The Tenth Awakens (Maraukian War Book 1)
Page 30
The Maraukians’ sensor suite was amazing, thus there were no sensors in them to guide them back to their targets, leaving them nothing for the Maraukians to lock onto with their sensors. Now the missiles accelerated even faster than they had coming out from their launchers, passing through Machs in seconds.
“Kovyas, get your people down again.”
Kovyas didn’t reply.
Mark hoped he was doing as he asked. “Phantoms, down.” They ducked into their holes.
The LBMs announced their arrival with their air-splitting bangs as they passed through Mach levels.
Mark leapt out of his trench. “Up!” he commanded as he walked forward. His boots clamped to the ground with each step as he fired his M20s upright while walking. Bass rumbled from his external speakers.
“Still too many of them alive,” Chyna said as they went back to running through the destroyed forest. Any debris that had been on the ground before had been part of the blast front projectiles slamming into the Maraukians normals, killing hundreds of thousands of them. The thermal wave from the anti-matter cored LBMs had killed many more, but there were still many more Maraukians left.
***
“What the hell is that?” a munifex asked.
Kovyas grinned as he reloaded his M19 and came up beside the gunner. “That would be Iron Maiden. Run to the hills, run for your lives.” He half sang along, firing over his dirt mound as the Phantoms speakers came to life.
Hellfire rained down on them and Iron Maiden filled the field of battle, the Phantoms cutting a terrifying figure as they continued the advance.
***
“Legatus Sextilius, we need fire support. We’re running low on ammo and the people on the hill are in worse shape than us.”
“I’ve got an artillery battery free—here’s the link.”
“Thank you, Legate.” Mark contacted the artillery centurion. “Hello, Arty?”
“Here and ready. Heard you need some fire from above.”
Mark threw the sensor outlook of the battlefield to the artillery centurion. “Got around five hundred thousand Maraukians.”
“Damn. All right, I won’t be able to fire that close to you.”
“We survived having a half pound of anti-matter blow up above our heads—some shrapnel won’t hurt us.”
“Still…”
“Legate Sextilius, can you get us clearance with the artillery?”
“Will do.”
“All right, support incoming. Get your heads down—incoming shrapnel.”
“Thanks, Arty.”
“Metal incoming,” Mark said as the air filled with the screams of artillery. The Phantoms rose, the world turning to hell around them. Mark poured on the fire, watching his ammo count dwindle as he fired anti-matter charges and running as he did so.
“Last block,” Sarah said.
Mark’s sword materialized in his hand with merging speed, seemingly appearing from nowhere. He paused and looked to the ground.
“Merge.” His voice was harsh yet crystal-clear: the speed and aggression of merging combined with the perfect merciless and deadly control.
The 480mm bomblet dropped from the sky, packed with shrapnel and a dose of HE, and exploded at Maraukian head height.
“Fire.”
The Phantoms released their safeties on their M20s finishing blocks in a matter of seconds. The shrapnel fell like rain on the Phantoms as they ran forward; mono-blades, wires, dagger, and darts appeared as if conjured from thin air as they waded into the Maraukians.
***
“By the gods.” Kovyas watched the Phantoms. He’d never seen a sane human ever charge the ten-foot tall, tusked grey monkeys or try to have a hand to hand fight with them.
The Phantoms smashed the Maraukians. It was like watching a prepared horde hitting humans in the open, but this time, it was the humans cleaving a path through the Maraukians. The Phantoms crushed everything around them. Kovyas looked at the largest suit, its double bastard swords cutting, slicing, and killing everything within their nine-foot reach.
Every movement was choreographed to bring about the most destruction to the Maraukians. Not one movement was wasted as the suits’ camouflage systems turned off, the black armor now blue from the blood. Offending limbs flew, heads dropped, bodies were split, and still the massive suit walked among the Maraukians. The Maraukians might have claws, teeth, and vibro-blades but the suit had mono-blades, the ground, and its own fists.
