by Tripp Ellis
Search for Honor
Tripp Ellis
Tripp Ellis
Copyright © 2017 by Tripp Ellis
All rights reserved. Worldwide.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents, except for incidental references to public figures, products, or services, are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental, and not intended to refer to any living person or to disparage any company’s products or services.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, uploaded, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter devised, without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
1. Zack
2. Zack
3. Vuul
4. Vuul
5. Zack
6. Zack
7. Zack
8. Zack
9. Mercs
10. Mercs
11. Zack
12. Mercs
13. Cole
14. Mercs
15. Cole
16. Zack
17. Zack
18. Zack
19. Zack
20. Zack
21. Zack
22. Zack
23. Zack
24. Zack
25. Zack
26. Zack
27. Zack
28. Zack
29. Zack
30. Zack
31. Zack
32. Zack
33. Zack
34. Zack
35. Flur
36. Zack
37. Zack
38. Zack
39. Zack
40. Zack
41. Diesel
42. Zack
43. Diesel
44. Zack
45. Diesel
46. Zack
47. Diesel
48. Zack
49. Diesel
50. Zack
51. Diesel
52. Zack
53. Diesel
54. Charlie
55. Zack
56. Zack
Thank You!
The Galactic Wars Series
Connect With Me
1
Zack
The cold steel barrel of a plasma pistol pressed firmly against a young girl’s forehead. Her body trembled with fear, and tears streamed down her cheek.
Zack watched in horror as the alien tormented the young girl. The Tarvaax were marching prisoners aboard a transport ship. There were thousands of them. It was anyone's guess what they were going to do with them. A range of horrendous thoughts flooded through Zack's mind. Perhaps they would be used as slaves. Perhaps food. Maybe they were to be used as human shields to aid in the Tarvaax escape? Or perhaps the aliens had some other, more nefarious purpose.
Armed guards kept the prisoners in line. They hurried the captives along, trying to evacuate before the UPDF forces advanced. Zack and Diesel were atop a roof, not quite a thousand yards away from the internment camp. Zack’s optical zoom and tactical visor gave him a pristine view of the compound. With a 100x magnification, he could see the name tag of the enemy soldier who had the gun pointed at the girl.
The soldier was irritated and yelling at her. It was clear she didn't understand what he was saying, which only further seemed to enrage him.
“Let me see your rifle," Zack said.
"What are you going to do?" Diesel had a concerned look on her face. Zack tended to be a little impulsive at times.
"I'm not going to let him shoot that little girl."
“You're going to give away our position. We'll lose the element of surprise."
“Just give me the weapon."
She handed him the M7.
He took the rifle and lined up the enemy soldier in his sights. A thousand yards was a long way. But Zack had qualified as an expert marksman at this range. Plus, the M7 had a stabilization feature and a targeting assist.
Zack watched as the soldier’s finger gripped the trigger. It was clear the alien was moments away from putting a sizable hole in the little girl’s head.
From the corner of his eye, Zack caught a glimpse of someone who looked a lot like Honor. Same dark hair, same body type. But he couldn't be sure from this angle. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Finally, the person standing in front of her moved, and Zack could see her sparkling eyes. It was her, alright. Terrified and hungry, but alive.
Diesel was right. Taking the shot would give away their position and ruin any element of surprise that they may have had. But Zack couldn't just sit by and watch the little girl die. He lined up the reticle of his sights on the alien's ugly head. Zack took a deep breath and held it. He remained perfectly still. He could hear his pulse thump in his ears. It was like the rest of the world faded into nothingness, and all he felt was the tip of his finger. All he could see was the spot on the alien's forehead that was soon to be incinerated.
Zack squeezed the trigger, and the glowing plasma bolt rifled through the air. A moment later, the alien’s head vaporized. His body flopped to the ground, still twitching.
The prisoners looked stunned. They weren't sure what had just happened.
The guards scrambled, looking for the sniper. Before long, plasma bolts were whizzing through the air at Zack and Diesel. They both crouched low, taking cover behind the low wall at the edge of the rooftop. Plasma strikes exploded on the other side, chipping away at the concrete, showering debris and dust into the air.
"Happy now?"
“What was I supposed to do? Let her die?"
Diesel didn't have an answer for that. Truth be told, she would have done the same thing, and she knew it.
“Come on. Let's get out of here." Zack scrambled to the roof access point, and Diesel followed after him. They spiraled down the tenuous staircase and weaved through the dilapidated structure to the street.
