Merkiaari Wars Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  She moved through her area carefully, but her sensors gave her plenty of warning when one of the raiders grew a spine and tried to flank. He was equipped with motion sensors at least. He must be. He was doing a reasonable job of circling around behind her. Of course he didn’t know that she was watching him on her own sensors and walking backwards at the same pace as she had been. When he rounded the last corner expecting to shoot her in the back, he was confronted with her rifle aimed at him. All he did was die.

  She didn’t stop her movement, simply turned and kept walking. No need to check him. He didn’t have a head anymore. She returned her rifle’s power setting to a more reasonable anti-personnel level. She had forgotten to do it after blasting the hole in the wall.

  As she moved through the building her attention began to drift remembering the last few years of her life. The death of her friends in the Marines, meeting Eric, her recruitment testing on Luna. The first day she woke after enhancement flashed before her eyes, and Eric telling her she had nearly died. Roberto shooting her in the tunnels... first deployment on Child of Harmony... battles fought against Merkiaari... Shima going in alone to plant the tracker... the battle of Charlie Epsilon...

  What the hell? She stopped where she was and looked around in bewilderment. She was in a hostile environment and she was playing memory files? How does that even happen? She shook her head at her inattention. A quicker way to get dead she couldn’t imagine.

  Sensors reported...

  ...seeing Cragg almost dead... her fight on the roof... meeting the elders... visiting Shima... the survey mission with Varya... Shima’s vacation... waving goodbye to Shima as she boarded the shuttle with her family and friends... boarding Hobbs for the Kushiel mission... watching Hobbs burn and die... shot in the back...

  Flicker, flicker, flicker, flicker...

  Computer: close all incoming and outgoing ports!

  The flow of memory files stopped, and Gina shook in terror. Someone had hacked her systems. They said that wasn’t possible. They promised her when she asked not even the hated Douglas Walden could do so! They lied... no they wouldn’t. They were vipers too and everyone feared being hacked, feared being a passenger in their own bodies, or simply being switched off. It was every viper’s nightmare. They told her she was safe because they believed it to be true.

  “Well fuck them, they’re wrong,” she gasped.

  >_ Sensors: offline.

  >_ TacNet: offline.

  Warning: Hostile intrusion detected. Countermeasures deployed... failed.

  Computer: Block all incoming transmissions until further notice!

  Acknowledged.

  >_ Communications: offline.

  Intrusion attempt failed. Block successful.

  “Fuck me...” she whispered.

  She was truly blind now. No sensors or TacNet, and no viper comm. They all relied upon her net and no network could operate without open ports for data to use. No way to warn Eric. She didn’t dare switch to helmet comm. She had no idea if she could be hacked that way. She couldn’t see how it would be possible... sonics maybe? She could mute her hearing. She did it in artillery practice, but she was blind enough already. She didn’t want to fight while deaf too.

  How the hell does it happen that simple raiders have the ability to hack a viper when no one is supposed to have it? She didn’t know, but she was in trouble now. There were hostiles all through the building. She had to warn Eric, but she couldn’t leave the enemy at her back. She booted up her helmet systems, thanking God and the General that the regiment had kept them for backup purposes. They were primitive compared with her built in systems, but she had used similar things for longer than she had been a viper and was well practised with their use.

  The helmet’s HUD came online and its sensors showed her... she spun firing on full auto and yelling in surprise. The raiders fired back and she went down. Her legs riddled with pulser burns. She gritted her teeth at the pain but kept firing. Her suit was flame retardant but in no way was it a replacement for good armour. Her burned legs made her want to scream, but she made the enemy scream instead. All three of the raiders fell still shooting at her, but most missed her. Most. A single shot hit her helmet snapping her head hard back. Its nanocoat reacted instantly flashing mirror bright, trying to reflect the beam, and that saved her from a nasty burn and possibly death. Vipers were tough, but they weren’t immortal.

  She rolled out of the plasma, but it was instinct and not really necessary. The raider was dead and his finger finally relaxed on the trigger. The weapon fell silent. Her HUD was flickering, damage to the helmet and partially burned visor accounted for that. It was still working though, and the raider’s red icons faded as she watched. Her sector was clear according to sensors. These three had been the last. Eric’s icon was coming her way at a run it looked like. He must think her badly damaged and was coming to her rescue again! With her out of all contact, it was all he could think... oh crap, no it wasn’t. When she ordered her processor to block all transmissions, she had inadvertently blocked her viper IFF too. Eric would have seen her icon fade from his sensors just as she had done after killing the raiders. He thought she was dead. Worse probably. A viper’s beacon was designed to keep going even after death to aid recovery of bodies. He must think her utterly destroyed. She would never live it down. Twice in one mission? No way would this stay just between them. It was too good a story. She wondered what she could bribe him with.

  >_ Diagnostics: Legs 90%. Environmental health warning. Atmosphere toxic. Lung capacity degraded. Lung capacity 93%. Unit fit for duty.

  >_ IMS: Repairs in progress.

