The Tenth Awakens (Maraukian War Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

  “A life debt is an unbreakable bond. I personally owe a life debt to Ava’s father. It’s called the lifebond by most.”

  “Why do you have a life debt to him and how come you aren’t with him?”

  “A life debt is given when one’s life is saved by a person who had no prior need to do so. A doctor will not get a lifebond from saving a patient, or a bodyguard for protecting their employer. I owe High King Hael Desialias a life debt for saving my life many years ago in a war against the Desoom city-state.” Chyna’s eyes darkened with memories.

  “So she owes me a debt for helping her out?”

  “Yes,” Chyna said.

  Mark looked to Ava.

  “Yeah.” Ava nodded. She didn’t like owing anyone anything.

  “Is there any way to annul it?” Mark asked.

  “No.” Chyna’s face hardened.

  “So you’ll be what, my bodyguard?”

  “You haven’t seen me fight yet,” Ava shot back, getting a glance from Chyna.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Mark said, his hands still moving. “So what I don’t get is if you’re her protector, why aren’t you in the same unit as her?”

  “Well, I’m a protector in as much as I’ll teach her to protect herself. I’m not going to be around always, so I teach her,” Chyna said.

  “I like it. Better than having a mob of bodyguards around and having you defenseless, though there is something to be said about having support.”

  “Well, if she needs it, she needs to learn to make friends who will provide her that support. Again...”

  “You won’t always be around,” Mark finished for him.

  “And it is, in fact, the reason I’m in your simulation as I was told my student was awake again and had rushed off to the simulation bubbles. We normally have our sparring lessons here as to spend less time and go through multiple scenarios.”

  “Sounds like a great idea,” Mark said.

  Ava sensed he liked being alone.

  “It seems that I will be teaching you on your refresher.” Chyna’s tone changed.

  Mark looked at the man. “I know. It seems I have to report to Pullo’s office. Till later.” Mark gave a half nod and disappeared from the simulation.

  “I wonder what he was working on,” Ava said as Chyna studied the air in which Mark had been hovering.

  “I have no idea but it is time for a sparring lesson. You might have picked a better candidate to owe your bond to. He is crass and rude. I am his superior and he has little in the way of respect,” Chyna said.

  “I’ve barely slept. We just pushed the Maraukians off an—”

  Chyna’s sword was out of his sheath and came at her head with blinding speed. She rolled her sword, appearing from where she sheathed it as she parried, turning his blade and coming in on the attack.

  “What. Is. With. People. Inter-upting. Me!” Ava yelled as she advanced her attack. Chyna just barely threw off the attacks as he was driven back.

  ***

  “I was told Legate Pullo wanted to talk with me.”

  Pullo’s protective detail opened the door before he’d stopped talking or walking, admitting him into Pullo’s office filled with fragrant cigar smoke. Pullo and Dodger smoked from their seats, and the newly promoted Centurion Michales looked on in mild disgust at the smoke.

  “Gentlemen.” Mark sat in the middle seat in front of Pullo’s desk extremely slowly; it creaked as it bore his weight, barely holding together.

  “Cigar?”

  “Read my mind.” Mark took one from the offered box. His index finger changed into a mono-blade as he expertly cut the cigar; the finger transformed into a lighter as he took a few good puffs and sat back in his chair.

  The others looked at him in surprise at the ease in which he’d changed his own body.

  “So you can morph your body into items?” Dodger asked first.

  “Yes, certain things. I hope to look into more modifications I can program but so far it’s just a few.”

  “All right, so you say you have a plan?” Pullo inquired.

  “Yes, but the very basics. I still believe I can get something ready in a few weeks of undisturbed time.”

  “Well, for these gentlemen, could you please explain the very basics of what merging capable individuals would be able to do?”

  “They could be an assaulting force against Maraukians instead of Bellona. Though it’s not without costs. Someone who can merge has to have the body modification or they will most likely die from the stress placed upon their bodies. Also, they can’t go back to being human—have the same body as before—once they complete the body modifications. They’ll become a vegetable or the AI network will refuse to put them into a body that will die from overstimulation and they’ll become a cyber.”

