Enemies on All Sides (Maraukian War Book 4)

by Michael Chatfield

Vayle stayed still for a moment, contemplating what he was going to have to now tell his crew. They’d spent months waiting to get to Sacremon. There was not only a good payout on getting their cargo there, but some had family on the planet. It wasn’t going to go down well.

  He exited his room, and sat back down in his chair on the bridge. “Adams, ship-wide comms please.”

  Adams and all his bridge crew watched him with wide, expectant eyes.

  “Attention please, this is your captain speaking. On discovering that alongside our landing on Sacremon, a Maraukian incursion will also be hitting the planet, it is with my deepest regret that I must make the decision for us to alter our course. This is not a decision I’ve come to lightly. We need to go about our job. Check in with all the resources. That’s all departments—full stock checks and equipment checks. I’ll keep you informed. Captain out.”

  Adams and the others still watched him.

  “Adams,” he said. “Get me comms links with anyone you can. We need to help them get reinforcements if possible, and if we can, just pass the word about. If Sacremon and its growing stations...”

  He didn’t need to say anything else. His helmswoman let out a wail and all around the ship he knew this devastating news rocked them. For a moment, he had nothing to say; he let them grieve. Then he stood. “We’re not letting them down in turning away—we’re making sure that this story gets out. Now, let’s continue with our jobs. The people on board this ship depend on us.”

  And with that, they went back to their jobs, focused, determined to survive while Sacremon would eventually fall.

  ***

  The training sessions had ended early, and Ava made her way through the ship, not really looking for Mark, because he wasn’t hard to find with their connection. But she wanted to get herself together before she went to get something to eat. Hunger had been plaguing her for a few days, but she’d ignored it, not wanting the company of the other mergers; even the new ones inside the net sometimes bugged her. She needed space.

  That was when she felt his rage. It had been something else to get closer to the man she’d fallen in love with but these crossings of emotions she found a little more than disturbing. Like the day she’d found out her mother had twins. There were so many ways that she tried to stop it, but it was too late. The bleed-through rate between them was almost a hundred percent, at least for her.

  However, she’d never felt this before. This anger, and pain. Instantly she tracked his location and then she was running. Feet pounded the deck till she was outside where he was. She threw back the door and went in to see him; he turned to her, face red with anger and his fists so tight. Ava didn’t hesitate in moving to his side. She reached out to touch his face but he pulled back.

  “What is it?” With sadness, she opened up their side of the net, making sure he could feel the love she had for him. But it wasn’t enough; he stayed closed off. “Tell me,” she said. “You can tell me anything.”

  Mark looked away. “The Maraukians are going to hit Sacremon.”

  The shock hit her like it would have with any news like that. “They’re still attacking Ramesh, aren’t they?”

  “As far as I know, yes. We’ve been struggling to get information, even with Moretti on the inside.” When he finally looked to her, his eyes were filled not only with anger, but pure remorse, pain so deep. “If they hit Sacremon—with no backup, they’re gone. That’s it—wiped out. They may put up a small fight, but they’re growing planets. They provide most of that part of space with goods.”

  “How much do they supply?”

  Mark lowered his head. “With things the way they are, the surrounding systems—if they can’t start up their own gardens, they’ll have no food within six months.”

  “We’re too far out?” Now she understood. She reached out, tried to pull him to her, but it wasn’t working. Mark’s fists gripped even tighter and she watched as blood dripped to the floor. Not quite the kind of blood most people had, but the kind only they could shed. That which was part of everything they were: nanites and fluid.

  He turned from her and pounded the wall, breaking through it as his anger manifested in something that was worse than anything.

  “Mark.” Then she started to shout as his fists flew. There was so much rage inside this man that she had no idea how she could stop him.

  Almost screaming at him, she finally reached out and grabbed hold of his arm. He swung around too fast and his fist stopped less than a centimeter from her face.

  Mark paled, but Ava wouldn’t let him go, even as he tried to pull back to get away from her. “No, no you don’t!” she said. “Let me in. Let me deal with this, with you, together.”

  Grappling with him so that she could wrap her arms around him, she remembered that day in training where he’d lost it once before, where Sarah had told her there were things only he could speak of.

  “Mark,” she said. “Talk to me.”

  “It’s like all that pain again. I can’t do this. I can’t cope with it anymore. The more we train, the more we fight them, the more we lose.” When his eyes locked with hers, the tears spilled over. “I can’t lose you like I lost her.”

  The words stung. Of course she’d known he would have had other relationships, she wasn’t stupid, but the fact was he’d lost someone. In his mind, that meant he couldn’t love anymore. And he was worth that love; he was worth everything she could ever give him. Including her life.

  “Mark.” She moved with him, letting that sting dissipate before he felt that through her emotions. “You’re not going to lose me, and we are fighting for all the right reasons. We can’t go through life without loving, without hurting. That’s what makes us unique. That’s what makes us human.”

  “But we’re not!” He held up his hands to let her see the marks where his blood flowed from, the silver liquid as distinctly not human as it could be.