  She struggled to her feet to meet Eric. He ran around the corner and stopped as she marched up to him. She raised her burnt visor. Her suit integrity was already compromised so it hardly mattered. Eric opened his visor as well and coughed as he breathed the junk this planet laughingly called an atmosphere. He looked stunned to find her alive.

  “I was hacked!” she yelled at him, her stress and fear coming out as anger. “What the fuck, Eric! You promised that can’t happen!”

  He blinked in surprise. “I promised? I don’t remember that. Doesn’t matter. We can’t be hacked.”

  “We bloody can, I was! I asked Doctor Patel when they switched everything on. He said no one can hack us. Not even Douglas Walden!”

  “Calm down, we can’t be hacked.”

  “Goddamnit will you listen to me! I. Was. Hacked!”

  Eric just stared silently at her. He was doing that thing of his again, the going away thing. Something else was watching her out of his eyes now and she didn’t like it. She jabbed him hard in the chest with her fist and he came back blinking in surprise. His eyes widened.

  “You too?”

  Eric nodded.

  “Close all ports and block incoming transmissions!”

  “Doing it now. Done. I saw my family and... never mind. You’re right. We can be hacked.”

  Gina nodded. “Yeah. How does a scraggly arsed bunch of raiders learn how to do that?”

  “It wasn’t them. This is someone else.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I finished mine before coming here, and I’m guessing yours are all dead too.”

  She glanced at the bodies beyond him. Eric and she were the only living people in the building. She turned in a circle and something caught her eye high up on the ceiling. A glass dome with a red activity light blinking slowly. She slapped a hand against Eric’s chest and directed him to look up.

  “Not someone, Eric, some thing. I think we’ve found Sebastian.”

  “We need to collect Liz and her people. She’ll want to meet him.”

  Gina nodded. “Yeah, and I want to talk to him when she does. The bastard nearly got me killed.”

  Haverington, Kushiel.

  Leon watched the two suited figures emerge from the treasury building bitterly and knew his one chance was gone. Over. Done. He had lost the last toss of the dice. His ship was the
irs now, his crew dead. The poachers had won, and he had nothing but his life left to him. It was more than Haliwell and the others had, but he didn’t feel grateful.

  He had nearly done it. Nearly dug himself out of the hole he had fallen into. If he hadn’t let Haliwell talk him into busting open the vaults below the treasury they could have been on their way outsystem now with billions in bearer bonds and gilts. They were snugged away in the cargo hold right now! But no, he had let his greed infect him with stupidity. What did a few million credits in gold and platinum wafers mean when he had billions already? Damn him for a fool!

  When the attack came upon them, he had been trying his override codes on the airlock controls. As captain his codes should have opened it, but they hadn’t worked. As the ship owner, he had a master unlock code as well, and would have tried it as a last resort. Applying it was a desperation move because it unlocked the entire ship all at once, including the ship’s computers. With unsecured computers, Haliwell could have jacked the ship right out from under him. He couldn’t risk that, so would have needed to reprogramme every lock and security measure with new codes afterwards. He didn’t get the chance to try it. The grenades slaughtered the crew around him and their attacker charged in and butt-stroked him. When he awoke amidst the corpses the ship had already been lost.

  He watched the poachers approach and wanted to kill them for stealing his ship and one last chance at a life, but he couldn’t fly the ship alone. It wasn’t possible. He needed at least a handful of people to crew the ship in engineering while he conned the helm. There was no way less than five could crew the Gift. He would try to bargain a share of the bonds for his life, but he knew he would get nothing. He would be lucky if they let him live considering their actions to date. They were far better killers than Haliwell had ever been.

  He looked at his pistol and dropped it before stepping into the open with his hands up, but he didn’t get the chance to bargain for passage to the nearest port. The pulser blast took him in the chest, and he died staring wide-eyed at a beautiful clear blue sky.

  The figure wearing the damaged suit and burned helmet holstered the pistol stepping over the corpse, and continued toward the ship without looking back.

  * * *

  22 ~ Hegemon

  Aboard Blood Drinker, Kiar System

  Beep!

  Valjoth gnashed his fangs at the interruption. Usk was at the hatch. “I’ll rip him apart,” he panted.

  Beep!

  “Stay,” Zeng Kylar said pulling him down and holding him there with ease. She was a formidably sized female and very strong. Most were, but she took it to extremes. She was a head taller than the others, and that made her bigger than any male in the host including him. “Grrrrr,” she growled and pinned him down.

  Valjoth grunted as her full weight descended upon him. He bit her shoulder. “By the blood,” he groaned in pleasure. “You had better get off me.”

  “Or what?” she growled grinding herself against him.

  He lapped the blood flowing from his bite. “Or... never mind,” he said and heaved with all his might. Kylar toppled with a crash and Valjoth pounced on top. “Ha!”

  “Ha yourself, my lord,” Kylar said and clutched him tightly with her legs. “Now what First Claw of the Host?”

  “Err...” Valjoth said uncertainly as he tested his strength against hers. Force—no matter what tradition dictated—was not the only way to victory. Cunning had its place. “How about this?” He thrust himself hard inside her.

  “Ah!” she groaned as he pounded into her. “A most unusual tactic my lord... but I fail to see... Ah!” she gasped as her pleasure reached its height.

