The Tenth Awakens (Maraukian War Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

  Mark was the last of his contubernium to enter, checking everyone was there. He sat in the harness, which fit awkwardly over his armor. Grav lifts pulled the crate into the air, slotting it into place between catwalks made to deploy the legionnaires in seconds. Clicks sounded as power and data feeds were connected to the crate, taking the suits off internal power and charging them if needed.

  “Guns online. Switching feed,” Fredrick commed as he took over his contubernium’s remote guns on the Badger’s armor, still up in the air and supported by massive hydraulics wider than Mark was tall.

  “Same here,” Hailey said as she took another.

  That sorted, Mark changed his view to the hangar’s remote sensors, looking at the Bellona rotating their guns. The Bellona power plants came alive one by one, as the Badger’s blast shields closed and sealed. The gunners in the crates checked their arcs and confirmed channels with their close support.

  “This is Legatus Pullo. Give ’em hell.”

  The legionnaires added their guttural grunts to the noise in response as the doors opened to the hell beyond. Artillery which had been pounding the Maraukians had turned the sand to a blue-black glass covered hell. The Bellona cruised out of the hangar into the hellish display. The Badger’s sixteen two-story wheels left the cermite floors of the hangar and hit the sand, racing after the Bellona.

  Mark changed to the Badger’s sensors. Drop-ships, ships used to transport two centuriae of legionnaires usually from a ship to the surface of a planet, were spat out of the camp’s main dome. Heat and dust waves haloed the magnetic launching rails as they departed the drop-ship’s turrets, searching for targets as soon as they were free of the dome. Their rail guns and auto-launchers added to the scene of destruction outside the camp.

  Mark rocked with the Badger as it drove through the hell, crushing sand dunes and racing behind the Bellona tanks. Every weapon quested for the sign of a Maraukian and mercilessly cut them down when they were found.

  The Bellona and Badgers broke into groups, speeding off for their objectives as the drop-ships turned for their reserve positions.

  Information pinged back from forward observers deployed in the mountains around Crisidium with high-powered stealth rail guns, ready to drop the hammer when the rest of Camp Epsilon’s legionnaires caught up with them. They used stealth systems to get a view of the battlefield from the mountains around Crisidium, throwing all of the raw data back at the legionnaires.

  Sarah sorted through the data, spitting out a clear image to Mark and his contubernium, which he bounced to Michales.

  Crisidium lay nestled along a mountainous shoreline of a massive river, creating three sides the Maraukians couldn’t assault from for the lack of their fieldwork skills. This left them only the main entrance into the city-state. The wall and the city had been covered in armorite and stretched hundreds of feet into the air to encapsulate everything. It was a massive feat but it had worked and provided the city with air cover and a wall.

  Accelerator tube batteries fired from the armorite covering rained down hell upon the Maraukian swarm, which was a sea of gray, blue, and glinting weaponry. Batteries would stop firing, sinking back into the dome as others protruded and began firing in order to conserve their limited ammunition.

  Mark zoomed out of the city-state to the dried-up riverbed thirty kilometers back. It had once been a raging river but it’d been blocked off by an unlucky Maraukian assault barge diverting the river. He saw the Bellona taking position along the bank; trucks specially made to reload on the move attached to the armored rears. The Badgers took up position beside the dominating Bellona, all of them just hidden by the side of the river.

  “Ten seconds till ramp down.”

  Mark plotted positions with interlocking fire for his contubernium. As the countdown finished, he punched his harness, accidentally breaking it, but it didn’t matter. He walked out of the ruins of the harness, running with the tide as explosive bolts released the ramps. Legionnaires rushed down them to their assigned positions. Mark checked all twenty of the men were in place. A rush of combat hormones flooded his system as he climbed just under the bank. Miraculously, no one fired as they waited for the timer on their HUDs to crawl down.

