Citation Series 1: Naero's War: The Annexation War

by Mason Elliott

  With his mighty gift, the Maestro thundered what could not be put into words, and expressed in music–all that their bursting hearts and souls could not utter.

  When he finished, Zeke shattered his priceless thiolin and his bow over one knee, and cast the glittering fragments out beyond the launching screen shields and into the black.

  Toward the bright star.

  The Maestro never played again.

  Less that a day later, he slipped away peacefully in his slumber, and his spirit joined the Alliance fallen, on to the next journey, in highest honor.

  51

  Naero spent six, heart-wrenching days going on board each remaining vessel that served under her authority with Strike Fleet Six. She personally saw to the disbanding, and mustering out of their volunteer crews.

  None left their ship without clasping hands with her or embracing at some point along the way. She would not allow it.

  With the war over, the private ships themselves would be returned forthwith to their Clans, who had only leant them to the Alliance for the war’s duration.

  As their commander, their great captain, Naero thanked them repeatedly. She bestowed any last awards upon them, and made personal note of the many citations for bravery and valor that their unit, and ship, and so many of them had rightfully earned.

  These were now her family, and they hugged, embraced, and kissed cheeks as they said their bittersweet farewells and departed.

  Naero wished them all every happiness and success.

  Had it been in her power, she would have sent them all back to their families and friends in triumph, laden down with the heavy hoarded wealth of crushed enemy despots and tyrants.

  Such was their valor and their worth in her mind.

  But much like her, they laid down their arms, eager now only to go back to their little lives, and take up their own private obligations and ambitions once more during peace time. Just as it should be.

  Yet Naero had made many friends. There would be an explosion of trade and exploration among the entire Alliance and the many hundreds of liberated worlds. And Naero vowed to meet with them again and work out trade ventures for them all among the stars. In the future at some point, once her own path became clear.

  She surprised Captain Max Lii and his jealous entourage with a long, deep, luxurious parting kiss, that left both of them breathless and yearning for more.

  Finally, after the others were all gone, Naero went to the fixer clouds, where the battered Hippolyta again was being repaired and made fit once more for service somewhere.

  Many found planetoid vessels ugly, unlovely, and un-streamlined.

  But to Naero, the amazon was fierce, functional, and beautiful. The Hippolyta–like her namesake, remained tough, formidable, and enduring. Let the Thirty Amazon Sisters fight on.

  Time and time again, Naero’s amazon had proven herself. No foe had ever triumphed against her and her four huge guns. Battered and stricken she may have been, but she still remained indomitable and unvanquished to the last.

  Naero went on board, rode the lifts and movers, and walked the bridge and all of Hippolyta’s empty decks, alone with her many thoughts and sorrows. And the soft, quiet tread of her own small feet.

  She had never felt such a lack, such loss. Not since the deaths of her parents, Gallan, Jan’s abduction, and Jeremiah’s loss.

  The weight of it all threatened to crush even her fierce and mighty spirit.

  That was when and where Aunt Sleak and Zalvano found her at last.

  Each of them embraced her.

  Zalvano spoke softly and straight forward. “Naero–you missed your own citation ceremony, and the bestowal of all of your many awards and commendations, that you’ve so rightly earned.”

  Naero shrugged, then sighed. “I don’t care about all of that so much. Are they not going to give them to me or something?”

  Aunt Sleak shook her head. “No, once an honor has been awarded, it remains part of your service record and your Clan’s honor. Forever.”

  “Then what’s the big deal? Like everyone else, I’m just plain sick of this war–all of the senseless death and loss.”

  Surprisingly, it was Zalvano who grew angry and gave her a talking to.

  “Not all of it was senseless, Naero. Do not speak so.” We were all part of a great and noble effort. A terrible evil has been vanquished and destroyed. Trillions of people are now free. We took down and destroyed one of our greatest enemies of all time. That, spacechild, is something to be roundly celebrated.”

  Aunt Sleak smiled with great pride and held her head high.

  She gently put her hand on Naero’s face and lifted her chin up as well.

  “I had the great pleasure–nay–the great privilege, to watch my beloved sister’s only daughter go forth with vast courage, and the highest honor, and acquit herself to the respect and admiration of our finest warriors and leaders. To see her counted great and equal among them–as I knew she would.”

  Aunt Sleak kissed her on both cheeks and then released her.

  Zalvano smiled, stepped forward, and took Naero’s hands in his.

  “These are high honors for one so young, Naero. And the blood of your mighty mother and father sings with joy and triumph in your veins. They would be so very proud of you, were they here. For you have made a name for yourself next to theirs, to stand beside them in proven honor, for all time. You have done these things, by yourself, on your own.”

  Naero embraced and kissed them both.

  “You are my blood. This is the blood I come from,” she said softly. Then she quickly shook her head.

  “Nay, I did nothing alone. My family and my friends and my brave people have always been with me and by my side. So many helped me, and paid the price I have not. I could not have done any of this without the least of them.”

  She thought again of poor Jeremiah and his family.

  So many that died deserved to live.