A suit was hit close to the bigger one. Kovyas could see it instantly as the Maraukians started to converge on the downed suit. The bigger suit came alive as its bastardized mono-blades whipped out mono-wire. The massive suit turned, twirling the swords as if they were yo-yos. It cut through trees; it cut through bone and hide; it spun so fast that objects were shredded by it.
Kovyas saw something he never thought he’d see: herd commanders moved away from the terror that was the suit. It killed hundreds, swinging the blades from its hands then its legs as it threw darts as fast as a machine gun.
The wounded suit got up, now missing an arm and flashing, as it threw darts at the oncoming Maraukians. The bigger suit pulled its swords in as it waded back into the oncoming horde. Blood and carnage flew as it continued a juggernaut of death. Its swords were blurs—terrifying, deadly blurs.
Kovyas knew if he or any of his men had been down there, they’d be dead. These Phantom Lords weren’t legionnaires by any standard. They were something more. Something deadlier and terrifying.
***
Sarah and Mark stood, scanning the area as shrapnel and bomblets blew up around them, the others as interconnected with their AIs as they reported back readiness and to stay the hell out of their killing area. They rode the merge for a few seconds, savoring the feeling of being alive, of living to see another day, of not dying like some of those who had started the journey with them into the battle.
Mark and Sarah fell away from each other. Feeling the power dwindling, Mark flicked his blades in reflex, not thinking of it as he sheathed them. He crouched down next who was said to be Optio Kovyas.
“Hello, Optio. I’m Centurion Victor.”
“Hello there, Centurion. Hope you don’t mind if I stay in my hole. You look a little worse for wear there, son.”
Mark’s view changed so he looked behind him, finding Evan with his right arm missing.
“I’m fine, Optio. Just need to find my arm.”
The optio laughed in his helmet.
“I think Tyler has it.”
“Thanks, boss.” Evan ran off.
“Wait—he was serious?”
“Yeah, just some rebonding. He’ll have a little scar as a reminder, probably. I think I accidentally started that trend.”
“What trend?”
“Keeping the scars to remember the lessons.”
“Makes sense. But still—just putting your arm on like that…”
“We’re used to the damage. We trained for this crap.”
“Understandable.”
“That’s it, I think for the artillery.” The screams of the incoming shells ended rapidly.
“Centurion Victor, we’ve been re-tasked. Good luck.”
“Thanks for the support, Arty.”
“You place the call—we bring the rain.”
“I like it. Victor out.”
Kovyas came out of his crater, whistling at what had been a forest. Kovyas came up beside Mark. “By the gods. How many did we even…”
“One point two million dead Maraukians. Get to the city of Remorse. We’re off.”
“Thanks. We owe you guys a round.”
“Thanks—we’ll be sure to collect.”
The Phantoms gathered together, passing out ammunition from a few who had massive holding cases. Kovyas took off his helmet, not believing his sensors as he looked at the forty-odd Phantom Lords who turned to the direction they’d come from and took off, covering a hundred meters faster than he could sprint as if it were a light jog.
“Currently there is no recommended path to take. I can place you on a waiting list. It is said you will begin at the rank you are warranted. It is only known you will probably not assume the rank of centurion as those who are decani underneath Mark currently are to do so.”
“See you place me on the waiting list and give me updates as they become available.”
He turned back to his people, beaming with pride for a few seconds. “All right, you sorry sons of bitches—grab your kit. We’re getting the fuck out of here.”
This was met with mixed excitement: happy to be free of the hellhole and the pain in the ass they knew it’d be to haul all of their equipment anywhere. Such were the joys in the life of a legionnaire.
Chapter 53
Tower
Earth, Sol system
7/3353
“All right, listen in. As of 1500 Earth time, approximately two hours ago, a state of emergency was declared on Gilese Prime.” Wallace sat at the top of the table. No one was trying to cover over the fact that the Ministry of Intelligence was the real commander of the EMF.