  Ava reached up and tapped the side of his face. “Yes, we are. We’re human where it matters. Don’t forget that.”

  But she could see this struggle was tougher than words. For the first time, she felt like she didn’t know him. “I’m not giving up on us, and I’m not giving up on any of our species. Come, let’s call an emergency meeting. We might not be able to do anything much for Sacremon, but we can help those around her.”

  He seemed to teeter a moment. Then he moved with her, and that was all she needed.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Westerly Three Complex Crew Headquarters

  Earth, Sol System

  10/3556

  Dominguez was looking over the different feeds. The command center was still filled with people but beyond the armored glass windows, the base was looking more and more deserted. The ships had been in orbit for twelve hours now; fighting stopped some six hours ago on the ground.

  There were roving patrols of drop-ships and ground forces wearing Defender Armor.

  The gangs seemed to have learned their lesson and they were standing back.

  After all, it looked as though the Westerly Three Complex Crew was leaving Earth.

  The smart ones were instead starting to fight those nearby to expand their territories, finishing off what the Westerly Three Complex Crew had started.

  The corporations didn’t do anything in space anymore. They didn’t have anything to attack the ships up there with, unless they wanted to use the weapons on their buildings. Then, if the freighters fired back, it would be them personally under attack.

  A number of the higher-ups had already fled Earth just in case anything did happen.

  Forces were massing on Mars and the moon but they didn’t do anything. They hadn’t known about the two hidden freighters that were protecting the mega freighters. It had come to a sort of stand-still now.

  Dominguez wasn’t at ease with it all. She could feel that there was something going on. She knew that the forces that surrounded them were thinking of something.

  All of the Westerly Three Complex Crew’s fa
milies, the people from the greenhouses, and those specially recruited had been towed back up to the freighter.

  Two-thirds of the fighting force that made up the Westerly Three Crew were up on the carriers as well.

  Now they were hauling freighters filled with much-needed resources and technology, as well as Defender Armor-wearing troopers.

  There was just a few thousand people remaining. Even the artillery parks were readying themselves to be packed up.

  “Moretti is trying to open a channel to you,” her NIAI informed her.

  “Let him through,” Dominguez said.

  “Looks like Rimateus is flexing his might again. He got the corporations to react. They’re going to be pushing toward you soon. Looking at a force of a hundred and fifty thousand security guards, mercenaries, and various gangs coming down on the different Westerly Three Complex bases. They’ve got fast movers to bring them in close, from air to the ground. It looks like their last play. They’re getting ready now. You’ve got twenty minutes before the lead elements reach you,” Moretti warned as he passed her an information file.

  His help was invaluable in knowing just what the other side was thinking. It allowed them to get a lead on enemy advancements, and, in many cases, when the enemy was going to try to charge down their necks.

  Dominguez looked to the reports on the different forward-operating bases.

  “Concentrate on pulling out our forces from the FOBs. I want half of their forces moved back to the main base. I want that artillery ready to pound the ever-living shit out of anything that comes into our AO,” Dominguez yelled.

  The people in the command center who were tired from being on their feet for the better part of the day turned back on as they started passing out orders.

  “Expect enemy forces coming in in ten minutes. I want drop-ship aerial coverage!” Dominguez yelled. “I want departing drop-ships loaded with containers and people as they’re leaving.”

  It would take more time to get the people cross-loaded over to the freighter but it would increase how many they could take by nearly half.

  Now they had the unloaded drop-ships, they could stuff them to the gills and pull everyone out and worry about the cross-loading later, as long as they were out of the battlefield.

  The Westerly Three Complex Crew kept on shooting drop-ships into the heavens while Defender Armor-wearing troopers grabbed what rides they had and beelined it toward the main base. Behind them, the roads and the bridges that they used were destroyed so that the enemy would need to find another way.

  Dominguez knew that there were still ways in by land, but her biggest threat was going to be people coming in through the air as they could come down anywhere and hit her.

  She started to see the information coming in. Armored convoys and aerial ships came in at her from every direction, it seemed.

  The corporations had really been stirred up by Rimateus.

  Dominguez waved her hand as the holographically displayed command center disappeared. She moved to a door and opened it to reveal the darkness beyond. Her NIAI and Defender Armor made the night seem as if it were day as over the slums, she could see the ramshackle group of ships that were coming in low and fast so it was harder to see and pick them up on radar.

  They were nothing but dots on the horizon, but she knew they’d get larger soon enough.

  “Time to earn your pay, troopers!” Dominguez yelled. She turned to see the different weapon systems coming online, as well as the troopers manning them.

  Explosions rocked the city as different charges were set off. The troopers consolidated on the main base. The first trucks started coming in just a few minutes later, weaving through the tight turns into the parking area.

  Drop-ships were still landing, having a container clamped to them as they were refueled and taken into the underground base. Troopers loaded up into them before they were launched upward.

  Dominguez grabbed onto the handholds into a gimbal-mounted anti-air system. She grabbed the twin controllers on either armrest and punched the power button on. Rounds were fed into the three guns as she rotated onto target.

