Table of Contents
The Recruitment
Prologue
Rude Awakening
Hope
Training
Time to Shake Things Up
Time to Get Suited Up!
What’s the Use of a New Toy if You Don’t Use It?
Mecha Battles
Problems and Solutions
Engineers Up to Their Tricks
Marriage?
Why Me?
A New Reality
The Golden Refuge
Wormholes and Chiefs
First Actions
Engineer’s Territory
Vacation’s Over
Best Laid Plans
Generals
The Ships Are Coming! The Ships Are Coming!
Slop and Best Laid Plans
A Man and His Rocket
It’s Going Too Well
More Scared, Terrified, and Alive Than Ever
How Did We Do It?
Easy Prizes and Scary Revelations
Mechas Without Rules
Rebuilding and Preparing
I Need to Find a New Hiding Place
Final Preparations
Hellooo Universe! These Monkeys Can Wormhole!
Awakening
Damned Men!
Time to Kick Ass and Take Names
Enemy at the Blast Doors
Missed Me?
Of Maniacs and Mad Men
Husbands!
What Was Broken Can Come Back Stronger
Time to Take Back What’s Ours
BOOK 2
Coming Home
Misunderstandings
Rude Awakening
Back to Sol
Changes
Taking Back What is Ours
What the Hell Are the Crazy Aliens Up to Now?
Busy Day
Big Day
Reunions
Beers, Brides, and Politics
Slackers!
Rebuilding
Small Victories
In Position
Perfect Timing
Time is Never On One’s Side
Surprises
Riding On Luck and Lies
Second Battle for Earth Begins
Highs and Lows
Tallying the Win/Loss Column
Time to Rebuild Again
Time to Face the Music
Time Waits For No Man or Woman
Recruiting Drive and Changes
Gaining a Press Officer
Overhaul
It’s Never One Thing at a Time
Unexpected Guests
I Hate Surprises
Rough Journeys
A Rushed Departure
Arrivals
Crazier Than an Avarian?
Blood and War Oath
Patience is a Virtue
It Always Starts Off Slowly
Then Comes the Bright Lights and Fireworks
Then Come the Surprises
From the Belly of the Beast
To Quote a Good One: I Love It When a Plan Comes Together
Aftermath
The Recruitment
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Prologue
Lady Fairgate looked over the jewel of what had been the Union. The planet was called Worshun. It rested in Quarst—the third system colonized by the first race, the Dovark. It no longer glittered, but waited in gray and black solitude.
“It is confirmed,” Captain Lifendi, her most trusted captain, said. Trust was something that was hard to find in the Syndicate.
Lady Fairgate had molded the Syndicate together, forcing pirate captains, smugglers, mobs, and crime lords to bow to her.
Now it looked as though she might’ve been too hasty.
“Are you sure?” It was rare she asked twice.
Lifendi didn’t hesitate in case he might offend her. “Yes, my lady.”
Fairgate wanted to lash out at the holo-screen in front of her. She thought of the thrill she would gain from destroying it. Instead, she nodded slightly.
“Very well. I want that new slave planet. I don’t care if the station’s half built—enforce recruitment through any means necessary. With those weak Kuruvians dying off on their home world and the Sarenmenti without a home system or original birthing crèches, we need a new race.” She was rambling and she knew it. She reined herself in, turning to Lifendi, who looked at her knees.
“Have Nancy move to the new slave system, Sol. I don’t want anyone from this sector doing it. They might connect the dots. Use reliable sourcing in that sector,” she said.
“My lady.” He bowed slightly, pausing.
“What is it?” she asked mildly. If it was anyone else, she would’ve been tempted to have them flayed. Lifendi, however, had earned his place.
“There are rumors that the Planner has been spotted as well,” he said as Lady Fairgate hissed.
“That damned, meddling AI!” Her fists went purple with pressure.
Lifendi lowered his eyes.
Smart man. She reined in her emotions. “Go to the line. Report anything unusual to me. If they come, you are to return to me. Take only those loyal.”
Lifendi bowed. “My lady.” He turned and left as she turned back to look on the defiled planet below her.
I defeated the Planetary Defense Force, destroyed races, and made planets obey my every command. I will not go silently into the night. Though one always has somewhere to go. It looks like this new slave system will be mine.
Her eyes focused on Worshun.
They thought I was unworthy. Now I rule their entire Union. I will destroy anyone who gets in my way.
Rude Awakening
I awoke on my face, making an impression in the floor. My body followed as I rolled over slowly. The floor was slightly rubberized, but it made little difference as I felt the dull pain of new bruises. Slowly, I tried to push myself up with my right arm. I exhaled through my teeth as I turned my head to see my shoulder, finding four inches of a katana sticking out of it.
Fuck. So that wasn’t a dream. I used my left arm to pick myself up. My hair hung down, covering half of my face. I usually kept it tied back, but it had come free, as usual. I flicked and blew the black mess out of the way and looked at the others in the room who were looking at me—from the one-year-olds and eight-year-olds to the twenty-two-year-olds. I was of average height and a leaner build than the kids who looked to be eighteen, just two years younger than myself. I could see their fear; most of the kids were actually crying and the older ones tried to control their fear. I didn’t know why they were looking at me, but I knew I didn’t want to deal with their fear as well as my own.
