War Wolves: Boxset 1-3

by Jonathan Yanez

  A moment later, the mirror on Riot’s desk transitioned to a screen. General Armon was sitting at his desk. “Riot, good to see you. Doctor Miller has briefed me on your progress with the Grovothe and the confrontation with the Karnayers. You’ve done an excellent job on both fronts.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Riot said, thinking she really should be nicer to the doctor. “It was a team effort. I couldn’t have done it without the crew.”

  General Armon nodded along as if he expected Riot to say those exact words. Bags hung under his eyes. For the first time, Riot got a glance at the human part of the general. In the brief time she had known him, he had exhibited nothing but a strict no-nonsense front; he was strong and in control. What Riot saw on the screen now was a leader who was still very much all of these things, but exhausted at the same time.

  “We’ve received word from Captain Harlan on Hoydren,” General Armon said. “He’s been interrogating the Karnayer prisoner Remus with the help of the Trilords. Remus has given us information on the Karnayer technology you witnessed, as well as agreed to share information about the Karnayers’ larger scheme, in return for his freedom.”

  “Sir,” Riot said, taking the opportunity to speak up as soon as the general paused. “We’re going to make a deal with Remus and set him free?”

  “At this stage in the game, we need as much information as we can get,” General Armon said, looking off screen deep in thought. “Both from the prisoner and from our new allies. Find out as much as you can about everything you can. Doctor Miller will be doing the same.”

  “I understand, sir.” Riot cleared her throat. She winced as uneasy scenarios came to mind. There had to be something more, something they were missing. Remus wasn’t going to give in just like that. Not when he knew his brother was still out there.

  “Speak your mind, Riot,” the general said with a sharp edge in his tone. “You’re one of the few people who does around here.”

  “It’s just that the Karnayer we ran into today claimed to be Remus’s brother. Why would Remus give in so quickly, when he’s as loyal as they come and he knows his brother is still out here. He must realize he has a chance if his brother comes for him.”

  “I take your meaning. Still, we have to play the cards we’re given. I’ll double the Marines we have stationed on Hoydren. They, along with the Trilords there, should be more than enough to curb any rescue attempt.”

  “How’s the fleet on Earth?”

  “We have a dozen ships ready to fly.” General Armon grinned. “If anyone comes knocking, we’ll be ready. I’ll let you prepare your men for the joint attack with the Grovothe tomorrow. Remember your training Warrant Officer, and get your men back safe.”

  “Yes, sir,” Riot said, saluting over the screen.

  General Armon returned the salute before the screen winked off.

  At the moment, food, caffeine, and preparing her unit for combat the next day, in that order, were at the forefront of her mind.

  “Evonne,” Riot said as she rubbed tired eyes on her way out of her quarters. “Have the crew meet me in the armory in ten minutes.”

  “Right away,” Evonne answered. “Riot, if I may. Would this be an appropriate lull in the normal death and destruction we reign on alien planets to discuss the physical body Corporal Vetash has been constructing for me?”

  Riot rolled her eyes as she maneuvered through the ship’s interior on her way to the mess hall. A physical body for the AI had been a topic of discussion since Riot had first met her. Not only did Riot not understand SPEAR’s stance on such a topic, but she also didn’t know how she felt allowing the AI to inhabit a robotic body.

  I can’t just shoot down her request, even if she is a computer program, Riot thought. Neither can I give the thumbs-up for her to take on a robotic body. I’ve seen way too many movies where that goes bad.

  “The body question goes past my pay grade, Evonne.” Riot entered the mess hall to see Ketrick sitting at a table with heaping plates of food Riot didn’t recognize. He nodded to her, shoveling another forkful of what looked like purple meat into his mouth. “But I will have Doctor Miller send your request to the general. You have my word.”

  “That is more than enough for me.” Evonne sounded hopeful, if AIs could sound hopeful. “Thank you, Riot.”

  Riot could feel Ketrick’s eyes on her as she moved to one of the many stations built in the mess hall’s far wall that distributed food. A touch screen set above a square indent in the wall allowed the crew to select whatever nourishment or drink they desired. In seconds, the chow appeared in the hollow below it.