  Valjoth roared at his release, but he didn’t allow the sensation to distract him from his goal. Kylar was in the throes of passion still and he took full advantage. He threw his weight to one side and rolled out of her weakened grasp. They lay panting side by side.

  “You really are different,” Kylar gasped.

  Valjoth gnashed his fangs in laughter. “Everyone says that.” They did, but they didn’t mean it as a compliment.

  He wasn’t well thought of in some circles because he was descended from batches that had been, some said, foolishly and hastily created in the aftermath of the failed Human cleansing. The panic back then had led to corner cutting. Batches were quickened with poorly tested and thought out changes because the warlord of the day had feared the Humans were coming to cleanse the Merkiaari from the galaxy, and to be fair everyone thought the same way. It made perfect sense. Had the situation been reversed, Valjoth knew his people would have done exactly that to the Humans. It was what they had been trying to do after all. No one expected Humans to show such weakness when they were in the ascendant, but it had happened and they did not come. It took decades for his people to finally believe what had happened, and that Humans had not come because they couldn’t or more baffling still, didn’t want to. By that time many batches had been quickened and the changes were well and truly in the Merkiaari gene pool. Those changes based upon fear of Humans and the need to match them, had led to Valjoth’s own... ah, strangeness? Uniqueness. He preferred uniqueness to other less complimentary things said of him. Certainly more pleasant than ‘that over educated runt’ a little harsh, he wasn’t physically smaller or weaker than the average male. Another thing often said was ‘that slurry from the bottom of the vat’ and that was just plain mean. He had challenged and killed the male who said that within his hearing, he had to or be thought weak, but he knew others said it. He was careful never to officially hear it, or he would be fighting challenges every other day.

  Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

  The hatch alarm sounded again, this time more insistently. Usk must be leaning on the vermin spawned thing. Valjoth climbed to his feet not bothering to dress and fisted the hatch release.

  “WHAT?!” he roared at the top of his lungs.

  Usk stood in the gale of Valjoth’s roar and did not flinch. “Sorry for the intrusion lord, but there was a priority message with orders for you.”

  “What orders?” Valjoth said snatching the tablet from Usk’s grasp in irritation. The moment he read who the communication was from, he calmed down. “In!” he commanded and sealed the hatch behind the shield bearer. “You know Zeng Kylar do you not?” he said distractedly as he read.

  Usk stared at the exhausted female where she lay upon the deck. “We’ve met a time or two.”

  Kylar gnashed her teeth in laughter. “I remember that. I’d just finished with the vermin... what were they called again?”

  “Parcae,” Valjoth said absently still reading.

  “That was it,” Kylar agreed. “They made me very excited I seem to recall.”

  Usk nodded eagerly.

  Valjoth scowled. “I should have known that he would fail the test.”

  “Who?” Kylar asked, finally recovering enough to rise.

  Usk watched in fascination as she stretched and shook her fur into order.

  “Karnak. He allowed the vermin to best him both in space and upon the ground. I should have sent—” he broke off as he read further. “So, the Humans intervened in his cleansing. Things become clearer.”

  Usk pulled his attention away from Kylar and her grooming. “Ruark was with him.”

  “For all the good it did,” Valjoth said in disgust. “The warlord orders me to attend him at the palace. I think he might be reevaluating our plans for the Human cleansing.”

  “The poor excuses for puling females he surrounds himself with wouldn’t let him,” Usk turned to the enormous Kylar where she towered over him. “No offence meant.”

  Kylar laughed. “None taken.”

  Valjoth nodded. “I think you might be wrong this time. The warlord is old. He remembers the chaos years. Fear of the Humans is a personal thing for him, not something read about in a history text.”

  Usk remained uncomfortably silent. Valjoth looked up from the tablet. “Oh don’t worry about her, Usk. She knows m
y thoughts as well as you do, and I swept this cabin just a short while ago.”

  Usk sighed in relief. It was his job to sweep for listening devices, but Valjoth hadn’t allowed it before Kylar arrived. Too eager was another failing he was sometimes labelled with, though strangely the females didn’t seem to mind.

  “Why do you think he’ll listen when he didn’t before?”

  “Because of this,” Valjoth waved the tablet. “He hasn’t ordered me to send ships to rescue Karnak. I think he’s written the Shan vermin and the entire cleansing force off.”

  “That’s a lot to read into a summons to the palace, my lord.”

  Valjoth shrugged. He supposed it was, but he had a feeling he was right. It had been more than a year ago when he was last at the palace, and he had to admit that was his fault. He had been a little forceful with his opinions last time he was there. The warlord had actually activated the shield on his throne against him, fearing attack. He would never be foolish enough to attack the warlord. Well, not with witnesses present at any rate. He was old and long past his prime, but he hadn’t been a bad ruler.

  The Hegemony was stable and strong, and the last rebellion had been dealt with swiftly and efficiently. It was just that he failed to expand their dominion toward Human controlled space, or anywhere but in the opposite direction! He feared the Humans. Even that was understandable to a degree—they were a powerful foe, and a fitting challenge. No, it was that he was so obvious about it!