Sons of the Lion

by Jason Cordova

  The Veetanho laughed, his fur rippling at the image of an old, retired merc dying while trying to mate with his new spouse. It was dark but humorous, which summed up his own feelings toward the coming fight against the Mercenary Guild. While he knew they were going to get hammered at the hands of Peepo and her mercs, it brought him no small amount of joy knowing they were going to bloody her face.

  “How many missiles can you spare, Mister Donahue?” Thorpi asked.

  “How many do you need?”

  “All of them.”

  “It…could be arranged.”

  “How fast can you have them delivered?” Thorpi asked.

  “Tomorrow, if we’re going to miss the overhead satellite. Why?”

  “The sooner we get everything set up, the better.”

  “Oh, one last thing,” Donahue said as he smiled as the small Veetanho. “I found a way to upgrade the new CASPer we found for you…without permanently damaging the structural integrity.”

  * * *

  Kakata Korps HQ, Freeport of Monrovia, Liberia District, Earth

  “One more time, bass,” Sunshine insisted as the VR program ended. She was breathless and Zion knew the girl was exhausted, yet she continued to push herself harder. “I know I can do it right!”

  This was part of the problem, Zion realized as he stared at the slate in his hand. Sunshine could easily beat the program if he didn’t continue tweaking the difficulty to make it damn near impossible to defeat. Her aptitude for all things CASPer-related was downright frightening, and her grasp of the intricacies on how to run a squad was damn near implausible. If he didn’t have her results in his hand, he would have suspected someone had doctored them to make her results embarrass everyone else.

  As it was, he could barely believe what he was seeing. Zion had been well aware Sunshine had scored high enough on her VOWs that if the Four Horsemen had been around on Earth, they would have thrown a lot of money at her to try to recruit the young girl. No, you can’t keep calling her that, Zion mentally chided himself as he booted up another program. She’s legally an adult now. She’s not some girl. She’s a full-fledged merc.

  “Last one for the day, Sunshine,” Zion warned her as he checked the time. They’d been at it since midnight the night before, and Zion really needed to sleep if he was going to be in any shape for the next day’s workups. Samson and the rest of the Leopards were due back in about two days, so Zion had decided to use the urban environments around the older parts of Chocolate City to drill his men—and woman, he reminded himself—mercilessly. It would allow the 3rd Company to stay close enough to HQ should the inevitable occur sooner than Mulbah believed.

  “Which one, bass?” she asked him. Zion frowned and decided to leave the difficulty of the last simulation on normal. It was one of those which had been designed to mimic the ill-fated assault on Moloq by Bjorn’s Berserkers. The Berserkers had won, Zion knew, but the cost had been almost too bloody. Every single time someone else ran the simulation their casualty rate was upwards of 90%. Zion had no idea how Bjorn Tovesson III had managed to do it with a mere 33% casualty rate. The lawyer-turned-mercenary suspected some wizardry and more than a little bit of luck had come into play.

  “It’s a surprise,” Zion replied as he fired it up. “Just do the best you can, Sunshine.”

  “Got it, bass,” she exclaimed. “Gonna paint the sky with these fucks!”

  He couldn’t fault her enthusiasm; that much was certain. Still, he wondered just how she would react when she ended up losing the majority of her troops to the alien Jivool as the surprise reinforcement. Would she become morose and blame herself, or would she accuse him of cheating the system? There were many ways how this could play out, but he doubted any of them would be boring.

  Hearing footsteps behind him, Zion half-turned and spotted Mulbah approaching. Stifling a yawn, he gave a respectful nod to his boss. Mulbah was staring at the Mk 7 CASPer Sunshine was running the VR simulations in with interest. Zion smiled.

  “She’s been going at it for almost twelve hours now, Colonel,” Zion informed him in a quiet voice. “I’ve had to bump up the difficulties on all the scenarios to a rate where they almost crashed my slate. I didn’t think it was possible.”

  “She do the Bridge over River Kwai one yet?” Mulbah asked, referring to a no-win scenario he had designed himself the year before. One lone company of thirteen CASPers were to hold a bridge against a horde of Zuul mercenaries and not take more than 50% casualties. Mulbah was rather proud of the scenario, since it was a barometer of potential leadership for all who took it.