  The room became tense as everyone seemed to lean in.

  “You could deploy units of these merging capable people into the field and assault Maraukians?” Michales asked.

  Pullo leaned back and let others ask questions. Mark gave him a knowing glance.

  “Yes, with the right fire support, resupply, teamwork, and communication net, I believe I could give you a force able to go toe-to-toe with Maraukians.”

  “How? They’d be ripped apart by a herd’s fire. Bellona aren’t armored everywhere because we just feel like it,” Pullo said.

  “Yes, but that’s also because the Bellona is a tall target. Everything in a Maraukian herd can see it and thus shoot it. I might be taller and wider because of my body mod but I’m still not taller than a Maraukian, meaning only the first line of the herd will be able to see me and the other Elves.”

  “Elves, eh?” Pullo grinned.

  “Ava’s idea.” Mark sighed, knowing the name would stick.

  “It’s basically the idea of a limited front: only their front rank can hit you and hopefully you can cut through the first rank and deeper. The Maraukian herd commanders stay back from the first ranks. They’re going to be an organized front,” Pullo said.

  “Artillery, or specific shooters. The weapons I’m thinking of will not just be machine guns cutting down a few ranks of targets. They’ll be able to fire grenades, explosive rounds. Have sensors augment people’s vision. NIAI does the math—point and shoot,” Mark said.

  Pullo held his chin in thought.

  “The armor and weaponry you’d need to do that, though, would have to be generations ahead of what we have currently. Recharging would be a hell of a problem.” Dodger pointed with his cigar.

  Mark took a liberal drag on his own cigar, letting it out in a huff. “Not really generations ahead. I just browsed through the AI databases and found what would make most of the suit up. The coding and some small parts are going to take a lot of work. The power source problem you aren’t going to like.”

  ***

  “ANTI-MATTER!”

  Centurion Flavos, in charge of Legate Pullo’s guard, was about to queue the door to open as he did a quick scan of the legate’s office. The three legionnaires looked at Mark in stunned silence as he puffed his cigar innocently. The adrenaline which flooded his system and made his mouth dry receded as he lowered his rifle. His second, Signifer Lorus, was at his back, stacked as fast as the centurion had reacted. Seemed the extra training had been a good investment of time, no matter the other guards’ bitching.

  “False alarm,” Flavos said.

  Lorus relaxed as they returned to their posts but Flavos kept an eye on the sensors feed.

  ***

  “You’re damn right I don’t like it. It’s worth ten megatons of TNT.”

  “The containment system is made to withstand fifteen megatons from the inside and twenty from the outside. No stray round’s going to set the thing off.”

  “I still don’t like it, Mark.”

  “Well, otherwise, we’re going to have to recharge—by my calculations—every ten minutes or so. With the anti-matter power source, it will last a hundred and fifty years of operating at maximum activit
y and we’ll be able to recharge other suits and weapon systems. I’m already thinking of two weapon systems that will take the power usage just a few times.”

  “A weapon that uses a half pound of anti-matter a few times. That’s just awes...uh, scary.” Dodger’s eyes sparkled as he thought of what it might be.

  “I’m going to have to bump this higher,” Pullo said after a few minutes.

  “Thought you might.” Mark’s tone let the others know what he thought about “higher authority.”

  “Until I get confirmation or denial, Mark, meet your training instructors.” Pullo ignored Mark’s comments and waved at Dodger and Michales, whose demeanor changed. They sat straighter, clearly surprised by the announcement and listening as they already began transforming into their roles. They now studied Mark closer, as if they could see his worthiness.

  “Oh, I know. Sarah saw something was uploaded pertaining to me.”

  “Seems you miss even less now,” Pullo said dryly. “What it didn’t include was, you’ll be put with a group coming from Roma, our home system, as replacements and a few recruited from Crisidium, one of two city-states on this planet—which, if you didn’t know, is called Tricticus.”

