat more often, if my eyes are working right.”
Emich walked over to his side of the glass, holding his head on his arm as he put all of his weight into it. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“How do you think they choose, huh? Do they pick a number or do they pick the guy they hate the most?”
“If that was true and I was them, I would have picked you a long time ago.”
“Ahh, you’re always with the wisecracks. Is that a German thing? I never see any Germans in this place. Why do you think that is? Is it a bias thing? If you ask me, I think it’s a bias thing. The Germans are always getting away with everything. But it’s no surprise since they practically run the ERA. On this part of the world, at least.”
Emich rubbed the side of his aching head. “Nobody asked you, Chatterbox.”
From the cell to his left, the person in there was watching the news on his handheld, a luxury given to the nonviolent people that were put in there. “... Tragedy struck today as the Mars Colony was, in fact, invaded by what is believed to be the Niflheim; the same alien race that held a presence on Earth seven years ago. The size of the new invasion force is unknown at this, but all communication has been lost with the Mars Colony and all ships traveling through the Bifröst Spaceway. Estimated losses are between twenty to forty million, with hundreds of ships gone missing once the spaceway was disconnected. World leaders have declared war this morning with the Niflheim and have initiated the draft pact worldwide…”
Emich pounded a fist on the glass. “Hey, turn that thing off!”
When the volume increased on the handheld, Emich returned to bed, angry. He wasn’t surprised the Niflheim had shown their ugly faces again. If the new invasion force was anything more than the previous ones, he was glad he was in a secret facility and not up on the surface world where he would have to put up with those things. From the experience he had with them, he knew he surprisingly had a better chance of survival in a place where people were picked by random and disappeared forever.
While the news continued in the other cell, loud enough to echo down the hall, the doors to the holding cells whooshed open. Seeing the guards coming in, the guy next to Emich quickly turned down the volume low enough to practically be silent. Chatterbox watched the three men waltz down the lit up corridor, holding his breath. Seeing them pass right by his cell, he let out a sigh of relief, heading back to his bed and almost passing out. The scuffling of boots stopped in front of Emich’s glass wall.
The unarmored agent put his hand on the side of the cell, leaning his face into the screen to have it scan his face as well. With a loud hiss, the glass wall lowered into the floor. Stepping into the opened cell, the agent and his two guards stood in front of Emich’s bed. Covered head to toe in body armor and holding shock batons in hand, the guards acted as a wall to protect the agent from the ex ERA soldier. Emich turned over when he noticed their bodies were covering the overhead light.
“What do you want?” He asked bitterly, having a feeling he knew the answer already.
The man behind the guards was nothing but a scowl and a shining bald head. The pure white lab suit he wore made him look more like a mad scientist than an agent of the SSP. “Former ERA Master Sergeant Emich Aumeier. Your waiting period is now officially over and it is time for you to fulfill your agreement to the project. Any objections will be dealt with by force. You may come with us willingly or you shall be dealt with accordingly.”
“Fair enough.”
Holding him firmly, now that he was unable to use his hands, the guards marched him out of the cell, the SSP agent leading the way. Heading back the way they came, Emich was finally able to walk past Chatterbox’s cell and see how he looked for the first time. He realized it was better as a mystery. Maybe he was a normal looking guy before whatever happened to him, but now he looked like an ogre that was burned alive by angry villagers. Most of his teeth were missing and part of his face drooped down, his right eye welded shut by the horrific burns.
The working side of his face lifted into a partial smirk. “Looks like I was wrong, Emich. It wasn’t one of the new guys this time.”
His amused and hacking laugh trailed off as they drew closer to the door. The agent followed the same procedure as before, holding his hand on the panel and leaning into the sensor. While he did, Emich looked over at the guards, who were watching the agent unlock the door. The door beeped open, Emich sending a quick elbow to the throat of the guy on his left. Before the one on his right could ready his baton, the inmate jabbed a foot into the guards lower leg, dropping him to the ground. Pushing him to the side, Emich rammed a shoulder into the agent, sending his head straight into the sensor’s glass.