  “Smoked it,” Zion said as he looked back at his slate. “No KIAs, one WIA. Seriously kicked its ass.”

  “What?” Mulbah looked at Zion, shocked. “That’s impossible. Only one wounded?”

  “Yeah,” Zion nodded. “I thought it was a glitch and made her do it again. Same thing. I thought maybe she had hacked it. No cheating, so I watched the replay.”

  “And she met the objectives?” Mulbah pressed. Zion grinned, knowing his boss was not going to be happy at having his record smashed.

  “Well, not a single Zuul crossed the damn bridge, I’ll tell you that much,” Zion offered. Mulbah whistled.

  “Did she blow the bridge? That’d constitute a failure in the scenario.”

  “She blew part of the bridge,” Zion corrected. “Created a large enough hole that the Zuul had to come across three wide at most. The bridge was still useable by vehicles, though it was a one-lane pass.”

  “Damn,” Mulbah chuckled, impressed. “I didn’t think about that.”

  “That was when I decided I needed to bump up the difficulty levels for her,” Zion continued. Mulbah grunted.

  “What’s she doing now?”

  “The Moloq Massacre.”

  “Ouch,” Mulbah said. “You think she’s ready for it?”

  “I have no idea at this point, sir,” Zion admitted after a moment, his eyes tracking the data as it appeared on the screen. “But according to this, she’s running neck and neck with Bjorn himself right now.”

  “What?”

  “Of course, the Jivool reinforcements haven’t hit yet,” Zion added. “It’s going to be one hell of a surprise.”

  “I had another reason why I came down here instead of simply using the radio,” Mulbah said as he glanced over at Zion. “I didn’t want anyone listening in, just in case you weren’t in a suit. Frequencies have a strange habit of getting picked up by random young women inside their CASPer suits these days.”

  “Oh?” Zion asked. “I miss the days when it was just the five of us, like when we were helping the Kertoshii on…what was the alien planet’s name?”

  “I couldn’t pronounce it, but Bob the alien called it Hot Ball of Fiery Piss when I asked what it translated to,” Mulbah laughed. Zion joined in as he remembered the odd little alien blob thing. As the laughter died off, Mulbah sighed. “Simpler times, that’s for damn sure. Never got involved in politics. Just take contracts and go fight amongst the stars.”

  “Hey, boss, this is what you wanted,” Zion reminded him. “Remember? Liberia is one of—no, it is the wealthiest nation in western Africa now because of your work. The country had a democratic succession without bloodshed, and the population is growing. Our GDP is higher than it has ever been, and corruption is starting to go down. You, Mulbah, are the primary reason for this. You gave the country a chance, and it has responded in a way my parents could never have dreamed of.”

  “It’s weird,” Mulbah admitted. “I thought it would be different. I don’t know, maybe easier?”

  “Responsibility is a bitch, sir,” Zion declared in a firm voice.

  “Regardless, I’m here because I need to talk to you about Sunshine,” Mulbah stated as he looked back at the CASPer. “How good is she at staying quiet?”

  Zion laughed. “Sunshine? Quiet? Not what I would ever use to describe her.”

  “Let me phrase it differently,” Mulbah tried again. “You thin
k she could handle a function at the Executive Presidential Mansion?”

  “In or out of the CASPer?”

  “In, actually.”

  “Yes,” Zion said without hesitation. “Take her out and she’s…ah, Sunshine. Inside the suit she’s completely different. It’s difficult to explain, sir.”

  “Understands decorum in the CASPer; doesn’t give a damn when she’s not?”

  “Ah…not so difficult to explain, I guess,” Zion shrugged. “That’s pretty close.”

  The slate suddenly beeped, interrupting their conversation. Zion lifted it and looked at the screen. His eye didn’t quite bug out of his skull but it was a near thing. He shook his head and handed the slate over to Mulbah.

  “60%,” Mulbah muttered as he read it. “And that’s using our Mk 7s, not the Berserkers’ more advanced Mk 8s. Jesus.”