  “The Grovothe may be small, but they know how to eat,” Ketrick said from his seat on the bench. “I brought back some food from their own mess hall if you’d like some.”

  Riot turned around to see the plates of multicolored meats and mush. The aroma the food let off was like charred meat and mashed potatoes. Riot’s mouth started to salivate as she was reunited with familiar smells. Tonight wasn’t the best night to try out new foods. The last thing she needed was a case of the runs while she landed on Raydon the next day.

  “I’ll pass today.” Riot turned back to the display, ordering a large black coffee, a breakfast burrito, and a side of hash browns. “Gotta stick with the essentials. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  A moment later, the food appeared in front of her. “We need to meet the rest of the crew in the armory in a few minutes, so pack in what you can.”

  Riot took a seat opposite Ketrick on the bench and began devouring her food. Time was never on her side. Table manners were a thing of the past. The familiar taste of food she knew and loved felt heavenly as it slid down her throat and into her grateful stomach.

  “How are you holding up?” Ketrick asked, wiping his hands with a thick napkin. “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m fine.” Riot took a humongous bite from her breakfast burrito. Melted cheese mixed with eggs and sausage coated the inside of her mouth. “That was a one-time deal, I told you.”

  Riot was torn. On one hand, she appreciated Ketrick asking her how she was doing. He was the only one who had seen her relapse that night into her old habit of drowning her memories in alcohol. She understood he genuinely cared for her. On the other hand, he had witnessed a side of her Riot didn’t allow anyone to see.

  Not only had Ketrick seen Riot vulnerable, but he also knew why. Riot was struggling with herself when Ketrick spoke again.

  “When this is all done,” Ketrick said, softly pushing himself up from the table. “I’d like to court you.”

  Riot didn’t know what to say. Heat rose to her face and her heart doubled in speed. Instead of answering, she shoved the rest of the burrito into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged on either side of her face like a chipmunk at an all-you-can-eat nut buffet. Riot nodded along with Ketrick’s request. She gave him what grin she could.

  “You try and build yourself up as a merciless witty warrior that doesn’t have a soft spot.” Ketrick ignored Riot’s attempt at not answering him. He waited for her to finish chewing as he stood at the entrance to the mess hall. His large frame filled the doorway. “And you are all of those things, except you do have a side of you that you have locked away from the world. In time, I hope you will see you can trust me. You can be that self once more.”

  Riot swallowed hard, grabbing her coffee and heading for the door. Everything Ketrick was saying was true. Why was it so hard for her to talk about her past? She hated herself for being too afraid of who she once was; she just couldn’t bring herself to open up once more.

  “The Corps, and I’m sure SPEAR, has strict rules about—”

  “I am not part of the Corps, neither am I a member of SPEAR.” Ketrick moved aside for her to pass, but his red eyes never left her. “I’m not giving up on you, Riot. I don’t know if I could, even if I wanted to. Tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

  Riot was intent on heading past Ketrick to the armory for a weapons check with her unit, when Ketric
k’s last words stopped her in her tracks. She was right in front of him, sharing the space of the doorway.

  Looking up into his kind, wild eyes made Riot’s mouth go dry.

  Here’s a guy who really cares for you. A muscular, well-built, handsome warrior who’s showing his guts to you right now. Riot licked her lips, trying to come up with the words that were so hard to gather. You have to tell him the truth. He deserves that. He deserves whatever it is you can give him.

  “You’re … you’re not wrong about everything you’ve said,” Riot managed to say. “Gosh, I hate talking about my feelings. I’d rather fight a Scarab full of Karnayers on my own. I’m broken, Ketrick, but if you give me the time, I do want to see what a future with you could be like. No promises; my men and the mission need to come first.”

  “I’ll be here.” Ketrick took one of Riot’s hands in his own and lifted it to his lips. He planted a gentle kiss on her palm.

  “Holy cannelloni, what are you trying to do to me here?” Riot said, feeling weak in the knees. She lifted herself on her tiptoes, pulling Ketrick’s head down and planting a hard, hot kiss on his mouth. As soon as the moment happened, it ended. Riot pulled herself away and walked down the hall. “Sorry if it tastes like breakfast burrito. Come on, there’ll be plenty of time for that later. We have a mission to prepare for.”

