Tides of War (Rebellion Book 3)

by M. R. Forbes

  Published by Quirky Algorithms

  Seattle, Washington

  This novel is a work of fiction and a product of the author's imagination.

  Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by M.R. Forbes

  All rights reserved.

  Cover illustration by Tom Edwards

  tomedwardsdesign.com

  About Tides of War

  After being saved from annihilation by the Old Gator's daring plan, Gabriel and the crew of the Magellan find themselves in the most unlikely of places: a captured enemy starship. While learning to control the alien vessel introduces a new set of challenges, the secrets they discover within may prove to be the edge they so desperately need.

  With the rebellion on Earth rushing headlong toward a final, last-ditch battle and the remainder of the alien armada standing between them and home, it will take all of their strength, courage, and ingenuity to destroy the enemy once and for all.

  Before the enemy destroys them.

  Contents

  • Copyright • About Tides of War

  • 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • 29 • 30 • 31 • 32 • 33 • 34 • 35 • 36 • 37 • 38 • 39 • 40 • 41 • 42 • 43 • 44 • 45 • 46 • 47 • 48 • 49 • 50 • 51 • 52 • 53 • 54 • 55 • 56 • 57 • 58 • 59 • 60 • 61

  Other Books • Join the Mailing List • Thank You • About the Author

  ONE

  LEX'EL DUR RORN'EL CROUCHED behind an outcropping of broken masonry. He lifted his arm, checking the levels in his oxygen tanks, and then turned his attention to his quarry.

  The humans and the un'hai had found a hiding place beneath the twisted metal of one of their simplistic structures, a place marked by a pair of overlapping, symmetrical red lines. It had been destroyed by one of the gur'shah at least a dozen years ago, probably more, the floors collapsed, leaving a small area where the same gur'shah could now remain out of view of the sky.

  The hunter had seen the battle that had won the mechs for the humans. He respected them for their victory, at the same time he despised them for his kind's defeat. It was all well. They would be removed from their so-called rebellion soon.

  Today.

  Nine days had passed since he had set out to track them. Nine days since he had access to more than a taste of fresh oxygen, as he sought to stretch himself to the limits of his genetic capabilities. Their speed had made following difficult, but their need to hide from passing gi'shah had given him the time he needed to catch up.

  And he had caught up. Every daybreak for the last six days. It had meant moving at full speed and barely pausing to rest, but that was the investment required of a hunter if it wished to catch its prey. It was an investment too few of his pur'dahm brothers were willing to make, choosing the easy kill instead of the true challenge.

  It was the reason he was the best of them.

  It was the reason he had lived when the others had not.

  He moved slowly, methodically, shifting from one position behind the wall to another beside it, peering out at the makeshift camp. Every day had been the same for the humans. They would set up their camp at dawn, finding a place to hide in the ruins of their former civilization. Then they would vanish into the ped'ek, all except a guard, to eat and to sleep. Occasionally, one of them would evacuate the transport to void somewhere nearby, usually before they assumed the guard's duty.

  He had never considered attacking them while they did. Perhaps other hunters might have, but he believed it to be dishonorable. A disgrace. No. He wanted the advantage, as any good hunter would. But he also needed the humans to have a chance to fight back. There was no glory in killing something that had no means to defend itself.

  That was why he had waited so long, watching from a distance for hours as the humans made their camp. He had tracked them hundreds of kilometers as they traveled north. He wasn't completely sure where they were headed, but he had an idea. While the Domo'dahm had been shattering bands of resistance in the north for weeks, there were still reports that a few of the larger groups had managed to evade them, hiding below the ground like druk'kek.

  He believed their intent was to rendezvous with these forces, to lend the strength of the bek'hai weaponry to their cause. If the humans were half as intelligent as he was, they would begin attacking other smaller bek'hai outposts from there and work to capture more and more of their technology to use against them.

  It was a plan he was going to enjoy ruining. Considering it now, he couldn't help but smile. That was the glory of the hunter. His glory. The Domo'dahm would surely move him near the front of the cell for singlehandedly ending the largest threat the humans had ever mounted.

  His father was certain to be doubly pleased with the death of Ehri dur Tuhrik. The un'hai had always been more willful than the other lor'hai, but her actions were beyond willfulness. It was treachery and disloyalty, with no room for argument. She had betrayed her people, and she was directly responsible for the deaths of his fellow hunters.

  He would be sure to kill her last.

  He scanned the camp one last time. The guard posted outside was an older male. Lex'el had seen him during the battle. He had led the charge into the compound, and if his fellow hunter's deaths were any indication, he had comported himself well. His courage was respectable. Yes. He would be a good one to begin with.

  He ducked back behind the wall, reaching down and sliding his lek'sai from his back. He eyed the blades thoughtfully for a moment, before looking out from behind the wall once more. The man was looking away from him, toward another line of destruction, apparently intrigued by something he saw there.

  He looked in that direction as well, curious to know what it was.

  Then he began running back to the ped'ek, opening the hatch and vanishing inside. Lex'el raised his arm and checked his sensors, hissing as he recognized pur'dahm Fior'el's sigil.