  “If she can do this in the field, I think you might have found your 4th Company commander when the time comes,” Zion suggested.

  “Okay, I’m switching her to the command squad,” Mulbah decided after a moment of thought. Zion opened his mouth to protest but Mulbah stopped him. “I already know what you’re going to say, but think it over for a second. If I bump her up to lieutenant and leave her in your squad, she’ll usurp Master Sergeant Nuhu and it could cause some minor issues, even if she becomes your XO. It’d make 3rd overpopulated as well, bringing you up to fourteen CASPers while 2nd still only has ten. There’s no way I’m sticking her with the Jackals. They’re too unorthodox and she would probably stick a knife into Karnga’s ribs the first time he tried to hit on her. If I put her over in 1st, Samson would probably try to quash her enthusiasm a little. Not on purpose, of course, but he’s not the happy-go-lucky merc. We don’t need that. If I promote her to lieutenant and put her in my squad, however, she won’t even be the XO because that’s nominally Thorpi’s job. Plus, I have a spot open after Corporal Adrazgo died during the New Ikoyi op.”

  “Yes, sir,” Zion agreed. Mulbah cocked his head and looked at the other merc.

  “Not happy with my decision?”

  “That’s not it, sir,” Zion said as he struggled to explain. “I’m more concerned about Sunshine, and how she’ll react.”

  “React to what?” a female voice asked from the CASPer. The two men looked and saw Sunshine had popped the cockpit open. “That last mission, bass? Fucking hard. You didn’t say Jivool were coming.”

  “You never asked,” Zion said, hiding a smile. “I need to get these sim runs looked at, Sunshine. The colonel wanted to ask you a few questions. I’ll talk to you later. Sir?”

  “Dismissed, Captain,” Mulbah said. “Good work.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Zion responded. “But she’s the one doing all the good work. I just monitor and report.”

  Sunshine blushed at the compliment and Mulbah noticed for the first time the young woman actually had freckles. He laughed softly and waited as Zion left the two alone before turning his attention on to the new recruit.

  “Zion told me how well you’re doing in the CASPer,” Mulbah said as a way to break the ice. It was the first time he’d actually spoken with the young woman since he had hired her on after her VOWs results had come in. It felt strange. “You might not have the field experience yet, but you definitely show potential. Do you think you could lead a group of men if called upon?”

  “Squad leader?” Her eyes lit up. Mulbah chuckled.

  “Think bigger.”

  “There’s nothing bigger, except…” her voice trailed off as her eyes widened. “No, bass, I can’t do it.”

  “You can’t command a company?” Mulbah asked, surprised. He waved the slate in his hand. “You were doing a very good job in the simulation.”

  “No, bass. I mean, I won’t replace one of the others as bass,” she clarified. Mulbah realized she had assumed he was talking about replacing one of his current commanders. His opinion of her went up a notch.

  “Your loyalty is admirable,” Mulbah observed. “But that’s not what I meant. Major Thorpi and I are hoping to stand up a fourth company in the coming year and we need a captain to command it. If this is something you might be interested in, I’d like to explore the possibility.”

  “Yes, bass!” she nearly shouted in excitement. “I want to fight! I want to show them boys how to fight back right!”

  “Before you do, though, you have to prove yourself,” Mulbah stated. “You’ll be assigned to the command squad and I’m promoting you to the temporary rank of lieutenant. You do well there and by the end of the year you’ll have the new unit I plan on creating. In the meantime, I have something else for you to do.”

  “Yes, bass?”

  “Have you ever been to the Executive Presidential Mansion?”

  * * *

  Kakata Korps Tertiary Zone, Freeport of Monrovia, Liberia District, Earth

  Antonious looked at the final positioning of the artillery piece and sighed. The 155mm Palmaria-Fiero piece had been one of fourteen which had been salvaged from the shattered ruins of the Nigerian Army after the Korps had assaulted New Ikoyi Prison. All had been damaged to one extent or another, and it had been the captain’s job to figure out which vehicles could be salvaged to be used in defense of Liberia. Considering almost every single piece had multiple holes punched through their thin armor, Antonious had whittled down the dozens of potentials to ones which actually looked as though they had not been made into Swiss cheese.