  60

  Were you eating breakfast burrito?” Wang said, leaning in toward Ketrick with a sniff. “How did you even know to order that from the mess hall? They have breakfast burritos on Hoydren?”

  Ketrick’s eyes darted toward Riot. She gave a short, stern shake of her head.

  “Doesn’t every planet have their own version of a burrito breakfast?” Ketrick said, turning to Wang with a raise of his brow. “Burrito breakfasts are wondrous events on my planet.”

  “When you put it like that…” Wang shrugged and went back to work, cleaning his Villain Pulse Rifle. “It’s hard to argue.”

  Riot sat on one of the closed cases, preparing her own weapons for the next day. The armor for the crew was in a translucent case to the right of the armory. Four black-and-red uniforms stood upright, with lights shining down on them. A grey-and-black armored uniform was also set aside for Doctor Miller.

  Ketrick was adamant about only needing his gauntlets and a Kevlar vest on the battlefield. Riot would have been more persistent that he wear full gear, had it not been for the nanites they were all injected with.

  Wang had bioengineered the nanites left behind by the Syndicate to heal their wounds on a cellular level. As long as the injury did not kill them right away, the nanites they had been injected with would heal them in seconds. It had been tried, tested, and proven useful on more than one occasion already.

  The other four sides that made up the armory were stocked with rows of weapons ranging from Boomballs, to heavy rocket launchers and sniper rifles. Vet sat on the floor, dismantling his Longshot 1000. Rizzo was on his left, checking and rechecking his Vulcan SP101 that was a mini-gun more than anything else.

  Rock music played in the background, courtesy of Vet and Evonne. The familiar tunes listened to so many times before made Riot forget where they were and what they were about to do the next morning.

  “Do we have any idea of what the plan for tomorrow looks like?” Vet said, looking up at Riot. “You know I’m ready to go wherever, whenever you need me. I’m just curious.”

  “We’re heading out at dawn after the Dreadnaught pounds the Zenoth hives with long-range fire,” Riot said, placing her Pulse Rifle beside her and beginning to clean her secondary weapon, her Cannon FP 290. “They expect the Zenoth will find shelter in their hives, but maybe they can get a few hundred before they can take shelter.”

  Why are people always attacking at dawn? Rizzo signed, shaking his head as he put down the Vulcan and walked to his armor. He began inspecting every inch of his protection from the helmet to the boots. In every movie, in every book.

  “Huh,” Riot grunted. “I was wondering the same thing. I—”

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  Everyone in the armory stopped what they were doing and looked to Riot for direction. The embedded instinct to run toward the sound of conflict itched in every Marine in the room. Vet held his sniper rifle close, while Rizzo and Wang actually took a step toward the door.

  “Easy,” Riot said, standing up from her seated position on the weapons crate. “The Dreadnaught has started firing on the Zenoth. Let’s go take a look.”

  The constant booming in the distance echoed into the Valkyrie as Riot and her crew made their way through the craft and down the cargo bay ramp. Exiting into the hangar showed Riot she wasn’t the only one interested in seeing the fireworks.

  The work in the Dreadnaught’s hangar had ceased for the time being. The Grovothe engineers who had been a flurry of activity repairing ships were all lined up against the force field that separated the Dreadnaught hangar bay from the cold dark that space promised.

  Riot found a place next to Rippa, who nodded at her as she approached. “It’s a deadly beauty the Dreadnaught brings. They’re softening the Zenoth hives for us now, but we’ll have more than our hands full when we arrive in the morning. Our weapons can only penetrate so far. The Zenoth hives go deep.”

  Riot heard and understood all of these words as she nodded along. Her eyes never left the scene in front of her. On the other side of the protective force field, Riot had a bird’s eye view of planet Raydon.

  The Dreadnaught had traveled close, so close now, Riot wondered how they weren’t being pulled into the planet’s atmosphere yet. Blue bolts of energy, as well as massive rockets, were being hurled at the planet below.