  Nine days. That druk'shur had nine days to find the humans and make his attack. He was certain Fior'el's resources must have happened on their position by accident. He had watched how the humans hid from the sorties. It was simple and effective, and no doubt guided by Ehri.

  Unless...

  He put his other hand on the display, moving his fingers to change the screens, cursing at himself for his stupidity. He tapped the screen violently, shutting down his own transponder.

  He hadn't expected any of the pur'dahm would be capable enough to think to track his movements instead of the enemy's.

  He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. There was nothing for him to do now but wait. He opened a valve on his tank, taking a long breath of pure oxygen, feeling the tingle as it moved through his system. He could only afford to give himself one.

  "Do not disappoint me, Ehri dur Tuhrik," he said as he listened for the attack to begin.

  It was his glory on the line.

  TWO

  "GET YOUR LAZY ASSES up and moving, people," Kroeger shouted as he entered the confines of the transport. "We've got not-very-friendlies incoming, and I don't really feel much like dying today."

  Major Donovan Peters' eyes snapped open, and he turned his head to where the older man was standing, his neck muscles taught as he released a spew of curses while reaching for one of the bek'hai rifles.

  "Don't just lay there like a sack of shit, Major," Kroeger said, noticing him. "Get your tail over to that ugly ass hunk of steel and go kick some tail."

  Donovan pushed himself up, shaking the sleep away. He couldn't have been out for more than a few mi
nutes. Had the Dread been following them and waiting for them to settle down for the day?

  "Kroeger, take Thompson and Mendez and find some high ground," he said as the rest of his team came alert. Ehri, Soon, you're with me."

  "Yes, sir," they all said, gathering themselves.

  Kroeger tossed a rifle to both Thompson and Mendez. "Let's go, ladies and gents. We aren't getting paid for this, which means it's our asses on the line."

  Then Kroeger was out the door, with the others right behind him.

  "They were following us?" Donovan asked as Ehri moved beside him.

  "It seems that way," she replied, though something in her expression gave him the feeling she wasn't convinced. "It can't be a large force, or we would have noticed."

  "If they call in air support, we're going to be in trouble in a hurry."

  "They won't."

  Donovan nodded. He had learned a lot about how the bek'hai waged war over the last couple of weeks. Their system was an odd mix of both caste and meritocracy, where the elite caste, the pur'dahm, fought one another for positioning and power while at the same time seeking to fulfill the Domo'dahm's directives. What that meant for them was that any attacks against them would come from a single pur'dahm looking to gain rank and glory within that system. While the bek'hai elite would use whatever resources he had to achieve the objective, the last thing he would do would be to ask another for assistance. It was a major weakness on the part of the Dread.

  A weakness they had exploited during their raid on the smaller bek'hai compound.

  A weakness he hoped they could exploit again now.

  They spilled out of the transport with Donovan in the lead. A plasma bolt struck the side of the ped'ek a meter from his head when he did, and he turned to see a return bolt vanish into the line of distant rubble as one of their infantry fired back.

  "Move faster, Major," Kroeger shouted from somewhere out of sight.

  Donovan pushed himself harder, breaking around the back of the transport, using it as cover as he reached the stolen enemy mech. He scaled the side of it, making it to the chest and putting his hand on a small, hidden control there. The cockpit swung open, and he pulled himself inside.

  He leaned back, quickly activating the toggles that would start the vehicle's power supply and get it moving. In front of him, alien text surrounded a view of the world outside. He didn't know what most of it meant, and he didn't need to. The important part was universal - a blue reticle in the center of the HUD that showed him where his weapons were going to hit.

  He flipped another switch, and a brace dropped over him, securing him to the rear of the cockpit and lowering a pair of joysticks. Each one was attached to rotating joints that mimicked the arms of the mech and provided all the controls for both upper body rotation and offense. His legs were kept free, tracked by sensors that would translate their movement into the bipedal motion of the mechanized armor.

  It was all fairly rudimentary; primitive compared to other bek'hai technology. The Dread evolution had forced them to abandon the original control system that utilized a gel-filled capsule and a symbiotic neural network to transfer commands. They had replaced it with manual controls that could be used by the more human drumhr, who had lost the ability to communicate with the symbiotes.

  It was nowhere near as efficient, but combined with invincible shields, it was just as effective.

  "Rebel One, online," he said, activating the mech's comm system.

  He continued to be grateful that the three mechs they had taken from the Dread compound had all been linked together, giving them the ability to coordinate their defense.

  "Rebel Two, online," Ehri said a moment later.

  "Rebel Three, online," Soon said.

  "Let's keep an eye out for targets and stay cautious," Donovan said. "We need to know what we're up against before we do anything stupid."

  "Yes, sir," Soon said.

  The plasma bolts continued raining in, slipping harmlessly past the mech's shields and burning away at the armor below. Each of the mechs was already pockmarked from what amounted to small arms fire and would be able to take a lot more damage before it succumbed to limited attacks. Donovan knew instinctively that the trailing edge of the offensive would be clone soldiers, heavy in numbers and highly expendable. If the Dread in charge of the attack had any intelligence at all, he would use them as a diversion while he tried to flank their position with his armors.

