King looked back to the doorway. It was close to being breached. He rushed back to it, put the muzzle of his Aquilla into the breach, and fired as quickly as he could. He heard screams as those beyond were struck, but a moment later the entire thing erupted with an almighty explosion. It sent him flying back two metres and crashing down to the deck. He was stunned, but knowing what was at stake, forced himself back up. He looked back. The transport craft coming in for final landing, but he could see four Rhepoys rushing towards him. One had a rifle, but the other three were down to their Firanwars. For they never equipped the Rhepoys with much ammunition except on operations that required it.
He was empty-handed but reached for his Guardian. The weapon he had come to depend on, as the Colonel said he would. He ducked down, cut the legs out from one, and spun about to do the same to another. He then righted himself and took a powerful blow of another on his blade held high in front of his head. He closed with him and drew the blade across his throat. But a blade cut down deep against his back and neck, and he turned about in pain, dropping to one knee. He knew his time was over, but he could see the Colonel being carried aboard the transport by Stone and the rest of the survivors.
King let out a visceral war cry as he turned to face his attacker and lunged at him. He ducked out of the way, but he could see who it was now, Baclu, the one who had incited them all. King was fading fast, but he was determined to get his revenge. He thrust deep, and as Baclu parried, he rotated the blade inside his guard and slashed deeply across his face. The blade cut Baclu’s nose in half, and he cried out in pain. But in response, Baclu cut down onto his collar. The blade drove deep, and he was done for.
Lieutenant King collapsed down to his knees, and as his vision faded, he saw the ramp closing on the craft as it lifted off. Sergeant Stone was peering back at him. They were too far away to exchange words, but the sadness and respect he felt was all over his face.
Baclu lifted his blade over the Lieutenant and drove it deep into his collar, killing him instantly. Stone looked back to see Colonel Rossman had been there beside him and seen it all.
“It has begun, a great war of our time, a Mutiny,” he declared.
“Then it was all for nothing?”
“No, Sergeant, this was not the end. This was the beginning. Lieutenant King set an example for us all. We’re going to return, and we are going to fight.”
“To Lieutenant King!” Stone held up his helmet in salute.
“This war isn’t over. It’s only just begun.”
THE END
AWAKENING
The last empire
By Nick S. Thomas
Copyright © 2019 by Nick S. Thomas
Published by Swordworks Books
Prologue
The Empire’s hold on far-reaching colonies hangs in the balance as mutinous actions break out across the planet of Rhamprox. It began at Horproxa after the executions of rebellious Rhepoys caused the whole garrison to turn on their officers. One hero arose from the action, Lieutenant Joey King, but he paid for it with his life. As violence spreads across the world, the Empire must struggle to regain control, and find more Marines with the heart and fighting spirit of the legendary Lieutenant King.
Chapter 1
“Is that the best you’ve got?” An angry muscle-bound mountain of a man yelled, as he spat blood out across the prison dining hall floor. He beat his chest violently and then rushed towards a more normal size man, whose nametag read King. He was average height but still well enough built. He was smiling as if enjoying every minute of the violent clash. The monster inmate rushed forward and swung wildly with a punch large enough to take his head clean off. He ducked under it and came up with a brutal uppercut. It caused the bigger man to fold a little, but he came back with a sharp backhand slap that threw King back.
The blow rocked him, but he wouldn’t let anyone know it.
“Come on, Nelson, you fat bastard!”
It was true, Nelson was fat, but beneath that layer was more muscle than King had ever seen before. He looked more like a circus strongman than a Marine. He rushed forward once again. King kicked to his thigh, trying to take his legs out from under him, but he couldn’t move the mountain of a man who was on in him no time. He grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted him off his feet. His feet were dangling, and he tried to lash out with his fists, but he could get no leverage. Nelson cracked him with a headbutt, and his nose split open as he resisted. He was beginning to choke as Nelson smiled gleefully. Blood was still streaming from his nose and into his teeth. He reached into his waistband, pulled out a small shiv, and thrust it into Nelson’s left forearm. He cried out in pain, and his grip weakened for a moment.
King’s feet touched the ground, and he didn’t hesitate to take his opportunity. Pushing off the ground, he drove his knee into Nelson’s stomach, and then an elbow into his head. The giant inmate staggered back, but King was not done. He ran at him and leapt into the air, both his feet connecting with a kick that had all his bodyweight behind it. Nelson was thrown back like he’d never been before and crashed over a table and chairs. He landed unceremoniously in a heap on the other side. King was quickly on his feet, and smiling at his handiwork. The smile was quickly removed as a growl rang out. Nelson shot up, and the table in front of him was thrown across the room. He looked furious as he glared at King with murderous intent. He drew the shiv from his arm and held it up as if to throw it.
Grabbing the only thing to hand, a dinner tray, King put it up in defence. The shiv hit and pierced the tray, stopping halfway along its length as it became stuck. The tip of the blade was millimetres from King’s eyes, which widened in horror. He threw the tray aside on hearing the thunderous charge of Nelson coming for him. He took a deep breath, readying for an epic struggle once again. As Nelson closed the distance, an alarm rang out, and an army of guards stormed in. Three of them with riot shields crashed into Nelson, knowing they would need that many to bring him to a standstill.