  Quick welds and some fresh paint covered most of the damage, and the Liberian recruits who had been embedded with the Korps were looking forward to using the massive artillery pieces. The Liberian Army had the US variant of the 155mm howitzer, but the opportunity to play with other equipment was something no military personnel every passed up. As irritating as it had been to move them, Antonious had enjoyed using the captured artillery pieces.

  Antonious shoved the last bit of camouflage atop the artillery’s main body, leaving only the barrel exposed. Painted red, it looked like a chimney smoke stack amidst the ruins of a run-down shack. Stepping back, he admired his handiwork.

  At ground level, it wouldn’t fool anybody, he determined as he walked around the ruined “house.” However, when viewed from above, he decided it would pass muster. The angle of the “chimney” was tilted enough to fool a combat shuttle’s scanners when they flew overhead, and the sheet metal piled on top of the armored carriage would mask the energy signature of the engine. It would only be after they fired the massive 155mm cannon that the ruse would end. Antonious predicted he would either be dead or victorious by then, so he wasn’t worried about it.

  “Jackal One, Six,” Antonious called out to his senior NCO. “Status?”

  “All set here, bass,” Oti replied. “First Squad just finished with the last of them.”

  “Copy, Oti,” Antonious said as he checked his Tri-V. He grunted. So far, so good, he thought. “Give them one last pass and make sure the army knows to stay away from them, then head back to the barn.”

  “Copy, Six. One, out.”

  Antonious missed Oti’s heavy accent. Speaking through the pinplants just made everyone sound so generic. He switched frequencies and pulled up Zion.

  “How’s guard duty?” he asked once the link was established.

  “This sucks,” Zion complained. “How the hell did you do this with only ten suits and not lose your damn mind?”

  “When the boys aren’t patrolling, I have them run combat sims,” Antonious laughed. “It helps pass the time and gets our scores up, menh.”

  “How’s the project coming along?” Zion asked, careful to not mention precisely what it was 2nd Company was working on. The manufacturer had guaranteed their comms were secure but nobody in the Korps was taking any chances, not these days. There was no telling just how good the Mercenary Guild’s technicians were. The Korps hadn’t even let the regular army in on their frequencies yet, something which bothered the generals in charge to no end.

  “All done here,” Antonio
us confirmed. “Heading back now.”

  “Copy, Jackal Six. Goshawk Six, out.”

  Antonious brought up the overview of city and marked off the position of the artillery sets. Thorpi insisted when the inevitable invasion occurred, the alien mercs would land just inside Monrovia and move to the capitol buildings to secure them. Another wave would hit the Korps’ HQ to decapitate the primary source of resistance. Mulbah agreed with the assessment and assigned Antonious and his company to handle it.

  As much as he wanted to discount Thorpi’s plan, it made a lot of sense. When the Mercenary Guild took Sao Paolo, they swooped in, hit the city with mercs, then took the SOGA HQ with almost zero casualties. The Liberian chuckled as he realized this time around there would be more than enough resistance for the guild to deal with.

  Satisfied, he brought up all the Jackals and saw he was the last one outside of the base gates. Moving quickly, he bounded toward the base to finish the final preparations.

  I don’t expect to survive this shit, he thought, but they’re gonna know who hit them.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Six

  SOGA HQ, Sao Paolo, Brazil

  General Peepo looked at the two mercenary leaders she had called to her office an hour before. Kitted out in armor and ready for battle, they were an imposing sight to any Human who might try to stand in their way. She approved of the duo standing before her.

  The Zuul was a magnificent example of its species, with black markings patterned across the creature’s muzzle contrasting sharply with the grey face. The rest of the Zuul’s body was decorated similarly, though Peepo could see the mercenary was not enjoying the wet winter of Brazil. Where they were bound next, however, the Zuul wouldn’t have to worry about winter at all. The mercenary would be happily miserable in the summer heat in Africa.