  "Okay, Rebels. We're heading north together. We don't want to get caught in a crossfire."

  "Roger," Soon and Ehri replied.

  Donovan started moving, walking as though he were standing outside on the ground. The mech began to move the same way, its lefts shifting and coming down, pressing him forward into an even gait as he moved the machine out from cover and around the hospital, with Ehri and Soon right behind him.

  "Rebel Three, rotate right, lay some cover fire for the infantry," he said.

  "Roger," Soon replied, turning the top half of his mech and firing a pair of thick plasma bolts into the field. They slammed into the side of a crumbling wall, quieting the smaller attacks.

  Donovan looked ahead of them. They were moving deeper into the small town, where more destroyed buildings were waiting. They had chosen the hospital because it was the best cover to be found, and none of the other ruined structures came up higher than the mechs' knees.

  It left him uncomfortable as they cleared the safety of the larger building. He didn't see any opposition ahead of them, but he didn't expect that to last.

  It didn't.

  The enemy forces moved out from behind the more distant buildings, in smaller vehicles Donovan hadn't seen before. They had a loose resemblance to tanks, with angled carapaces and a larger barrel that emerged from it, surrounded by four smaller ones. There were at least a dozen in all, floating slightly above the ground and nearly silent.

  "Gel'shah," Ehri said. "The plasma cannon is the most powerful the bek'hai carry on the ground. Do not let it hit you."

  No sooner had she spoken than a stream of plasma bolts launched from the tanks, coming toward them in a deadly line.

  Donovan watched the trajectory, getting his legs going and moving the mech forward as quickly as he could. He ducked as the screen brightened from the combined firepower, cringing slightly as the blue pulses passed over his head. He hoped Ehri and Soon had managed to evade the assault as well.

  The plasma slammed into the hospital behind them a moment later with a burning hiss followed by the crashing of the already damaged floors as they finished giving way.

  "I hope Kroeger wasn't in there," Soon said, witnessing the result of the assault.

  "It looks like the transport is buried," Ehri replied.

  "Damn," Donovan said. "Let's spread out a bit and make it harder for them to concentrate their fire."

  "Yes, sir," Soon replied, his mech sidestepping away.

  The Dread tanks released a second volley. Again, the mechs ducked beneath it, letting the rounds hit whatever debris was beyond them. It was easier to move aside right now. It wouldn't be once they got closer.

  "Rebel Two, Can we take them out from here?" Donovan asked.

  "No, Major," Ehri replied. "The armor is too thick. We need to get closer."

  "How do you usually take these things on?"

  "Gori'shah. Starfighters."

  "I knew you were going to say that."

  Donovan ducked under the third volley. There was a fifteen-second delay between attacks, presumably while the plasma cannon recharged. The closer they came to the tanks, the better their timing would need to be.

  "Keep the rhythm. They need fifteen seconds to recharge. Try to burst forward while they do."

  He followed his own advice, sending the mech dashing forward, crashing through damaged mortar and stone before slowing and dropping the mech into a crouch. Ehri and Soon did the same, and the fourth volley passed less than a meter beyond their heads.

  "I felt that one," Soon said.


  "Rebel Two, are we in range?" Donovan asked.

  "Almost, Major," Ehri replied.

  He could see the tanks more clearly now. They were backing up and spreading apart, clearly understanding their limitations.

  One of the symbols on Donovan's HUD turned red as something hit him from the rear, burning into the mech's armor but not piercing it.

  "Gur'shah," Ehri said. "Three of them."

  The other side of the pincer. Donovan had been hoping to stay ahead of it, but it wasn't meant to be. "How the hell did they find us?" he hissed. "We managed to avoid them for days." He paused to regain his composure and think. "Rebel Two, can you deal with the rear?"

  "I will do my best, Major."

  "Rebel Three, break left. I'll go right. Let's see if we can give as good as we're getting."

  "Yes, sir," Soon replied.

  Donovan steered his mech away from the tanks, using the debris as cover while he tried to flank them and at the same time offering a smaller profile for their plasma bolts to strike. He continued to time the attacks, counting after each blast, using the time as best he could.

  He glanced to the corner of his HUD. He knew the larger battle was displayed there, and Ehri's mech was a green shape moving ahead of the three red ones. Smaller dots lined the area to his rear, in the form of the Dread foot soldiers. It took him a few seconds to find Kroeger in the midst of the chaos, three small black dots clustered near the middle of the action. They weren't in a good position, having gotten pinned down there.

  "Rebel One, I'm in position," Soon said a moment later, surprising Donovan.

  Had he made it around already?

  "Prepare to engage," Donovan said.

  "Yes, sir."

  Donovan ducked the mech behind some rubble, and then rose and faced the tanks.

  "Engage," he said, tapping the triggers on the twin joysticks.

  Plasma bolts launched from the mech, slamming hard into one of the tanks. The armored side melted, but the armor continued to move, trying to get him in front of its cannon.