One boy, not even ten years old, tugged on my arm. “What do we do?” he asked, clearly confused. His eyes burned into mine.
I looked away after a few moments, the pain and belief that I had the answers making me feel guilty. “How should I know? I’ve never done this before,” I said to the floor.
“You’re Salchar; my daddy says there’s nothing you can’t win!” His lip began to tremble as his eyes dampened.
“I play games, kid. This isn’t a game.”
He burst into tears, causing more of the other kids to do the same.
Had to tell the kid the truth, didn’t you, asshole.
“I waaaant my mmmmmommy!” He hyperventilated as I walked to the nearest wall, making sure to not jar the blade in my shoulder.
I sat down, trying to not focus on the crying kids. Way to go, Salchar. You’ve been here five minutes and you’ve made the kids cry.
I risked another look up; the kids had a
ll grouped in one corner, keeping away from the older-looking teenagers who made smaller groups based on some unspoken similarities. Then there was one girl, quite fit from what I could see, who also sat by herself, studying the room as I was. She turned, as if sensing my gaze, and my blood ran cold as I looked into my old enemy’s eyes.
This day keeps getting better. Why couldn’t I just be playing against her back on Earth instead of being in this damned conscripted army! I growled as I looked away from Yasu Ono, the Blade Mistress and my nemesis.
She looked at me with her flawless skin and model-worthy face and body that had been honed through rigorous training. Her hair was kept in a braid that hung over her shoulder, framing her face and its Japanese features.
I looked to see a tube descending from the ceiling and another person drop out of it with a groan. I felt my blood run cold as the person stood up, looking around the room, her eyes latching onto me.
Why the hell is she here? They do say enemies meet one another frequently.
She was Yasu Ono, my nemesis. Now, when I say nemesis, I don’t mean ha-ha, you’re my nemesis. I mean downright hated my existence; everything I did—she seemed to be disgusted with. I was an orphan in America, gaming from a young age and being picked up later on by the Korean team Mecha Tail. I climbed to the leader boards of a few games. She was the heir to the biggest gaming corporation in the world, and her father had personally designed Mecha Assault One and Two. Mecha Tail became my family as we became the world champions of MAO. When Mecha Assault Two came out, it was a physical response system, meaning someone acted out in the real world and it was translated into the game. Yasu, who had trained to be a fighter her entire life, gathered a group and took over the scene as Mecha Tail trained.
She was asked in an interview what she thought of MT and myself; she had said how talking about a group as dishonorable as mine would only sully her reputation.
MT was made up of Joon Ho (using the gamer tag Monk or Mad Monk), Kim In Sook (using the gamer tag Psycho Cheerleader), Mi Young Hoo (using the gamer tag Iron Bok Soo), and me, James Cook (although my team called me Choi Joo Mi) using the gamer tag Salchar. We were closer than blood relatives and we came back with a storm, much to the apparent disgust of Yasu and her team Samurai’s Revenge, with Stone Warrior, the Sato sisters, and herself—the Blade Mistress. We were just about to fight for the title of champion when something had happened.
I closed my eyes as I cleared up my still scrambled head.
I was about to play against Yasu Ono’s team, Samurai’s Revenge, in the world Mecha Assault Two championships in Korea. Mecha Tail and I were just taking the stage after Samurai’s Revenge when the monitors throughout the stadium changed to a purple-tinged humanoid. It had webbed hands, gills, and clear eyelids that didn’t move; the words came from an unknown source, due to its lack of a mouth.
“Population two, four-nine-five, you have been called up for service. Recruitment will now begin,” it said.
That was all the alien said, leaving me stunned as the monitors cleared. The roof exploded as boxes rushed down to grab people. People screamed in panic, running whichever way they thought was the safest. A box darted for the stage as I ducked and rolled, a section of the stage behind me splintering.
“Lei!” I yelled. The minor player had a thing for swords and brought his lucky sword with him wherever he went. Without thinking, he turned and, opening his duffel bag, he threw me his sword. We were like family, and ours was in danger. The other members of MT were already rushing forward to protect the others. I cut off the data cables that would translate my movements into in-game data as I turned to Monk, who was ripping them off as quickly as possible.
I saw another box dart forward over Iron Bok Soo, who was having a harder time disconnecting the feeds from his wheelchair. I jumped, the katana connecting with the meter-thick cord.
“Fuckers!” I heard from inside the box.
The cord went taut as I hit it with the katana. Two things happened: the katana broke and the box sailed up into the air.
“Shiiiiit!” I whipped my head to the side, my own momentum carrying me forward as the tip of the katana came back toward my head. Adrenaline pumping, I didn’t know where the blade had gone until I turned to look back at where the box had been, finding it lodged in my shoulder.
“Lucky sword, my ass,” I hissed, throwing the hilt and what remained of the useless sword away. Another two box-like grabbers snagged Cheerleader and Monk as I tried to get to them. The rest of Mecha Tail turned, rushing outside as if to find some other way to get to the boxes.