  A feral grin split Mark’s face as it reached zero. The Badgers and Bellona pushed forward so their weapons were visible. Their weapons bellowed as the legionnaires fired across the front of the Maraukians, dissolving the unaware rearguard.

  The barrels under Mark’s forearms rose up; he grabbed the trigger mechanism, locking with the main unit on his forearm. He pulled the trigger as the assembly turned so the barrel was on top and unleashed twin streams of silver. The weapon fired one-millimeter rounds traveling at a high fraction of C, turning Maraukians into a hydrostatic bomb.

  The Badgers dropped back, unable to take any concentrated fire. Support fired into the ground, securing the transport as accelerator tubes extended from their armor, raining down 480-millimeter shells.

  Sarah careted commanders; Mark changed his targets, using the mass of fire to hide his position. Though the silver streams created by the osmium burning up were clear as day. Any counterattack was thrown in disarray as hyper-aggressive Maraukians wildly charged and fired at the legionnaires. The commanders took a few minutes to understand what was happening; thousands of Maraukians died as they pulled themselves together. But such a loss was a small drop in the bucket compared to the million-strong force.

  Legionnaires stayed in cover, shooting overhead and using their remote sights. Mark sat down, keeping his forearms above the top of the riverbank and tapping into the sensors on his fists and guns. Sarah scanned through information channels ranging from the direct feeds from the suits’ sensors to the sensor arrays in Crisidium.

  The map updated, showing Maraukians through more than half of the cut-off corridors and slicing through more quickly. The defenders were on their last legs; training and the will to defend their families were the only things that had kept them going this long and they needed reinforcements soon.

  The legion might be cutting down thousands of Maraukians in minutes but there were hundreds of thousands of them and they could soak up the casualties while pressing against the already defeated defenders and leak into the city.

  “Michales, we need to get reinforcements into Crisidium.” Mark looked around the map, searching for what he needed.

  “I know but we aren’t able to.”

  “I have a plan but I don’t know if you’ll like it.” He flashed the plan to him.

  “I don’t like it, but it just might work. Get back to you.”

  Sarah used the Pluto-powered armor’s anti-grav systems to pick up the high-density blocks that fed the M20 forearm-mounted weapon systems, giving Mark a continuous stream as he waited.

  “It’s been approved.” Michales then switched to the general channel. “All right, we’re changing position; we’ll be providing reinforcements along with the Ape Killers on the ground for Crisidium. The 38th Hammers and the 19th Bones will be dropping in from the reserve. Fourth contubernium, take the lead.”

  Mark opened the fourth contubernium’s communications net. “Prepare to move in five. Grab as much ammunition as you can. Heavy support, coordinate hand-off.”

  Chapter 15

  Drop-ship 192

  Tricticus, Emarl system

  6/3351

  “This is insane.” Drop-ship pilot Miles Julian had done some crazy shit in his time—hell, he liked to do crazy shit—but this was bat-shit crazy. Though it was also the legion. So he dialed up his engines, gunning the forty-thousand-ton drop-ship just a thousand meters from the ground.

  “So you’ve said.” George Alexakis checked the map’s readouts and the ejection tubes for the suits.

  “Though it’s gonna be a damn interesting sight to see.” Julian was unable to hide his grin as Alexakis shook his head.

  Chapter 16

  Crisidium

  Tricticus, Emarl system

  6/3351<
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  “Sir! I have the legion requesting we open the overhead over the playing fields!”

  “What?” Captain Malelli yelled as his NIAI pulled up the information. “Shit shit shit! Open the overhead and clear the area immediately!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Captain Malelli watched as a drop-ship came over the mountains that encircled Crisidium. It turned as it cleared the mountains so it was sideways; its drop hatches faced Crisidium and spit hundreds of objects through the air and into the overhead into Crisidium’s playing fields.

  “Close the overhead and get someone to look after those supplies. Tell General Gelall he has reinforcements.”

  “Show of force. Give that drop-ship cover!” the fire support officer said. Accel tubes and turrets opened up on the groups which fired at the drop-ship, which was banking down the back of the mountains to get out of the line of fire.

