The Tenth Awakens (Maraukian War Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

The tanks replied with their cannons, causing their entire bulks to shift. Dust clouds rose around them. A wall of flechettes ended in the predicted blue bloodbath, thousands being cut down in their first volley.

  “Phantoms.”

  The walls came alight with silver fire as M20s opened up. The Maraukians drove into the now cleared area in front of them, charging to reach their unseen enemy.

  “EMF, 125th, 354th.”

  Heads appeared in the rubble in front of the Bellona and barrels as heavy emplaced machine guns came online, the electric whine of the EMF’s repulsors, a box-fed chemical backed weapon able to spit rounds at a terrifying 100,000 rounds per minute.

  Mark grinned at the sheer firepower.

  “EMF, regulate repulsors. Phantoms, pull back.”

  The repulsors changed to their lowest settings, combing the area as Phantoms pulled back and blocked their exits, changing their vantage points.

  A legionnaire’s round pierced the power containment module of an overeager herd commander, making a two-hundred-meter crater.

  “The fuck are these things?” the warrant said. “They’re still pressing on.”

  “It’s complicated,” Mark replied. “Bellona?”

  “Ready on you, sir.”

  “All right. Cease fire. Lower weapons.”

  The EMF and legionnaires dropped as fast as possible. The Maraukians pressed forward, commanders dropping to the rear. Their herds’ elites rushed ahead of them as they raced up what had been a tower toward the forces.

  “Clear and ready on, Bellona.”

  “Let them have it, boys.”

  “Chyna, Jarek—ready?”

  “You bet. They’re all inside the kill zone.”

  “Hold them in it.”

  The Bellona blast zone, now cleared of troops, fired again, this time its defense turrets coming online too as auto-mortars, heavy rail guns, and lasers fired into the Maraukians. In one second, they were within a hundred meters of the crest of the created hill; the next, everything was cleared for half a kilometer—pock marks on the ground and the walls marking where power modules had given way, their explosions background noise to the Bellona.

  The Bellona fired their second and third rounds, clearing to the bend in the kill zone. The Maraukians behind the bend did not know what to expect till they came around the corner, dying as fast as they came, legionnaire sharpshooters or the Bellona killing them.

  “Jarek, Chyna—move in.”

  Jarek and Chyna jumped over the walls on opposite sides of the kilometer-wide kill zone. Their contuberniums lined behind them as they turned the corner; the contuberniums linking together as they created a line of fire and walked forward into the stunned Maraukians. They recovered from the stun, turning their forces being torn between charging into the unknown threat or into the walking death.

  Mark wished he was with his people as they walked forward into what was truly a valley of death.

  “Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil as I am the baddest mother fucker in the valley,” Mark said, remembering an old mantra from an old Earth military that had transformed into the EMF landing forces.

  “Dig in!” Chyna dropped a cratering charge in front of him. Across the line, they did the same as dirt was thrown into the sky, creating holes deep enough for a Phantom to duck under. They jumped in them; two suits were unlucky, catching rounds. The now dense mass of the Maraukians pressed toward them in more numbers than they could kill.

  Wendel, the damned fireplug, changed to anti-matter rounds and covered the entire line. Exhausting his blocks, he ran and grabbed the only survivor of the two and threw them into the closest hole. The Phantom in it caught them, the recipient of their impromptu toss unknowing as the suit set to repairing the damage of the plasma bolt that had come too close and caused third degree burns across their body and a huge loss of nanites and armor.

  Wendel pivoted as he threw the injured suit and jumped back into his crater. “Fucking hell!!”

  “Well, Wendel, you really used your head for this one,” Jarek said as Mark cut to his sensor feed and saw two legs sticking out of Wendel’s crater.

  “Will you hurry up and kill the bastards? This is not the most comfortable position.” Wendel’s legs retracted in the hole as he tried to turn around in the tight space with limited success.

  “Nothing but whining. Good job, though, Wendel.”

  “Thanks, Jarek.”

  “Bellona Two, load AD.”

  “Loaded,” the reply came. A few seconds later, the tribarrel elevated. “On target.”

  “Phantoms, get down. Fire.”

  The Phantoms ducked as the Bellona bucked. The anti-matter area denial weapon had the adjustable payload of a quarter pound to five. They were firing a half pound, the same amount of anti-matter that powered the Pluto-powered armor.

  The shell lifted up, disappearing as the Phantoms dug like mad in their craters to bury themselves. The shell returned to the earth, exploding above the Maraukians. The road-turned-kill-zone funneled the explosion; it killed everything within the first three kilometers. The blast front smashed others against the walls of the kill zone and the thermal wave killed anything that wasn’t dead already. Not even a cockroach could’ve survived in the kill zone as it was superheated.

  “Clean explosion. All right, get back here, Phantoms.”

  Chyna and Jarek pulled themselves from the glassy ground, an effect of the miniature sun exploding a few hundred meters above their heads.

  All of them saw Leigh’s suit. Other than having a multitude of deep scratches, the five holes that had ended the user’s life and losing a centimeter and a half of armor, it was relatively untouched, speaking to its design. That was all forgotten as the Phantoms gathered around it.

