The Vanguard Emerges (Maraukian War Book 2)

by Michael Chatfield

  “He’ll be another forty minutes. He’s rushing over at best speed. He’s looking to try to get a drop-ship to take him most of the way and speed it up,” Sarah answered.

  “Looks like we can only hope that the legate in charge of the acceleration tubes gets his head out of his ass,” Ava said.

  ***

  Ortiz was greeted by a grim sight. The Phantoms were embroiled in hand-to-hand combat with the Maraukians. They were leaking Maraukians all over the place. The acceleration tubes of the Bellonas in support were now targeting the areas between the mergers, trying to stop more of them making it past.

  “Pullo! I want your people set up on the front line! Get fire onto those Maraukian fucks! The rest of you get working on the damn defenses! We need those trenches up and working! If the mergers pull back, they’re going to need something to pull back to!” Ortiz yelled. The troopers were already moving to carry out his orders.

  There was no room to pause here. They knew that the Maraukians were coming; if they didn’t get ready, then they’d be drowned out in the tide. Although the mergers could fight them hand-to-hand, there was no way that they would be able to do the same unless they, too, became mergers.

  Gear was pulled off the different vehicles they’d used.

  Pullo was yelling and directing all of his people into position. Heavy rail gun emplacements were set up, with half of the people on the front lines, laying down with their rifles, shooting the Maraukians that had made it past the merger lines.

  Snipers were working over the Maraukians that were advancing.

  The second half brought up the weapon emplacements. As the weapons were set up, they would man the guns and those who had been shooting moved back to grab more weaponry.

  Ortiz’s people got out the diggers that sliced through the ground, creating simplistic trenches that weren’t much more than lines in the dirt.

  Armorite fabbers were fed materials and followed behind, reinforcing the slits in the ground, turning them into true trenches.

  “As soon as the trenches are complete, start putting in weapon emplacements, Pullo. I want you to move your people back to man the trenches once they’re complete,” Ortiz said a few minutes after the two groups had got into the rhythm of things.

  “Understood,” Pullo said.

  “Good to have you.” Mark joined a channel with Ortiz.

  “We’re working to cover you and kill off any that make it past you. We’re building defenses as fast as possible. They’re not going to be all that good, but they’re better than nothing,” Ortiz said.

  “If we can’t get support from the acceleration tube park, then we’re going to have to use one of the area denial rounds, clear out these Maraukians to cover our retreat back to the defenses you’re putting up. We’ve got to be ready for the Maraukians’ charge that is bound to happen right afterward, though,” Mark warned.

  “You want me to make more trenches in-depth?” Ortiz asked.

  “Wouldn’t hurt. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to hold them here. Right fucking SNAFU,” Mark growled.

  “Seems that it’s the same no matter what military we’re serving in,” Ortiz joked.

  “Ain’t it just. Be ready for us to retreat at any time. We’re going to need your help suppressing these guys if we do. Don’t want to get shot in the ass as we’re pulling back.”

  “We’ll have you covered,” Ortiz promised. He didn’t have the abilities or the hardware of the mergers, but he would put everything on the line to make sure that they could support them and cover their retreat.

  Ortiz looked to the status of the building to their rear.

  The engineers were hard at work, erecting true defenses that would be able to hold the Maraukians at bay.

  It would take some three days for them to complete it all. It wouldn’t be the best defenses but they could look at improving it later on.

  “All right, ole buddy, ole pal, don’t think I forgot you. Let her rip.”

  “Yes, Mark!” Ortiz said with relish, already yelling orders before the channel was completely changed.

  “Fire at will, Leri. We might need extra for withdrawal, so keep some in the bays,” Mark said in a warning tone.

  “Understood.” The channel cut and half of the tanks fired.

  The line of troopers behind the Phantoms also opened up. The wall of fire they added was scary as they actually pushed back the Maraukians.