“The people on the planet got this message;” The room went silent as Damus Versanti’s voice filled the room.
Wallace talked into the silence left by the speech. “This legion landed on Gilese in force. They took some cities, erecting defenses. The cities that have been taken by the Maraukians they are not even trying to attack. The Maraukians are hunting down any humans they can find and killing them. We do not know the goals of the Maraukians and they look to be mindless beasts, even with the technology they’ve displayed. It seems all they care about is killing. Once they have cleared a city, then they have started trying to dig out the cryobunkers. It is only a matter of time until they get in the bunkers and start eating the people inside.”
A chill ran down Jones’s spine. He had been brought up to date on the information by his aide. The look in the man’s eyes still stayed with him.
“I want a plan to fight these things and he wants it yesterday.” Wallace looked around the room. The way that he’d emphasized he left little doubt as to who he was talking about. “The Maraukians have plasma cannons that will turn our armor to melted slag. With a sensor suite good enough to shoot down a basically flying tank, seven generations ahead of anything we have—at least. If these legionnaires sense we’re there to kill them—well, from the last sensor read, they have two armadas still circling the planet with unknown weaponry and armor. If it’s at least as strong as these Bellona tanks they’ve got, then it’s going to take five hits with a Gauss cannon to penetrate. Plus it seems they’ve been fighting these Maraukians for a while and I doubt they just have a single force fighting everyone. So they’ve got somewhere to redo the four R’s.” Wallace’s face puckered up as he looked at them all. It seemed like the temperature in the room rose uncomfortably. “Regroup, re-arm, reload, and rest,” Wallace practically growled.
“Then we should attack their base,” three-star General Flouva suggested.
Wallace looked at the man if he had grown a second head.
Jones carefully kept his head down and started looking at information on his implants. He might not have led people on Earth and Fernix, but he’d picked up enough of the basics to pull apart some of what the legion was doing.
“A legionnaire is equipped with powered armor generations beyond our own, a rail gun that I’m told is better than our own AMRs, as well as a sword and a shield.” Wallace must have seen the skeptical looks at the last two items. “Get your fucking heads out of your asses and do it right fucking now,” Wallace said. An image showed on the wall behind him.
A group of legionnaires were formed into a solid line, their shields protecting them against the Maraukians that they were advancing on. It helped to bring into perspective how truly massive the Maraukians were. The legionnaires didn’t seem to care, their black shield wall advancing as blades cut into the creatures.
Legionnaires to the rear were firing over their comrades, creating a truly effective mobile defensive feature. The legionnaires pushed and stepped backward. It seemed they’d lost spirit as they turned and moved backward. The Maraukians moved forward just as the third and fourth line became the first and second. They snapped together like a single entity; their shields took the impact of the Maraukians. Here and there, a Maraukian was able to tear a shield free, or get a clawed hand into the formation. Wherever a hole appeared, a new legionnaire’s shield sprouted, attacking whichever Maraukian had made the breakthrough with impunity.
The video paused.
“They are motivated. They are well armed and well trained. It’s clear this isn’t their first fight and there are an estimated hundred and eighty-thousand legionnaires in the Gilese system. They were able to move them in weeks. While we will gather information, we will not outright attack them. I want plans as to how we will fight Maraukians, how we can fight the legionnaires, what tech we might need—all of it. I want you to plan a war and if you can’t, then I will find people who can.” Wallace looked around the room, his eyes cold.
His eyes came to rest on Jones. “Jones, I have a special assignment for you. While the regular legionnaires are impressive, there have been reports and videos of a group of legionnaires wearing different armor. Some call them Elves; others call them the Phantom Lords. They are the legion’s best. I want to know how we could neutralize them. That kind of tech would be…useful.”
“Yes, sir.” Jones nodded, hiding any indicator he wanted to do anything but deal with the legion.