  The ships were still far out and coming in from every direction. There were wasps, combat shuttles, some armored variants bought out of a stylist’s catalogue, and others that had been cobbled together by the gangs.

  The quiet artillery started to pick up, sending out sensor shells and painting targets.

  “Pull back the scouts,” Dominguez said. The number of people continued to go down as they boarded containers or the drop-ships.

  “Yes, General.” Trina sent out the orders, pulling the last remaining elements from the city.

  If they had their full strength, they would be able to deal with this threat or at least be able to withdraw some of their forces. With their current numbers, it wasn’t possible anymore; their only choice was to get the hell out under fire, or not at all.

  Drop-ships continued to fire out from the FOBs as quick as possible.

  Dominguez looked to the streets where gangs and corporation types with all kinds of weapons, vehicles, and armor were pushing forward. These were all the forces under the control of the corporations that they’d been able to drum up.

  Looks like they’re pissed that we’re flipping them the bird right on their doorstep.

  “FOBs are cleared,” Trina said. It was fifteen minutes after they sent the warning out.

  The FOBs in the distance started opening up with their automated weapons turrets. Surface-to-air missiles lit off, as well as machine guns. Drop-ships that had been in a holding pattern came in, raking the lead corporation elements.

  “Artillery is cleared hot on any targets of opportunity. Same for drop-ship elements in holding pattern.” Dominguez continued to track the nearest targets that were closing in. They were still minutes away from engagement range, but they weren’t far enough away for the drop-ships and artillery.

  The drop-ships picked out smaller groupings of ships. Diving from high altitude, they unloaded their missile racks, backing away and at speed. They couldn’t take them all on but they ruled the high altitudes.

  Their missiles came in, meeting with defensive fire. But still, a few of them made it through, hitting the ships head on or close by, enough to send them diving into the ground below.

  Artillery started to fall among the forces moving on the ground but it was just stones against a river: they kept on coming.

  The FOBs lit up with weapons fire, the automated systems there lighting up the skies with tracers and missiles’ chem trails.

  Even the defensive systems were still operational, defeating the incoming missiles.

  The FOBs weren’t as effective as if there were humans manning its guns, but they still carved up ships in the skies.

  It wasn’t enough.

  “Here they come,” Dominguez’s NIAI registered as the ships came within range of the main base.

  She lined up a larger shuttle and pulled down on both of her triggers as all four of her cannons fired.

  Others inside the base opened up with their own weapons. Tracers created aiming points as the gunners brought them onto targets.

  The beeping noise of a lock on was followed by the rush of a missile engine firing and a blast of air pushing against those nearby as missile after missile was launched.

  The drop-ships came down from above, splitting well above the base as they raked the craft below with cannons and missiles.

  The corporation ships that could fired back. Their rounds punched into the walls of the base, hitting people here and there as their missiles blew out sections of wall or gun emplacements.

  Dominguez was rocked as cannon rounds stitched the floor below, followed with a set of missile reloads being struck and igniting.

  She tilted her wrist to the side and then back, bringing the ship into focus as tens of rounds shot through the sky in a near solid stream, connecting with the shuttle’s cockpit.

  The shuttle’s engines ramped up as it til
ted upward, swinging into a loop before slamming into the ground in a fiery explosion that leveled nearby buildings.

  Missiles fired beside her as the launcher found new targets. Three more ships went down but the corporation vessels coming in behind were already lowering their altitude, their ramps and doors opening.

  It was one thing to fight the people in the air; if they got caught in ground combat, then people would need to be left behind.

  “Artillery—danger close. I don’t want any of the bastards getting off their shuttles. Drop-ships, watch your angle of approach and departure—don’t want to wing you on your way in or out!” Dominguez yelled. Her gimbal moved, switching from target to target. She didn’t get every ship but she did damage to a lot of them, or put them off the idea of setting down.

  “Drop-ships are on their way.” Archibald’s voice cut through the noise as Dominguez swung the gimbal around, leaving lines of tracers in the sky across the front of the oncoming ships.

  She used one eye to watch her targets, the other watching as the drop-ships that had been covering the freighters turned and started diving for the surface in their wings.

  Two hundred drop-ships, fully armed and ready for a fight. Multiple cracks could be heard as they broke through atmosphere and then the sound barrier as they raced toward the main base.

  Dominguez didn’t let up on her fire. A missile hit the wall near her mount. The explosion ripped a hole in the wall and rocks were thrown everywhere. One unlucky bastard was hit off the roof while Dominguez was hit in the side with debris, hammering her armor and leaving her bruised but nothing worse than that.

  The one who had fallen off the roof was okay, albeit swearing about the problems with gravity these days.

  Dominguez didn’t have time to laugh as she tried to swing onto her next target. But she found her guns were jammed. “Fuck!” She grabbed onto a pull handle and cranked it backward, the actions on the cannon’s cycle as she drove the handle forward again and pulled the trigger.

  “There we go! Fucking jam!” Dominguez berated her weapon system as she continued to fire into the sky.