  “Cut the ROF. We need them to get in the valley a little bit to funnel them,” Mark said to the Phantoms and the troopers.

  The repulsors quickly dropped to a quarter of their original number and the Phantoms lessened their fire.

  “All right, pile it on again,” Mark said.

  It took only a few seconds for the Maraukians to make up the ground as they ran. Most of them fired their weapons one-handed so they could get five limbs to punch them forward at incredible speeds.

  Mark no longer had to aim, instead sweeping his arms back and forth, cutting into the advancing line. The silver streams of a fraction of the rounds burning off and becoming light slowed the progress of the Maraukians but couldn’t stop it.

  “Swords!” Mark said when the Maraukians were within ten feet. As if by magic, swords and melee weapons appeared in every Phantom’s hand.

  Mark merged, calling the demon inside him, losing the outside shell of compassion. He felt as if steel surged through his body; he bathed in the feeling of strength and the clarity of thought.

  He was a killer, a killer with a charging enemy that pulled their vibro-blades out, crying their battle cries.

  He let loose his own battle cry as he leapt out of the trench. His sword cut down four Maraukians in such tight quarters they could hardly get their blades to bear.

  Ava was at his side, her smaller and thinner blades striking Maraukians with such speed and certainty Maraukians didn’t know they were dead until they hit the ground. Mark’s blade was like a hot knife through butter, despite the strengthened bones of the Maraukians.

  He hit one Maraukian in the side with the flat of his blade. The offender, who had gotten its blade within his guard, was lifted off his feet and thrown into the swarming Maraukians eager to close with the Phantoms with a sickening crack of breaking bones.

  This was where Mark belonged, fighting sword and fist against a worthy enemy. He growled in satisfaction as Sarah pulled up information on the walls in a small screen on his HUD. He studied the numbers as she jacked up the strength of the suit. He put his fist through a Maraukian’s chest and his blade through three others, clearing a semi-circle around him, which filled as quickly as he’d killed the previous combatants.

  Blue blood covered his armor as he fought on. Ava had spun her swords up as a Maraukian whipped forward between the others, its blade going for her abdomen. Mark lurched, his own swords flashing as he took the blow in his shoulder. The vibro-blade bit deep. Mark gasped as it cut into his shoulder before Sarah cut off the nerves. On his back, he drove his gravity field-enhanced boots at the Maraukians, his boots aimed upward underneath their armored chests to smash on top of their vital organs and then negative gravity throwing them off. Mark used anti-grav on his back, throwing himself up to his feet again in a double-bladed slash that severed chests and abdomens in a swift flick that came back and decapitated any that had already moved into the others’ place.

  Another burning sensation filled his gut as he saw a vibro-blade. He dismembered the Maraukian to plant it there as he turned with now defiant rage and anger as Sarah again shut down his nerves and sent nanites to his wounds.

  He looked to his side where he’d been seconds before. Now Ava stood there, her blades sheathed in favor of her mono-wire with its attached dagger. She spun it so fast it looked to be a solid glistening disk around her as she threw it over her head and used her arms and legs to divert the motion without losing it into a different direction.

  “You going to pull that out?” Her voice sounded confident but Mark wasn’t buying
it for a second the way her sensors where pinging off his armor. He reached down, letting Sarah take over his hand to take it out slowly as he fought on with one sword. Ava stepped up, extending her mono-wire to catch any that Mark missed. She received a cut across her thigh, hissing on the comms as Mark threw the vibro-blade into the Maraukian that dared hurt one of his, throwing him back ten feet and impaling another Maraukian with the same blade.

  Mark threw himself into the fight again bodily. His blades exacted their damage as they sliced and cut Maraukians. He checked his readouts, looking at Dodger’s men, who were also in heavy fighting. Due to the smaller area they had to cover and the fact that their part of the wall near them had stationary weapons—which, for some reason, the wall on the secondary mountain line didn’t have—they were able to keep the Maraukians at a safe distance. They took out herd kings and commanders, driving the normals into a charging fury. A few of these charges had made it to Dodger’s forces, which he easily cut down.