Chapter 54
Alkali City
Gilese Actual, Gilese system
9/3353
Mark took off his helmet as he slid down to sit against the hull of a burnt-out Bellona. They’d been fighting for a week straight. They’d lost five more Phantoms and retaken twelve cities, clearing them tower by tower. This would be their thirteenth tower. They were running low on ammunition and nanites, and fatigued—however much their NIAIs and medical augments could dull the pull of sleep. Fighting continuously for a week straight or moving it took its toll; even in training, they would’ve slept for a night. The Phantoms didn’t complain, though, as they sat along the hull of the Bellona. Plasma bolts and rail guns fired overhead or pinged the shell every so often. That was for legionnaires, they’d say, grinning to one another and then listen to music or talk and decompress for a little while.
“Where’s the fucking ammunition at?” Jarek commed from where he sat against the tank.
“Believe that’s it there.” Ava highlighted a streak headed straight for them.
“I love the delivery system—always makes me feel safe when we have a KEW aimed at us for resupply.”
“Don’t want Dodger going on another flight,” Mark said.
“I was minding my own bloody business, checking the net, when that bloody missile packed me into the ground,” Dodger said angrily.
“I thought you got your name because you ‘dodge’ things?” Chyna added to the fresh chuckles of the Phantoms.
“Oh shut up.”
Jarek got his laughing under control. “For a second, I thought you were dead, from out of under the damned thing.”
“Well, I’ll say this for the space legion—they do have good aim.”
Laughter broke out from the Phantoms.
“Well, fuck me. This is heavy,” Chyna finished off.
“Well, it looks like this one’s not aimed at you this time,” Ava said as the pod buried itself in the ground.
Dodger exaggerated looking in the sky, continuing the good-natured laughs. “Thank fuck for that. Don’t think my back will ever be the same again.” He rubbed the back of his armor as if he were a pre-gene therapy geriatric.
“All right, you know the drill.” Mark grinned as he packed a new lip and put his helmet on. A burst of anti-grav put him on his feet. In a few bounds, he was at the pod, grabbing the much-needed high-density blocks and ready-ma
de LBM packs. Sarah used the anti-grav to move the blocks into the positions Mark specified as he loaded his M20s manually.
Someone hooked him up to the autoloader, which filled his internal magazines.
Mark dropped back into his sitting position against the tank. “All right, might as well relax until someone gets our artillery into position and Legatus Sextilius gives us the…”
“Word?” Ava finished for him as his faraway gaze meant he was looking at something through his interface.
Mark stood and turned in a circle. “Give me a minute.” His M20s cycled as he fired in a circle around himself and then jumped, falling through the ground.
“Mark!?” Ava yelled over the net as she cycled her M20s, covering the hole.
“Always wanted to do that since I saw it in an old movie. She wore spandex. Great rear.”
“Mark,” Ava said warningly.
“I’m fine. Seems we were sitting on their manufacturing base. This is one of the first cities, so nearly everything’s underground. C’mon down when you’re loaded.”
“Damned idiot. You think you could’ve told us?” Ava jumped down, checking her surroundings and moving before the next Phantom landed.
“Well, this’ll sort out the nanite shortage.” Jarek jumped on a pile of raw metal, his nanites getting to work.
Sarah brought up the plan they’d used on the last nine cities. After some tweaking, Mark was pleased with it and sent it to everyone else as his nanites ate a shelving unit. It wasn’t as though anyone was going to need it in the near future.
Chapter 55
Westerly Slums
Earth, Sol system
9/3353
“You wanted more information on the black suits. They’re called the Phantom Lords, or Elves. They’ve got about sixty people. We can’t get exact numbers but it seems they’re the main assaulting force of the legion,” one of Nivad’s personal agents, a man who went by M, said. “Their armor is generations—even centuries—ahead of their regular powered armor. To use it, the Phantoms have to undergo body modifications. We’re unsure of what kind. Also, it appears they have the ability to ‘merge.’ Not really sure what happens but they become stronger, faster, and can operate their suits to capacity.”