Even with the three heavily armed guards, Nelson still drove them back, until one cracked him over the head with a baton that electrified on impact, and he went down like a dead weight.
“Break it up. Back to your cells,” roared one of the guards.
King wiped the blood from his nose and mouth, flicking it onto the floor as he turned to leave.
“Not you, King,” the guard called out.
He smiled, as he didn’t expect to get away with it, but it was worth a try.
“Take them away. Three weeks in the box, for both of you,” growled the guard.
King knew it should seem like some grave punishment, but he didn’t care anymore. Nelson was coming to, and the guards could barely believe it. The baton should have put him out for far longer, yet he was built like an ox.
“Fall in, now!”
He did as ordered. Two of the guards grabbed hold of the drowsy Nelson and dragged him behind as he was led away. It wasn’t the first time he’d been taken to the box, but he studied everything as he was led there, as if looking for some means of escape.
“You think you can get out?” asked the guard.
“It crossed my mind.”
“And if you could, where would you go? There’s nothing on this world but more cellblocks. This is a prison world, idiot. There’s nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Only way you get out of here is if you’re released. Not even death will get you off this piece of shit.”
“Yeah, I don’t have a choice to be here, what’s keeping you? You must like it,” quipped King.
The guard smashed his truncheon into his leg. It wasn’t even powered up. The sadistic man wanted him to feel the pain of the blunt force trauma. King’s leg buckled a little, but he stayed defiantly on his feet. He was prodded with the truncheon to go on and taken into a room with no windows and a low ceiling. There was one light in the middle of the ceiling, lighting eight small cells that had no bed, seat, or anything but a bucket in the corner. It smelt disgusting, old sweat and ur
ine mostly. As if it were intentionally left filthy to further punish those unfortunate enough to be sent there. They threw Nelson into one cell and pushed King into one opposite.
“You boys have fun,” said the guard sadistically. He pulled the cell doors shut and then left. The others laughed along with him before sealing the main door shut.
King limped over to the nearest wall, wincing as he lowered himself down. He was in a lot more pain than he’d let on, but he wouldn’t let the guards have the satisfaction of knowing it. Nelson coughed and spluttered as he fought to get to his feet, quicker than any man had a right to after the shock he’d received. He crawled to a wall and sat up right just as King had. That’s when they caught each other’s glance. There was bitterness between them that could seemingly not be undone. Yet both knew there was nothing to be done about it now. Trading words seemed pointless.
It’s going to be a long three weeks, King thought.
Only a few minutes had passed when the main door swung open once again. King couldn’t understand why. There was no reason for that door to open unless they had someone else to throw inside, but that didn’t happen often. He didn’t bother to get up and check. He’d have to get to the front bars of the cage to be able to see the door, as there were solid walls on either side of the small cell. He didn’t care that much. Yet he was soon drawn to the click of uniform shoes on the hard floor. Nothing like the utilitarian combat boots the guards wore. This had to be someone important.
The Warden?
A uniformed Marine officer strolled into view, a Colonel no less. He could barely believe what he was seeing. The officer held himself with grace and confidence. His uniform was in impeccable condition, not a single thing out of place. He was dressed like the sort who’d worked behind a desk his entire career, although there were fresh healing cuts on his face, and a look in his piercing eyes. The look that only a man who’d seen the horrors of war would know. King had met his sort before. He’d had some glimpse into it himself, but he was still a young man, who’d had his career cut well short. For a moment the Colonel stayed put and stared at him, weighing him up. King didn’t move. He was glad to be resting his legs, and he wasn’t going to snap to attention for anyone, no matter their rank, but he was at least curious.
“Lee King?”
“Come to bust my balls more?” King replied calmly.
It was the only reason he could think as to why a Marine officer would be visiting him. The Colonel took a deep breath and continued weighing him up.
“Oh, come on, spit it out,” snarled King.
“I’m not here regarding your sentence, or your previous service.”
The smirk faded from his face. His curiosity overcame him, and he listened carefully to what was coming next.
“I am Colonel Rossman, 43rd Native Infantry stationed on Rhamprox.”
“Sorry to hear that, Sir. I hear it’s a real hellhole.”
“Some might call it that, but I have come to appreciate it. Rhamprox is a frontier world, a very hostile and dangerous one at times. Resources are thin, and we have but few regular troops stationed there. Mutinous actions among the native troops in support of terrorist elements are getting out of hand. I need fighting men and women to return to Rhamprox and supress this rebellion.”
“And you want me? A convict who has been left here to rot?”
“Yes, you have something better to do with your time?”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. This shithole sucks, but at least nobody’s trying to kill me. Well, except that lump,” he said, gesturing towards Nelson who grimaced back.
“Why me, Colonel? You could have gone and found any fools out there in the blocks. Why come into the box?”
“Because I didn’t come looking for any Marine who’d follow me. I came for you.”
“Why me?”