  The reddish cream texture of Raydon exploded in smoke and dust as the first explosions rocked the planet below. A mushroom cloud that looked like the size of Riot’s thumb erupted a moment later.

  “It’s hard to believe much can live through that,” Vet breathed. “You Grovothe don’t mess around.”

  “We do not. But be that as it may, there will still be thousands of Zenoth protecting the hive when we land.” Rippa motioned to the far side of the hangar, where four giant suits of armor stood against the wall. “If it weren’t for the mechs, we wouldn’t have a chance of close-range combat.”

  Riot followed Rippa’s gaze to the far end of the hangar. What she saw shocked her. Four twenty-foot tall robotic suits stood ready. They looked like walking tanks, with two thick armored legs and arms sprouting from the center. An intimidating helmet looked out onto the hangar bay with judgment in its eyes.

  “Holy nachos, and the almighty Taco Bell.” Wang breathed hard as if he were hyperventilating. “Are those what I think they are?”

  “Mechs,” Vet whispered, answering his comrade’s question. “We’re going to get mechs?”

  “Easy there,” Rippa said, pushing past Riot’s unit. She waved them to walk alongside her. “Learning to pilot a mech of this size takes years of dedicated practice and discipline. Even if you humans could master this type of mech, you’d need a very long time to practice. These are Juggernaut class mechs that are piloted by my unit and myself—the Spartans.”

  “Spartans? Like… on Earth?”

  “Actually,” Rippa laughed, “the way I understand it, the ones on Earth took it from us when our ancestors were called down to train them.”

  Riot was having yet another moment where she was listening and understanding everything Rippa was saying, yet her eyes never left the twenty-foot armored mech units standing in front of them.

  As they got closer, Riot saw there were already three other Grovothe checking and inspecting the armored units. The shorter race of aliens used powered lifts to move up and down the height of their battle suits.

  The smell of oil and grease assailed Riot’s nostrils as the constant booming of the Dreadnaught’s guns drifted in the background.

  “This is my unit,” Rippa said, motioning forward to the three Grovothe who were coming down from their lifts to greet t
he newcomers. “Brimley, Atlas, and Ragnar.”

  “Hello,” Brimley said, nodding to Riot and her team.

  Atlas gave them a suspicious stare, but nodded, as well.

  “Wow, this is going to be just the best.” Ragnar hopped off his lift and went around shaking everyone’s hands. He stopped when he came to Ketrick. “Is it true, giant?”

  “Is what true?” Ketrick asked, trying to free his hand from the much smaller Grovothe’s grip.

  “Do you have a space serpent with you at your command?”

  Ketrick finally pulled his hand free. “I do. Her name is Vikta.”

  “Oh, my lucky stars.” Ragnar ran a hand through his short, dark Mohawk. “We’re riding into battle with humans, a giant Trilord, and a space serpent!”

  “Control yourself,” Rippa commanded her soldier. “How do the mechs look?”

  “All checked out and in working order.” Brimley reached down and grabbed a checklist clamped to a folder on the ground. “We’re reloaded and fuel is stocked.”

  “So the four of you are going to be in your mechs when we assault the Zenoth hive tomorrow, and we’ll be in what?” Riot asked, glancing up once more at the giant bodies of armor. She couldn’t remember seeing anything more intimidating. Okay, one thing more intimidating: a charging dragon.

  “We’ll lead the assault,” Rippa said, lifting her eyes from the report in Brimley’s hands. “You’ll be our backup. Will the human armor you brought with you not suffice?”

  “Oh, we’ll be just fine,” Riot said.

  Wang, Rizzo, and Vet were all walking around the mechs, having all their questions answered by a very talkative Ragnar.

  “Is there a problem, giant?” Rippa said as she looked over to a scowling Ketrick. “Do our weapons not fit to your liking?”

  “No, no, it’s fine … I guess,” Ketrick said, shrugging. He coughed into his right hand, “If you’re too afraid to fight with your own hands and feet.”

  “What did you just say?” Rippa’s head swung up so fast, Riot thought she would have whiplash for sure. “Don’t hide your words, giant.”