  Mark couldn’t let any of those charges through, but with less people and in the way of support that wasn’t his own, he’d had to fight hand-to-hand to make sure that the Maraukians couldn’t hunch down, gather up speed, and charge the trooper and Bellona positions behind him.

  He settled down into a rhythm, half watching the battle in front of him. He knew he’d feel if he had to change anything about his fighting style; by the external sensors, he could feel around himself. He didn’t have to rely on his eyes to see the weak points in their guards, the vitals of their beating hearts and breathing sacks.

  Chapter 21

  Eastern Defensive Line 317

  Indalia, Otarvi System

  6/3555

  Yousef yelled in wordless frustration inside his helmet as he fired his rifle.

  The rounds seemed to be just absorbed into the Maraukian horde as they continued to charge the walls.

  His fire traversed from left to right, guiding the heavier and larger rail rounds from the machine gun he was manning.

  There were just too few weapons, he realized; with triple the firepower, they might be able to stop the charging horde of Maraukians, but with the current weapons they had it just wasn’t possible. Especially when the Maraukian herd kings and commanders picked out the individual systems and guided their herds onto target with their own blue-green balls of plasma or a rain of coil gun rounds.

  The forges were making stationary weapons as fast as they could but it was only enough to replace what they’d already lost.

  “Fuck. All right, run the guns off the AI network. We can shoot with our damned rifles—another soldier is more firepower,” He said over the command net, releasing his heavy rail gun as he unslung his own rifle. Augustus looked over at him, still firing. It was such a target-rich environment that he could hardly miss as he moved the muzzle of his M19 back and forth over the line.

  Yousef ground his teeth as he fired into the charging mass, being rewarded by a blue spray as his rounds hit the Maraukians. A burst dropped them to the ground with sudden finality. And stay the fuck down. He growled, imagining the fat chairman was in his sights.

  His HUD blinked red. Not a good sign. He pulled up the warning. The Maraukians had made it through the only breach not being held by mergers, the one on the right flank.

  “Support, I need fire on this location,” Yousef said to the support legate, punching the coordinates over to the man.

  “I am sorry but I cannot fire on these coordinates.”

  “WHY THE FUCK NOT!”

  “Do not take that tone with me. You too are a legate.” Obviously the man hadn’t read Yousef’s complete title.

  “I will not fire on targets that are within the danger zone, so close to our own troops.”

  “It won’t matter in a minute when they’re run over!”

  “I will NOT fire on our people.”

  “Those accel tubes are rated for mark-one Mars armor. I will give the grab cover order before you fire. Now fire upon those targets.”

  “I will not!” The man sounded like a petulant child as he shut the channel.

  Any attempt Yousef tried to get the man back on the line failed. He looked at the near units to the artilleries. His raging anger turned into a grim smile.

  “Mark, I need to borrow contubernium leader Miles and his people.”

  “Who? Oh, Evan? Whatever the fuck for? They’re nearly back with our LBMs.”

  “Get them to drop them off and go and deal with the artillery. They’re disagreeing with firing on the overrun position at the third breach on your right flank.”

  “All right, go for it. Get the fuck away from my tesserarius! Fucking Maraukian sack of blue-colored shit!” Mark’s voice rose even though he was just transmitting his thoughts.

  Yousef cut the channel. Those mergers don’t even know the difference of talking verbally and by the net. He shook his head at this thought. No, he was probably just doing that to get my goat. Doubt crept into his thoughts.

  “Contubernium leader Miles, this is Legate Yousef.”

  “Yes, sir,” the man’s calm, deep voice replied.

  “I need you to talk to the legate in charge of the artillery support. As well as get a fire mission on these coordinates.”

  “Yes, sir,” Evan said with a hungry growl.