  Plasma bolts from herd commanders hit the drop-ship, heating its armor before covers across Crisidium disappeared. Accelerator tubes and weapon systems sprouted across the surface, putting use to the ammunition the drop-ship had spat inside its walls and hammering back at the herd commanders and normals, seeking out those who tried to shoot at the drop-ship and cutting them down.

  ***

  “WOO HOOO! That was fucking INSANE!” Miles Julian whooped as he pulled the drop-ship back under the cover of the mountains. He pushed the engines in the red as he powered out of his banking maneuver and away from Crisidium, using the mountains as cover.

  His past doubts were forgotten in the ride of adrenaline that brought him and the remaining crew around the mountains toward some much-needed repairs after being shot up by so many coilguns and plasma bolts, no matter the cover fire Crisidium had given them.

  ***

  Clink clink clink. A knock from the harbor door sounded out as Commander Taesili ripped his eyes from the feed of a drop-ship—basically a brick in the sky—being piloted as if it were an Ares fighter.

  “The hell?” he asked no one in particular. He changed the feed to outside to the sight of three legionnaires in front of the massive harbor door.

  “Open the door. Looks like we have guests but I don’t know what three people are going to do,” he broadcasted to his squad.

  They opened the door slightly to admit the three.

  “You’re going to need to open it more. You didn’t think just us three are going to stop the horde at your door, did you?” The lead man, with the rank of centurion on his breast, walked in as the harbor water stirred and then bubbled and frothed as suits walked out of its murky depth. Ranks of legionnaires walked out in organized lines, their bodies covered in ammunition and spare weapons. As they rose from the sea, they flicked their barrels to remove any water in them.

  It was a sight to see: over three hundred legionnaires appeared from nothing; water fell off them as they moved past Taesili.

  Then, a towering black suit, clearly out of place, rose out from the murky depths, looking like an old bumpy frag grenade with two legs with all of the ammunition on him. Water sluiced off its armor, which seemed to have a deep-purple haze around it as it walked out of the water and through the harbor doors Taesili’s men were now frantically opening wider as more and more legionnaires walked from the frothing harbor waters.

  “Captain Malelli, you aren’t going to believe this...” Taesili said over his command net.

  Chapter 17

  Crisidium

  Tricticus, Emarl system

  6/3351

  After a few minutes of furious discussion, Mark was on the move again with the Death Dealers as they went to reinforce the Crisidium army where it had been pushed back from the wall. They broke up into lines. Mark checked everyone was still with him, slowing the pace as they came to the corridor they were supposed to clear. Each corridor was broken up with blast doors that Maraukians had to fight through to get to the next. They were the only way from the main wall to the center of Crisidium and they were abattoirs, made to inflict as many casualties as possible with remote weapon systems and blow-out panels that cut everything down inside of them with shrapnel. The Maraukians had made their way through half or more of these killing areas in the corridors and were only getting faster.

  “All right, fourth contubernium shield wall, up!” Silently, with deadly precision, eight of the fourth contubernium pulled their shields made from the same material as Mark’s armor. They interlocked them together, with four low, four tilted high, as the rest of the contubernium slotted into the positions behind them. Xers and Dominik greened up, showing they were ready as they moved forward to the corridor they were to clear.

  Sarah shut the blast door behind them as they walked to the last door where the Maraukians and the last of the defenders were waiting. Mark connected to the officer in charge of the men in the corridor ahead.

  “When I say make a hole, push your people against the damned walls or we’re gonna be climbing over them.”

  “I... yes got it,” the obviously drained commander said while Mark had Sarah confirm; he passed it onto his men.

  “Shield wall, double pace.”

  Everyone moved forward without even a shiver in the shields as they followed his instructions.

  “Light jog,” he ordered as the blast door opened and not one legionnaire faulted as they kept running.