  “Rest, Leigh. Your honor guard will follow you shortly.” Jarek initiated the return protocol. The suit dropped any extra ammunition; the NIAIs divvied it up and used their anti-grav to attach it to their users. They were oblivious as they watched the suit floating into the air, slowly taking off for the closest departure point. The Phantoms raised their M20s into the air, firing off a round in the air before turning back to the city, running through the very kill zone millions of Maraukians had lost their lives in.

  ***

  “Legate Sextilius.” Mark had finally found his chain of command. “The city of Remorse is cleared. Phantoms awaiting new mission.”

  “Look here, Centurion, just because you pushed off a wave of Maraukians doesn’t mean your city is fine.”

  “We cleared it before the third wave of Maraukians attacked. We have support from EMF forces here—a company’s worth—and our position has too many people for it.”

  “Centurion, as much as I appreciate your judgment, there isn’t much your centuria can do at this time.”

  “Legate, were you informed we are an assault centuria?” Mark put emphasis on the assault.

  “Assault centuria? We don’t have assault…”

  “If I may, I think there was a miscommunication. Please look up the 182nd Centuria, Phantom Lords.”

  The net was quiet for a few seconds.

  “I thought the simulation was a fake and you were grounded?”

  “The simulation was not a fake and no, Legate, we were pulled from Roma to be of assistance.”

  “All right, I have here your results from the last assault and to be honest, we need you, but we need a damn legion of you—not just an understrength century.”

  “Sir, we may be understrength but give us a mission and we will complete it.”

  “All right, the 789th Century is pinned on all sides in the Relieve Forest. Fuck, this planet has weird names.”

  “Yes, Legate, and I see their situation.”

  “Can you help them?”

  “Yes, Legate, I believe we can. I also scanned the net that you were looking for the 219th. They’re in the city Resolution—their drop-ship was struck.”

  “Damn. Good work, and good luck.
”

  “No problem, Legate. Moving to 789th Century,” Mark acknowledged. “All right, Phantoms, we’re going to help 789th Century deep in the shit.”

  Phantoms started moving, checking their kit as they put on their packs again, tripling the ammunition they held. Sarah changed Mark onto the command frequency between him, the 354th, and 125th.

  “Got re-tasked to help the 789th out. Seems they’re in the shit. You guys are going to have to cover our positions till we get back.”

  “All right, I’ll move the 125th into your positions.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mark accepted his pack from Evan as Dodger was already moving out his contubernium.

  “Jesus, that’s one fucked-up position.” Jarek looked over the map of the hell they were going into.

  “Drop-ship got shot down—they punched everyone out. Their centurion pulled them onto that hill, all fucked up still, to get a better vantage and create defenses.”

  “You’re shitting me,” Chyna said in horror. He looked at the small hump barely a meter taller than the flat treed ground around it. “The fuck didn’t the idiot scan for the closest unit and link up?”

  “Fuck if I know. Anyway, Maraukians got within twenty meters of the tree line. Luckily someone saw it and hosed the entire forest, which is now full with the larger part of a million Maraukians.”

  “SNAFU,” Dodger said.

  “Agreed,” Jarek said.

  “What the heck does that mean?”

  “Well, young Ava,” Mark said quietly, “it means situation normal, all fucked up.”

  “Fits the Phantoms.”

  “She does have a point,” Chyna said.

  “We’ll sort out the damned sayings later. Prep to move.”

  Mark changed nets. “Centurions, Warrant—the Phantoms are moving out. We’re going to see what we can do for a centuria with their asses under heavy fire.”

  “Understood,” Centurion Flavius said. “We’ll look after the place while you’re gone.” The other two nodded before getting on their communicator and their nets; EMF and legionnaires repositioned.

  “Thanks.”

  “Look after yourself, Mark.”

  Mark came to attention and saluted. They replied as Mark took off, the Phantoms falling in behind him.

  “All right, so here’s my plan.” He put it on the net; the Phantoms pulled it apart, down to their components, sending their changes and thoughts back to Mark, incorporating what he could. In a few minutes, he was done.

  “Guess I’m flanking as per normal.”

  “Hey, you are the dodger.”

  “You flatterer, Mark,” Dodger said with humor filling the net. The others laughed as they headed into the forested area beyond the flattened area around the cities.

  Chapter 52

  Nonmetal City

  Gilese Actual, Gilese system

  7/3353

  “Get the fuck down and stay the FUCK DOWN!” Optio Kovyas yelled to his men. The veterans had jumped in the craters left by plasma bolts hitting the ground instead of them. M19s fired desperately at the advancing Maraukians, the Maraukians not letting up in the slightest as Optio Kovyas dragged his newly minted centurion screaming through the net.

  “Run! Save yourselves! Run away!”

  “Sir, kindly SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Kovyas yelled through his comm as he fragged the centurion’s NIAI, basically jamming it with immediate requests he was in no condition to complete, effectively silencing the centurion. He threw the man into a hole and he promptly adopted the fetal position. Some people were just not cut out for the frontlines.