  “Lovely. So, when do we get started?” Mark rubbed his hands together.

  “In twenty minutes.” Dodger checked the time on his NIAI.

  “Good luck with training,” Pullo said, clearly a dismissal.

  With that, everyone but Pullo stood. Dodger and Michales saluted by hitting their left breast with their right fist, as Mark gave a straight-armed salute above his eyebrow.

  Pullo returned the Roman style salute as they all put their hands down and walked out.

  “Going to have to get the EMF parade shit out of your head,” Dodger said, happily falling into the role of instructor as the blast door closed behind them and they navigated their way to the simulation room.

  “From whence we came, we shall return,” Sarah said wisely.

  “Where’d you get that saying, off a beer bottle?”

  “No, but you’d be surprised what some of them say,” Sarah said in a tone that made Mark think she’d be all too happy to tell him.

  “I think I’m good for now.”

  “All right, your loss.” She hummed before doing whatever she did when not talking to Mark, which meant looking up information useful to building “the suit.”

  Mark separated himself from Dodger and Michales, and walked to where the candidates stood talking to one another. Talking stopped as Mark walked in. He’d made his nanites cover up the fact his blood was now silver, but his height and size—and the fact he wore black fatigues with no unit identification on them—made him different from everyone else.

  Michales, Dodger, Chyna, and a few instructors Mark didn’t know walked through a door at the front of the room. Everyone turned their attention away from him.

  “All right, we’re here to get the cobwebs out and make sure you’re ready for Tricticus.”

  “All right, you know the drill—grab a sim bubble and we’ll get started.” Dodger picked up after Michales.

  Mark didn’t bother taking his clothes off as they integrated into the simulator’s nanites. He came to a desert camp, a miniature version of Camp Epsilon. Mark guessed it must’ve been the basic layout for all of the legion’s bases. This one had one main dome with four separate domes connected by covered hallways, all of armorite.

  “Seems too light.” Mark moved around.

  “All right. Adjusted, two point three.”

  Mark could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Thank you—just right.”

  Everyone else appeared quickly afterward.

  “All right, basic PT. Get running.”

  Mark grinned as he started walking. He connected to the camp’s AI, which slowed his message as he passed it to the lowest ranked person of the trainers.

  “How far?”

  “As far as we say, candidate.”

  “Certainly, Optio,” Mark said, Sarah supplying the rank. His grin became feral as he lowered his head, slowly picking up speed into a jog. He looked up, his eyes hungry.

  “Dear gods,” Dodger said over the training commanders net as Mark’s hulk took off. He was jogging at fifty-five kilometers an hour and increasing, with ease. Dodger used his leader’s abilities, flying as he caught up with him. He saw Mark’s eyes were unfocused and his hands moved across his interface. “You’re going to tire out if you keep this up.”

  “Dodger, this is my light jogging. I can run for three hundred and seventy-two hours. More if I am able to sleep and allow my NIAI to take over running.”

  Dodger looked at Mark with a new light in his eyes as he recognized the other man was telling him the truth.

  “This is sprinting.” Mark felt hormones and battle chemicals run through his body as he surged ahead. Eight hundred pounds of man accelerated to a hundred and thirty kilometers an hour.

  He settled back down to jogging a few seconds later, with Dodger using his controls to catch up. Mark was back using his interfaces, a grin plastered across his face from the feeling of freedom the sprinting had given him.

  “You pass the running portion.” Dodger sighed.

  “Can I continue? It helps me focus,” Mark said.

  “All right. I’ll notify you when we’re at the next stage.”

  Mark nodded as he continued to run.

  Dodger dropped back to the main pack.

  “Did he just accelerate to over eighty kilometers an hour?” the optio Mark had contacted asked.

  “Yes, and I have a feeling he was just having fun.”

  “That’s just impossible. He has to be hacking,” another of the training cadre said.