Just setting foot in a building like that was taking your life in your hands. The entire city had been reduced to brittle fragments of its former self. Once great structures were reduced to piles of concrete and rebar. The streets were pocked and scarred with bomb blasts. Shards of glass, and twisted carcasses of vehicles, lined the streets. The air was thick with dust and haze. Plumes of black smoke rose into the sky. The air had a charred smell to it. Breathing in all the noxious fumes and particles couldn't be good for you, Zack thought. But respiratory problems later in life were the least of his concerns at the moment.
He could hear the sound of fighting draw closer as the UPDF forces pushed deeper into the city. With any luck, they'd arrive in time to liberate the POWs. But Zack wasn't just going to sit around and wait.
They weaved their way through the war-torn streets, snaking through alleyways and ruins.
“Do you have some kind of plan?" Diesel asked.
Zack shrugged. "Not really."
Diesel huffed. "So, what are we going to do? Run in, guns blazing, and hope for the best?"
Zack shrugged again.
“How about you give me my rifle back?"
Zack had almost forgotten he had borrowed it. He glanced down to the weapon, then handed it to her. “Thanks.”
“Still feel like going in guns blazing?" She said smugly.
Zack didn’t look quite as enthusiastic without a weapon. Before he had a chance to respond, more plasma bolts whizzed at them.
2
Zack
Zack and Diesel ducked for cover behi
nd a pile of concrete. Plasma bolts streaked through the air. Diesel angled her weapon over the berm and fired back at the Tarvaax patrol.
Zack felt useless without a weapon.
Diesel unleashed a few bursts, then crouched down for cover. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm running low on ammo."
Bits of concrete and debris rained down on them as plasma bolts exploded nearby, impacting the piles of concrete.
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all."
"Good ideas are not your strong point." She sprang up and fired off a few more rounds, then ducked back down. "I'll put down some cover fire as you make a run for the building." She nodded to a dilapidated structure across the street.
Zack nodded.
Diesel angled her weapon over the berm and fired off a few more rounds. Zack dashed across the street. Plasma bolts hammered all around him erupting geysers of debris from the asphalt. He disappeared into the structure and crouched down behind a wall. He peered through a window frame then watched Diesel take off running.
Brilliant beams of ionized plasma sliced all around her. She ran as fast as she could. Zack's whole body tensed with dread. It was almost worse watching someone run the gauntlet than doing it yourself.
A glowing burst of plasma streaked in front of her face. It was a near miss, but the intense heat was enough to instantly blister her skin. She winced with pain as she continued to run to the dilapidated structure. She dove inside as another bolt erupted at her feet.
"Are you okay?" Zack asked.
Diesel grimaced as she staggered to her feet. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just got an instant sunburn."
"Yeah, that's definitely going to leave a mark."
She frowned. "Great. I'm going to end up spending my combat bonus on skin resurfacing."
"It doesn't look that bad," Zack said, trying to reassure her.
She knew he was full of it. "Let's keep moving."
They weaved through the building and emerged on Hawthorne Street. They cut through an alley, then continued north. The duo had managed to escape the patrol, for now.
"How many were there?" Diesel asked.
"I don't know. I counted four."
"They must be pulling back to the camp. They didn't seem too interested in coming after us."
Zack saw one of the alien transports rise above the skyline. Its massive thrusters engaged, and the big behemoth rocketed toward the upper atmosphere, leaving only a wake of ion wash.
Zack's heart sank. He had no idea if Honor was aboard that transport.
Several more lumbered into the sky. By the time Zack and Diesel made it to the internment camp, the last ship was lifting off and retracting its landing gear. It was maybe 50 feet off the ground. The rest of the compound was empty. All the enemy soldiers were gone, except for the body of the soldier Zack had sniped from the rooftop. The alien carcass lay in a pool of blood.
The place was a wreck. There were garbage and empty storage crates. There were the remains of less fortunate prisoners that had fallen victim to the wrath of the Tarvaax. It was like the aftermath of a rock concert, or any other venue where large amounts of people gathered. The show was over, and everyone was gone. It was the Global Devastation Intergalactic Tour, brought to you by the Tarvaax.
Zack looked crestfallen as he watched the ship vanish into the hazy sky. Was Honor on that ship? His foster parents? How would he ever find them again?
Diesel could see his obvious distress.
Flies were buzzing all around the area, congregating on the corpses of the fallen prisoners. It was a horrid site. And every now and then, the breeze would blow just right, and the stench would smack you in the face like a wet sock. It was almost enough to make you gag.
Zack began the unpleasant task of sifting through the remains, looking for his loved ones. He was praying he wouldn't see a familiar face. Diesel watched with empathy as he surveyed the area.