The entire arena devolved into chaos as boxes darted down, closing around their prey and hauling them up to a ship. I could see tens of them through the holes in the arena. There was no getting away from these bastards.
“Well, come on, you fuckers! Take my family, you better take me,” I ground out. Suddenly I was suspended in the air as a box snapped around me, yanking up and away. I never felt as helpless as I was suspended without the ability to touch the floor or the walls. I felt like a plush toy in an arcade machine as I heard gas from above me. I struggled to move, to get anywhere, as I felt consciousness slipping away.
Well, that explains a few things. I tried to get rid of the fuzzy feeling I had. The majority of the children, and even a few of the adults, were crying. Being an orphan, I was used to being thrown around and having to adapt. Instead of focusing on them and what was going on, I went to what I knew. I looked around the bright-white, featureless room. There were no doors, windows, seats or even an indication of where I’d come from, just plain flat white.
I looked at the katana in my shoulder. Wounded, I mentally added to my situation.
The ceiling opened again, this time a blond man fell to the floor.
“Sounvabitch!” he said, windmilling till he hit the floor. The man grunted as he turned himself over.
“Ow,” he said simply.
“You okay?” I asked the blond man, who looked at the ceiling in annoyance.
“Not my best day.” He picked himself up and saw the fragment of katana in my shoulder. “Looks like it was better than yours though.”
The katana started to hurt like almighty hell. The adrenaline was apparently wearing off.
“Remind me not to buy Japanese,” I growled, my faith in old sword-making techniques sorely lacking. Once you have half of one in your shoulder, they don’t look so hot.
“Yeah,” he said as realization sparked in his eyes. “You’re Salchar!”
“Yes.” My celebrity training took over as I masked my feelings of pain, replacing it with a confident smile, looking over the people in the room again. All of them were stunned and looking for direction. I was already thinking as I realized the man was still talking.
“I watch your games. You’re awesome!” he said.
“Why, thank you,” I said.
“Best to pull the sucker out.” He nodded at my shoulder.
I went pale. It already hurt like hell getting it lodged in my shoulder, pulling it out doesn’t sound much better.
“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea,” I said hesitantly, not sure about the guy who wanted to play doctor on me, who had fallen on his head and I’d met a minute ago.
“Ah, it’ll be fine.” He went to work, examining the blade and the wound. He quickly fished out a small first-aid kit from his pants that seemed to have more pockets than sense.
“I’m Rick, Air Force Reservist,” he said.
“Well, I think you...” I growled as he yanked the katana out. I hadn’t seen his hand snake behind my back as I grunted in pain and he grinned.
“See, easy.” His smile was still there as I could only shake my head at his undeterred playfulness.
He quickly sprayed antiseptic and put a bandage on my shoulder, securing it.
Disinfectant is fricking painful! Smells like Russian vodka.
“Good.” He checked his handiwork before he lay on the floor, facing the ceiling and obv
iously tired from his work. “You’ll live; you need to move it as little as possible and let nature take its course.”
“Goody,” I said sourly. My arm now throbbed in pain.
“Plus, you’ve got a souvenir.” He grinned as he handed me the four-inch piece of the blade.
“Thaanks,” I drawled, grinning at Rick.
“Well, my mom always told me I was the best at getting gifts.”
I chuffed a laugh, realizing that it was becoming harder to breathe. A hum filled the room as the air became thicker and my entire body became heavier.
I started coughing from the air, which made me hyperventilate in an attempt to get more air. I started to panic before I forced those thoughts from my head.
They could’ve killed you on the ground. Now get the fuck up. Time to buck up or shut up. I fought my body, forcing myself to breathe through my teeth as I looked around the room. The others occupying it had similar troubles as myself, most panicking and collapsing into unconsciousness.
My eyes, nose, mouth, and even my skin gained an itchy, burning sensation. I tried to ignore it as best as possible, the wound in my shoulder like the worst mosquito bite I’d ever had. I buried my nails into my hand to resist scratching it.
The ceiling opened as three more people were dumped unceremoniously onto the floor around me.
I heard them almost immediately hyperventilating.
“Control your breathing, short breaths or you’ll pass out,” I said.
They took my advice, getting their bodies under control as I slowly got to my feet, my head thumping from the lack of oxygen.
“Thanks,” one said from the ground as I was rethinking my thought to stand up.
“No problem,” I ground out. Talking and standing made my head swim. I was breathing heavily by the time I was upright.
Every head turned to see a red alien step out of a hatch in the wall, which shut seamlessly behind him. Barely any lines that would’ve showed the outline of the door were visible on the sheet metal-looking wall.
“Get up!” he demanded. His guttural clicks turned into English and other languages. Two other identical aliens moved to the groups, yelling at us to get up and beating those who were too slow about it. I got up slowly as one came near me, hitting me in the stomach without warning. It was like being hit by a train as all my breath left me and I flopped to the ground, trying desperately to regain the air and control over breathing I’d lost.
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