  “It’s not, though he has already. He’s under two point three gees right now.” Dodger shook his head as he looked at the readouts coming from Mark’s sim bubble. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

  Next was some strength and endurance testing. Mark aced the tests using weight that would kill any normal human and break any bar not made from carbon hendral well before that. He lifted what equated to buses. More than one person was stunned as he would get up and float to somewhere, his interfaces out and always working on “the suit.”

  ***

  Chyna was in charge of mono-blade training. Time to see how well he does against a real opponent, Chyna thought, calling Mark out.

  The man walked into the sparring circle without a weapon in his hand.

  “Recruit Victor, you were told to get a weapon. Please do so.” Chyna wondered whether the man was playing with him.

  “I’m good.” Mark rolled his shoulders and twitched his triceps.

  Insolent youngster. Chyna rushed forward, slicing at Mark.

  Mark rolled his hands, coming to his sides, twin daggers in them.

  Chyna turned and drove his sword back.

  Mark moved out of the way of the blade. He threw one blade, burying it into Chyna’s leg.

  Chyna stumbled and Mark moved in. He grabbed Chyna’s arm and flipped him, breaking his arm, and drove a blade through his temple.

  Chyna respawned as Mark stood.

  “Where did you train?” Chyna asked, impressed and a little stunned.

  “Earth and the EMF,” Mark said.

  “You’re Major Mark Victor. Diablo,” one of the other recruits said in awe.

  “Yeah.” Mark pulled the two blades from the ground where Chyna’s simulated body had disappeared. He held up his arms and dropped them back into the holsters under his arms.

  “You were there for the Harmony War,” another recruit said.

  “Sela, gather information on Mark Victor, EMF, trooper.”

  “Sir,” Sela said.

  “Everyone to the sparring circles. Let’s begin!” Chyna said, breaking up the conversation.

  The more Chyna watched Mark, the more he saw how he’d misjudged the man.

  Mark’s body and mind knew more fighting styles than Chyna thought possible and he wasn�
��t merging—just using the training he’d spent a lifetime accumulating.

  ***

  They then moved into training with the M19.

  Mark stripped the rifle under Dodger’s eye and reassembled it.

  He knew his weapons. Even if it was a rail gun instead of an electronic firing system, it was similar to the E12 Mark had used.

  He fired it at the targets. It was old hat. He passed with a decent score. He wasn’t any sharpshooter and being in the simulator, he could shoot as much as he wanted to get used to the new gun. The recruits and the training cadre let Mark be as he went into his own world.

  In the middle of the night, Dodger got a ping on his NIAI.

  “Optio Dodger, I was wondering if you could come to the range please,” Mark commed.

  “On my way.” Dodger transported to Mark instantly, catching a rifle.

  “What is this?” Dodger looked over the gun. It looked like a M19 but its magazine was a solid block of material and there was a slight bulge behind the gun’s chamber.

  “M-Nineteen-Alpha. Have a go.”

  Dodger dropped into a firing stance and fired the gun. There were two stages of noise instead of the regular M19. The round was like a single gray streak as it broke the sound barrier and hit the target.

  A stream of gray flashed from Mark’s barrel as thousands of rounds impacted the targets. Mark shot in measured bursts; the targets disintegrated the target within the first couple of rounds and the rest served to liberally coat the range in the debris.

  His hand blurred; another block attached to the first one, which had shrunk as larger rounds hit targets, exploding with their HE payload.

  Dodger joined in firing the rail gun then switching to the under barrel highlighting the ammunition type on his HUD. Through the simulation, Dodger was able to have the blocks recreate themselves so they’d always reach down, finding one on their bodies attached by gravity clamps. After they went through more rounds than they could count, Dodger put his rifle on safe, grinning ear from ear and looking at the crowd that had gathered. Mark did the same with a similar grin.

  “So, what the hell are these blocks?” Dodger pitched his voice so everyone could hear.

  “They’re high-density blocks; the nanites inside the gun take what they need, make the projectile, fix and power the gun all from this block.”