Zack could hear the unmistakable sound of a mechanized Marine unit approaching. Walker-tanks clattered against the concrete as they marched into the area with several platoons of Marine infantry.
The hatch of one of the walker-tanks lifted, and a 1st Lieutenant poked his head out, and scanned the carnage.
"It's about time you guys showed up," Zack said, then added, "Lieutenant.”
“We’d have been here a lot sooner if that damn shield had been down when we landed. I tell you, that landing was a massive Charlie Foxtrot,” the lieutenant said. "I don't know who brought that shield down, but I could kiss them."
"Sorry, Lieutenant. You're not my type."
The LT looked impressed. "So that was you two?"
"Along with Major Malone. She's the real hero."
"Now that doesn't surprise me at all. Where is the major?"
"Zack just shook his head. "She didn't make it."
The LT deflated. It was easy to see that he knew Major Malone well and was crushed at the loss.
A voice in the distance broke the silence. "Holy shit! Salvator, is that you?"
Zack recognized the voice instantly. A grin curled up on his face. He looked to see a Marine making his way toward him. But the face, and body, didn't match the voice. Zack's eyes went wide with surprise. "Matt?"
"I wondered if I'd ever see you again," Matt said with a sly grin. The two clasped hands and bro-hugged each other.
"Damn, son! Look at you."
Matt displayed his new physique. "Lost the baby fat,” he said with a grin. "Courtesy of the Donut Brigade."
His formerly round face was now square, and his chest was bigger than his belly. It was a remarkable transformation.
"I hardly recognized you."
"And look at you, you don't look like the wimpy kid anymore."
Zack's eyes narrowed at him. "I was never wimpy."
Matt scoffed. "Oh, okay."
The two chuckled.
"Hey, maybe Dean Dully will think twice about messing with you now."
Zack's smile faded a little. "Dean is probably dead. Along with just about everyone else we knew."
Matt's smile faded too. "Way to bring the mood down."
Matt leaned in to Zack and whispered, nodding at Diesel, “So, who's the babe?"
"Who? Diesel?"
"She definitely has DSL."
"I thought you and Evelyn were a thing?"
"I have a girlfriend. I'm not dead. Besides, she doesn't care where I gain my appetite, as long as I dine with her." Matt smiled in the charming, disarming way that only he could.
"I think my parents, and Honor were on one of those transports."
Matt deflated. "I'm sorry, buddy. My parents didn’t make it through this either. I got word that they were killed during the initial attack. At least they didn't have to suffer through the occupation."
“That’s one way of looking at it." Zack was crestfallen. "We gotta get some payback."
“Damn straight."
3
Vuul
General Loktar’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets. His face was red, and the veins in his forehead bulged. He gasped for breath as Emperor Vuul’s fist tightened around his throat. The general pawed at Vuul’s grasp to no avail. It didn't matter how much he struggled, he wasn't going to free himself from the tyrant’s grip.
The Emperor's eyes blazed with rage. His snarling face looked fearsome, like a rabid animal about to devour its prey. "I'm holding you personally accountable, General Loktar.”
The general tried to scratch out a few words, but he couldn't manage to pass any air across his vocal chords. He had been in the unfortunate position of informing the Emperor that his son, Xorgon, was dead.
The Emperor's massive hands were like a vice. A hideous crack echoed off the palace walls as Loktar’s spine snapped. Vuul finally released his grip, and the general flopped to the marble floor, nothing more than a limp sack of bones.
The Emperor’s courtiers looked on in horror. There was a momentary pause, and a few audible gasps, t
hen they hurriedly returned to business as usual.
The Emperor's palace was opulent. High vaulted ceilings and towering Doric columns. Elaborate carvings adorned the shaft and capital of the pillars. His throne was ornate, made entirely of one of the rarest metals in the galaxy—trilvaltium. It sat atop a stepped riser shrouded by a canopy. The thing probably cost more than the gross domestic product of some of the colonies. It was decorated with priceless gems and crystals. The hall was adorned with all the pomp and majesty befitting a ruler with the power that Vuul possessed.
The chancellor motioned for a few courtiers to take the body away. He knew the Emperor would fly into a rage about the clutter before too long. The courtiers scooped up the dead alien and carted him out of the chamber.
The Emperor's hateful eyes scanned the hall looking for his next victim to take his frustrations out on.
None of the courtiers wanted to make eye contact.
The general had given Emperor Vuul footage retrieved from Xorgon's camera crew—multiple angles of his last battle with Zack. He watched it on the display near his throne over and over again. Vuul seethed with anger.
Chancellor Grava, watched with trepidation. He knew the Emperor could snap at any moment