  Yousef cut the channel as he had another one incoming. He could see a group breaking away from the Vanguard legion’s formation at the valley.

  “Mark?”

  “I’m sending Legate Jameston and his people your way. Point them in the right direction.”

  The man cut the channel before Yousef could say a thing. Shrugging, he fired out of the port he was next to as he surveyed the forces that had kept their positions.

  “If we make it out of this alive, Augustus, there will be a toll to pay by those who left us on the wall.”

  “I think the men will agree with that, sir.”

  “If a man leaves his post, he will be stricken from the ledger.”

  Augustus hissed. “They deserve no better.” Being struck from the ledger meant that one’s name was removed from the records as having served with the legion. To be placed back upon the list, one would have to re-enlist or reveal how they didn’t do a wrong. It was the equivalent of getting a letter with a white feather. It was a mark of cowardice in the face of the enemy and not completing one’s duty to their fellow legionnaires.

  As the message went out, the flow of people running away slowed and a few people who had run away returned to their places.

  “Legate Trimium.” Yousef called up the commander he’d placed on the far-right flank that extended into the sea.

  “Legate Yousef.”

  “I see things are quiet on your end.”

  “It seems the Maraukians sure do like to attack straight ahead, as normal. We’ve done nothing but sit here. Please, give my men something,” Legate Trimium begged.

  “I have just the thing. Detach three legions and they’ll be used to push back the Maraukians in the breach closest to you.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have them mobile in twenty minutes.”

  Yousef cut the channel as he watched the three legions move from their positions. With the lack of fighting happening on that flank and the fact it was held together by a commander worth his weight in osmium rounds assured him as he turned to the hell storm that was the breaches.

  “Sir, I believe we should move.”

  “Augustus?” Yousef said, acknowledging the man but his thoughts already focused on the information scrolling through his HUD as he coordinated the counterattack for the third breach.

  “I believe we should— Plasma cannon!”

  “Yes, they do have quite a…oughffff!” Yousef exclaimed as his second-in-command tackled him to the ground as a wave of plasma came through the firing port he’d been half firing out of.

  “Thank you, Augustus. Next time, could you resist landing on my plumbs?” Yousef said in a pained voice.

  “Sorry, sir—plumbs?” Re
alization dawned as the other man’s hands unconsciously covered his own privates as Yousef took a few seconds admiring the floor in a curled-up ball before manfully and slowly getting to his feet, still half bent over.

  “Fuck, that hurt,” Yousef said with feeling.

  “Yes, sir. I understand.” As only another fellow man could. His recovered rifle was low enough to cover his very own weak spot.

  ***

  “Mother fucker!” Evan swore in his helmet as he got the update from Yousef. The legate who was running the acceleration tube park was refusing to fire on the positions that the mergers were packing out as he was afraid that he would kill them.

  In his hesitation, he was making it impossible for the mergers to hold on.

  Right now, they were stuck between a rock and a hard place as they were fighting hand-to-hand, with no ability to disengage. It was only through the Bellonas and the troopers that were supporting them from behind that they were able to stop the Maraukians. However, it was clear that they wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever.

  The Maraukians were still pouring in. The Bellonas were running out of ammunition and the mergers were taking casualties already. With no way to retreat or pull back, many of them were dulling their own nerves and reactions so that they could continue fighting. There was simply no way to move to the rear and rest.

  “We’re changing our destination!” Evan said to the rest of his contubernium. All of them were carrying a mass of ammunition that was meant to resupply the mergers on the front lines.

  They received the recording of the message he had just got from Yousef, altering their trajectory toward the acceleration tube park.

  Evan’s anger reached new heights as he saw that there were only half of the acceleration tubes firing. The others were simply sitting there without a care.

  Evan came howling out of the sky. He smashed into the ground and nearly ripped the door off one of the shacks that were dotted around the acceleration tube park. From these shacks, the acceleration tubes were locked onto a target and fired, serving as a bridge to the frontline forces.