  Aunt Sleak chuckled a bit. “Perhaps it was well that you bypassed the ceremony, Naero. You’re so short. All of those citations would have filled your jacket. They would have had to run them down your pants.”

  “My legs are short too,” Naero said, glancing down.

  All of them laughed again at that.

  Zalvano asked her, “So, what’s the great war hero going to do now?”

  Naero shrugged again, then clenched her fists and opened them.

  “Dunno. The same as everybody else–go back to being a Spacer. But truthfully? I feel like…like I’m going crazy inside. Haisha! Like I could burst. So much has happened…and Jan’s still missing. I’ve never taken any time to process it all still. All I did was keep fighting and keep going forward with the next task at hand. Like running away, in a sense. Now it’s all crashing back down on me. And I don’t think I can handle it. I need to…get away somewhere for a while.”

  Aunt Sleak patted her on the shoulder.

  “More than understandable. You’re still so young. Go ahead. Take a few days. Get your head on straight. Just don’t go too far. You still have the KDM within you. And what if those bizarre powers of yours return at some point?”

  Naero shook her head. “Fat chance of that. It’s been months so far, without even a tingle. Even my old headaches are gone. For better or for worse, I think that part of my life is over.”

  She had even nearly forgotten about Om, The Kexxian AI lost within her mind.

  “Whatever,” Aunt Sleak said, with her own grim smile. “Just prepare to get to work for me the minute you get back. And plan to work hard. Remember, you owe me a lot of credits.”

  Naero’s mouth dropped open.

  “How much do you think I owe you?”

  “Let’s just say…a lot.”

  “How much? I need to know.”

  Zalvano smiled. “No you don’t. Trust me.”

  “I’m serious. Give me a number.”

  Aunt Sleak whispered an amount in her ear.

  Naero’s eyes popped op
en wide like iris valves.

  “Haisha!” she shrieked. “Holy shit!”

  Her knees felt weak.

  She needed to sit down.

  Naero started to panic.

  She’d be in debt to Aunt Sleak for years to come.

  Now she really had to get away.

  Far away.

  Maybe even change her name and start over.

  She knew how to do that.

  Suddenly…it came to her.

  Naero had a very good idea about exactly where she needed to go to get away from all of her troubles, and hide out for a while.

  And with whom.

  She even managed a brief, sly, eager grin.

  The time was more than right. She’d put it all off too long as it was.

  Naero knew precisely what she had to do.

  Too bad if her aunt and Klyne and Spacer Intel wouldn’t approve. Too bad if they all didn’t like it all one bit.

  Her life was her own. She was tired of taking orders, for a while at least.

  She’d work it all out with them, after the fact.

  After she got back, let them be angry.

  Now, to make her getaway.

  THE END

  Please enjoy the following teaser…and excerpt, from the next book in this new spinoff series that we call:

  Naero’s War:

  THE HIGH CRUSADE

  THE CITATION SERIES, BOOK TWO

  by Mason Elliott

  General Walker’s Marines from Bravo Command maneuvered into position under the cover of darkness using their stealth gear.

  Naero agreed to slip in ahead and bait the trap, in her battlefield role as Shettana–The Dark Angel of Death.

  Get ready, Om. The show’s about to start.

  I will need some time to prepare, concentrate, and focus enough of our energies in reserve, before you deplete them all once more.

  Just get ready and keep us ready. I’m going to set our game plan in motion.

  I will do all that I can to assist. Call upon me when you require me. Good hunting, Naero.

  Thanks, Om.

  The invaders would do anything to have a chance to destroy or capture her.

  She was–in fact–the actual, literal bait, and the trap was being set for an entire invasion force of Ejjai elite, ravaging the Corps border world of Tholos-4.

  No local planetary army, military, or militia had been able to stand before the horrific onslaught of the alien invaders.

  The Ejjai hammered the local landers into submission with advanced artillery, orbital bombardment from Ejjai fleets, and close assault gunships and gravtanks.

  Then the terrifying collection process began, and all the living, wounded, and dead were hurled into the shrieking, whining processing blades of the robotic meatships.

  The horrible sounds of the meatships warred with the screams of their countless victims.

  Given time, Ejjai mass cloning factories and robotic ship and weapon-building factories would also be established onworld.

  The murdering bastards had already wiped three major cities and their mixed populations off the surface of the hapless planet, before Naero and the Marines could even deploy on world.

  The enemy left those lost cities little more than red, blackened, burning scars and stains that could be viewed from orbit.

  Nothing left alive.

  Ejjai hyaenanoids loved carrion.

  Every man, woman, and child of any kind, species, or age that the enemy captured was routinely tortured, killed, and processed into rotting ration blocks in the horrific, robotic meatships of the invading aliens. That included any sentients, pets, livestock—anything and everything that was meat.

  The meatblock rations were only frozen to keep them from breaking down, and decaying completely.

  Hatred was too gentle a word for what most humans felt for the Ejjai invaders and their extreme methods. Spacers, landers, and each of the other known races that encountered the Ejjai quickly learned to feel the same way.