The Colonel was keeping something back, and he wanted to know what it was and why.
“Look at me, Colonel. I have nothing left to live for. You can’t hurt me. You can’t shock me. Just give it to me straight. I see no good reason why you’d come here or why you’d want anything to do with me. I screwed up and I paid the price. A much higher price than I ever should. I was made a scapegoat for the media, and you know it. But it is what it is. Why the hell would you want me anywhere near your operation?”
Rossman sighed, thinking long and hard about his next words. He paced back and forth, clearly a confident man, and yet in this he was conflicted.
“Do you get much in the way of news here?”
“Not a thing, it’s not a privileged we’re allowed. We get re-education videos, and that’s about it.”
Rossman looked pained as though he didn’t agree with that treatment.
“What’s the last you heard of your cousin, Lieutenant Joey King?”
The Colonel finally had his attention, and he forced himself upright even through the pain.
“Only that he was doing well and looking for a posting off-world, why? What’s happened?”
“Joey King took a position in the 43rd on Rhamprox, a young and naïve officer, but also a deeply loyal and dedicated one. He was not on my staff long before mutiny struck the 43rd.”
Lee couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he waited patiently to hear the rest as his worst fears unfolded.
“Joey King died a hero. He saved me life, and for that I can never repay the favour. But I know you and he were close once. I may not be able to bring him back, but I can do the next best thing. I can take you from this cesspit. I can give you a chance to regain your honour and fight in his place.”
Lee was horrified.
“Dead? Last time I saw my cousin he was fresh-faced out of the Academy with a huge career ahead of him. Of all of us that signed up, family and a few friends, he was the best of us. The most intelligent, the most successful, he should have outlived us all.”
“I am sorry for your loss. If I could have foreseen the deadly actions that unfolded that day this could all have been prevented. We all make mistakes. I’ve read the reports of what led you to this place. I know the sort of man you are. You’re a hothead. You deserved to be disciplined for what you did, but not this. For I deserved no more than you for the mistakes I made. We can’t take back our mistakes, but we can own them. Come with me to Rhamprox, and fight with the honour your cousin showed in the face of evil.”
“Even if I said yes, how could you ever make that possible? Do you have any idea how long my sentence is?”
“I do. I cannot reduce your sentence. I can’t remove it or change any of that. However, under emergency conditions, I am authorised by the Corps to establish a Penal Company. Do you know what that is?”
“Convicts who serve as a Marine as part of their sentence?”
“That’s right. It would be unpaid service, and you will be closely monitored, but one month’s service in a conflict zone is worth one year of your sentence.”
“And you could do this for me? You know how infamous I’ve become for what put me in here?”
“A high-profile inmate like yourself? It’s pushing the boundaries of my powers. It could land me in hot water down the line, but the Empire won’t give me the Marines I need to get the job done, so I have to find them myself. Come with me to Rhamprox. You’ll either die, or live long enough to earn redemption, and prove to the world you are worthy of the name King. That name is known for two very different reasons right now, one a failure, the other a hero. Do you want to die here rotting in this box, or out there, like a Marine?”
It was a lot to take in, but the mention of Marine got his attention.
“A Marine is all I ever wanted to be,” he replied sternly.
The Colonel drew out a key from his pocket, slipped it into the lock, and prised open Lee’s cell, much to his surprise.
“I can’t make you a free man again, but I can give you the chance to do what a Marine was born to do. So, what will it be?”
He didn’t need to think for long. He winced in pa
in as he stepped forward and stretched out his aching leg before leaving the cell.
“Whatever happens, stay calm. Do not cause trouble on the way out.”
“You really aren’t supposed to be here, are you, Sir?”
“No, but so long as you keep your mouth shut, we’ll both get out of here on our own two feet.”
“Colonel,” a voice called out.
They both stopped. Nelson was on his feet and at the bars of his cell. He coughed to clear his throat as he recovered from the shock baton.
“What is it?”
“I want to fight. I want to fight for you in this Penal Company.”
“What makes you think I want you under my command?”
“Set me loose on an enemy and I’ll show you.”
Rossman looked to King for a second opinion, who looked to his bloodied adversary. The anger in Nelson’s eyes was gone. Replaced with sorrow and a pleading look as though he was ready to get down on his knees and beg.
“If it’s a blunt instrument you want, Nelson is the one. He’ll run right over anything you point him at.”
“And you trust him?”
“Hell, no, he’s in here, isn’t he?”
Rossman sighed, quickly thinking it over. They clearly didn’t have much time.
“If you screw me on this, it won’t be back behind bars, it’ll be a firing squad, do you hear me?”
“Yes, Sir,” he replied appreciatively.
Rossman opened the cell door. Nelson was still drowsy, but he didn’t hesitate to step out and join them. He looked a bit sheepish beside King. He nodded in appreciation for his support and looked humbled by it.
“Follow me and keep your mouths shut. I don’t care what the guards say or do next; you do not rise to the occasion. You do not respond. Don’t do anything to cause any trouble, or you may never get out of here, is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” they both replied firmly.
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