  “Move out of the way!” Mark said to the officer. “Shield wall, sides turn in and then out when we’re passed them!”

  The shield wall surged forward as the Crisidium troops clung to the walls, doing as Mark said.

  “Halt when we hit the enemy. Fire as targets bear.” Mark’s M20s cycled up so they were above his forearm. Using the sensors built in, he held his arms above the shields and fired into the mass of Maraukians ahead of the shield wall. There wasn’t any way he could miss at this range.

  The Crisidium troops had miraculously all made it to the sides of the corridor—at least those who had survived this far—as the legionnaires ran in like a battering ram, using their momentum to stun the Maraukians. Mark had put Dominik in charge of the second line directly behind the shield wall, giving him control of the swordsmen. Swords flashed between the shields as they opened, slashing Maraukians, while those in the third and fourth fired through the second-tier shields with special gun slots or around the sides, sending silver streams into the concentrated Maraukian mass.

  “Get your men back to the collection point. We’ve got this now,” Mark said to the bone-weary officer who still hadn’t moved his troops.

  The officer didn’t need to be told twice, taking his wounded—which was nearly every man under his command. They dragged, hopped and walked in a daze through the blast door behind Mark’s line, which closed and sealed Mark and his contubernium in with the Maraukians.

  “Third line focus on the herd commanders.” Mark ordered.

  The Maraukians’ drive and the close quarters worked for the legionnaires, creating a perfect bloodbath. They were cutting down their rate of fire to stop wasting ammunition as they moved forward. Only so many Maraukians could attack through the narrow hallways. In the beginning, they’d been able to hit the shield wall, but the force of fire cut the Maraukians down as if a hose against a sand sculpture.

  “Move. Decanus, monitor pace. We’ve got them reeling—keep up the pressure.”

  Usually the point defenses in the walls would deal with the Maraukians or at least provide some relief, though the ones in Crisidium hadn’t been installed or even made before the Maraukians had landed. So everything had to be done the hard way: with sword, shield, and rail guns.

  Mark selected a sixty-millimeter flechette. Nanites on the base of his boots dug into the floor, securing him to the ground, as he fired what would be classed as a medium vehicle turret. Each shot shook his entire frame and made his audio sensors automatically deaden the noise as the dual cones of fire cleared down the corridor. The high-density flechettes tore anything they touched to a bloody mess.

  “Advance
double time!”

  The shield wall moved forward as Mark reloaded. The ten seconds of hellish fire had drained whatever ammunition he had left. Reloading was as simple as moving his arms back, having Sarah line up the well with the block, and slapping them into place, then let the forearm rotate and repeat the process. Mark tapped the charging buttons with his thumbs. He chose fragmentation rounds at fifty millimeters, which the nanites happily formed as they continued through two more corridors. Mark let his legionnaires kill the Maraukians left in the remaining corridors until they came to the mouth of the corridor, to where the Maraukians breached the exterior wall.

  Mark planted his feet, adding his M20s to the fire and dropping grenades from fifty meters ahead to two hundred and fifty where the wall was filled with an angry and violent sea of Maraukians. Mark felt the old feeling of fear.

  In combat, everyone’s scared—no more and no less than those to their right and left. People’s responses to fear are as different as they are; some people shut down, some crack jokes and some get really, really angry.

  Mark’s anger tripped his merge. Along his armor, seams formed and molded together.

  It looked like a thousand small sparks, each one a smart round with an anti-matter droplet. They shredded anything hostile to Mark’s front.

  “The Crisidium army has assembled the heavy rail guns. Use your shield walls to give them armor and close in defense and use them to move forward,” Centurion Michales said as Sarah showed icons for the guns moving on Mark’s HUD.

  “Dominik, you got space in that wall?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Be ready for the heavies.” Mark came out of the merge. The autocannons and launchers retreated back into his armor as if they were never there. In the few seconds they’d fired, they’d depleted more than half of his remaining ammunition, actually eating the ammunition blocks on his body.