  This vile, uplifted, intrusive and opportunistic species needed to be completely exterminated, wherever it was encountered.

  The invaders proved that they were incapable of co-existing with any other living things.

  The Ejjai could only dominate, torture, and destroy all life that they encountered, anything they could sink their teeth and claws into. Uplifting them, and giving them advanced weapons and starships had only turned them into a galactic abomination, an interstellar menace, a virulent plague.

  An utter nightmare.

  One that needed to end for the poor people of Tholos-4.

  Naero and her Marine allies were here to see to that.

  It was amusing that the Ejjai always saw themselves as invincible, the supreme warriors.

  Shettana and Bravo Command quickly intended to disavow the foe of such jaded notions, time and time again.

  The Marines of Bravo Commander were the textbook picture of professional warriors. A legend among all the known systems.

  Naero loved serving with the elite of the elite. Together they made a fantastic team.

  Even the Ejjai had learned grudgingly to fear them from their initial engagements, and the proof was there.

  Every invader force that came up against Bravo Command had been completely wiped out–in record time. And then Bravo quietly packed up and headed on to the next world, ready to do it all over again.

  The enemy struggled to halt the Spacer advance and throw it back.

  They tried everything they could think of.

  Increased enemy numbers.

  Different tactics.

  New weapons–traps and tricks of many different kinds.

  The Ejjai Generals turned themselves inside out trying to find a solution–way to achieve victory against the Spacer advance.

  Bravo Command slipped in and ruined the invaders’ sick, twisted party, every single time.

  And Shettana, The Dark Angel of Death, used all of her amazing, Mystic powers and abilities to help the Marines keep up the pressure, and drive the enemy to terror, madness, and distraction.

  General Walker worked closely with Spacer Intel, always making sure his leathernecks had the latest high-tek toys, weapons, and armor that came online.

  As a result, they landed an entire Marine Division on Tholos-4 and slipped into position, without the enemy even knowing they were there yet.

  By the time the Spacer Fleets swept in to destroy the enemy naval forces–Bravo Command would already be implementing their plan to put the foe down hard and fast on the ground.

  Three Marine infantry regiments, one artillery regiment, plus specialized units of meks, armor, and air-to-ground support.

  The ghosts of Bravo Command spread the impending Shadow of Vengeance and Death over their foes like an unseen net, without any knowledge or awareness among the invaders themselves.

  Bravo and Shettana prepared for another stunning series of lightning attacks.

  All became poised and ready, while the heedless enemy celebrated their vile victories and atrocities.

  Naero struggled to remain silent as she slipped in among the foe. Death and damnation to any invader who thought they could invade the human sectors with impunity, death, and cosmicide.

  On every world, the invader needed to be taught that bloody lesson.

  Naero strode right into the belly of the beast.

  Alone.

  Defiant.

  Confident in her skills and abilities and all of her comrades depending on her and backing her up.

  Her cloaked combat armor made her virtually invisible. The Ejjai could not even smell her.

  She used her gravwing to slip into the most heavily guarded command and control bunker the enemy possessed. With her skill and her tek, she could crawl upside down on the ceilings like an unseen insect.

  Her miniature vidcams and audio collectors fed data to Intel in real time, covering everything she saw.

  Naero’s small contingent of cloaked Intel fixers and micro
drones stayed close, ready to disrupt key enemy systems and communications when ready, planting microbombs and detonation devices as they went.

  The Invader High Command celebrated their latest triumph with what one might expect from them–a huge, decadent, disgusting feast–held within a shielded bunker.

  They set up their victory celebration within a huge underground arena, probably used by the Tholosians for some kind of urban or regional sporting event.

  Ejjai got drunk on stinking, fermented grog made from human blood. They shipped it in from the meatships by the tankerful.

  Under the bright lights of the hi-tek arena, tens of thousands of Ejjai feasted and celebrated their latest victories. The enemy generals praised their troops and used the huge arena vidscreens to plot out their next attacks on the three nearest Tolosian cities.

  On the center of the playing field, Ejjai transports and appropriated trucks had also hauled in and dumped huge piles of human corpses from the local population for their undefeated troops to feed on.

  Piles of fresh and not so fresh meat, diverted from the enemy meatships to help sate the troops in large numbers.

  One of the piles was all dead children and infants.

  Even worse, to Naero’s horror, some of the bodies in the various meat piles were somehow still alive. They twitched or cried out in pain and terror. Some weakly attempted to crawl away, despite broken or missing limbs.

  The Ejjai quickly seized them and began tormenting them even further, laughing hysterically at the sport. They stabbed, cut, and skinned them alive—or otherwise got creative.

  As Ejjai were wont to do.

  Ejjai were among the vilest, most disgusting creatures Naero had even encountered.

  She resisted the very strong impulse to cut loose on them right then and there.

  But she couldn’t–not yet.

  These monsters needed to die. Every single one of them.

  And very soon, she would have a direct hand in launching the attack that would accomplish just that.

  The timing had to be just right, so she steeled herself.