  Kovyas would later swear he could hear whimpers over the racket of fire as he looked at the image the sensors were bouncing back at him of the one point two million Maraukians coming from every direction at the laughable “hill” he and his now fifty men were perched on.

  A burst of something crackled through both Kovyas’s and his idiot centurion’s brains as their NIAIs slowed it down enough for them to understand.

  “This is Centurion Mark Victor. Get into cover. Ten seconds till blast.”

  Kovyas scanned his map, not seeing anything on his sensors incoming. “Get the fuck down—blast incoming!” He wasn’t going to get his head up, especially when someone called a blast warning—no matter how strange. Most of the legionnaires followed his orders; others either didn’t pay attention or were too panicked to understand.

  It sounded as if he were in the middle of a lightning storm; cracks came from the sky without the telltale dark sky or the blinding flashes.

  The hill shook as thumps could be heard and felt around it. Then, for a few seconds, nothing—before Kovyas and his century were shaken like rag dolls. The ground came up and then down as shakes rattled them in their armor.

  “Up and firing, Optio,” the centurion said almost conversationally, shaking the cobwebs from Kovyas’s head.

  “All right, let’s hammer the fuckers. You don’t want to live forever, do you!?”

  The legionnaires replied with their guttural cries for death and destruction, raising their weapons up as they fired into the stunned Maraukians. The tree line was gone, replaced by craters perfectly distanced to make the tiny rise they’d called a hill into an actual hill. For kilometers, the tree lines were just blown over, revealing the Maraukians still swarming the hill. Kovyas didn’t need to aim as he held the trigger and moved his barrel across the front of the pushed-back Maraukians.

  ***

  “All right, Phantoms, take out their commanders while they’re still confused.” Mark cycled his M20s on top of his forearm, taking aim at two herd commanders. He breathed out as Sarah careted his targets. He watched as the high-density rounds spat from the M20, creating silver streams. One hit the herd commander’s power pack for his plasma cannon, turning him into a cyan fireball. The second died from the blast but five rounds found its power module as it landed. Mark changed his targets onto commanders, the rounds having the same effect of being hit by a Bellona.

  Mark threw himself away from his old position as fire coated the area and ripped apart the trees in sprays of splinters and set them on fire. Carets for a commander came into his sights as he fired without thinking and began running through the forest erratically to throw off the dumb normals. He fired in bursts, cutting down carets of commanders.

  The Phantoms were spaced out in a circle, enwrapping the Maraukians attacking the hill. Chaos reigned as commanders died from seemingly nowhere and then when the attacker was found, they’d disappear into the forest again, with another appearing and killing yet more leaders.

  Angry and annoyed, the herd commanders turned their last ranks outward, firing constantly into the forest. Rachel was hit by a round in the hand; she cut it off before it could spread. Everyone sighed in relief.

  “Dig in!” Mark threw down a cratering charge and jumped into the hole it created. He raised his fists, his M20s cycling to the outside of his arms. Sarah took over his left, walking the stream across the charging apes.

  Mark merged their minds, working together. Sarah took over the suit’s operations as Mark worked on his plans, half watching as he used his right hand to kill the careted leaders.

  He barely noticed a herd commander waving toward him, ordering his herd onward. Mark put three in his skull; his herd raged, attacking the nearest source of fire, charging it wildly.

  Sarah changed his left to HE rounds, hitting the trees around the Maraukians. The forest turned into weapons as splinters as big as Mark’s forearm ripped into the two hundred-strong herd, now reduced to less than one hundred.

  The smarter herd commanders surrounded themselves with their heaviest members of their herd. They tried to regain the lost herds of other commanders. It was a hard thing to do with complete calm; in battle, many stopped their weaving to grab an extra herd, getting an anti-matter loaded round for their troubles.

  ***

  Kovyas peeked from his cover and ducked quickly as coilguns and plasma bolts fired at
him but that moment had surprised him. Silver streams like those from the M19A spat out in brraps, hitting herd commanders as fast as they could and receiving a hammering for their troubles. They returned with longer silver bursts. The Maraukians’ focus had completely changed, turning toward the faraway tree line. Un-herded Maraukians crazily charged the silver streams and the trees exploded as they got close.

  Even with all of the firepower, it didn’t mean his people weren’t out of the line of fire by any means.

  “Fuck—this is FUBAR.”

  “You got that, Druta. Make sure everyone keeps the hell down. Too many people are getting the wrong idea. Get them to use their sensors.”

  “Gotcha, Kovyas.” Druta ran from cover around to the other side of the hill. Plasma and rounds sparked in his wake as he yelled at people to get their stupid asses into cover.

  Kovyas put his rifle over the lip of his crater, giving the closest Maraukian a burst to the stomach and hitting the ground like a sack of shit, his M19 already moving.

  “Get that heavy rail gun online.” Kovyas gestured with his helmet at the weapon in the back of the crater.

  A legionnaire grabbed it, passing Kovyas his rifle; he expertly checked the gun, loaded it and then threw it onto the lip and sat underneath it as they used the remote sensors to fire.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Kovyas said as other craters with heavy rail guns brought theirs online. “Let’s show these fuckers what happens when you mess with the 789th.”

  ***

  “Shit, get your blades ready,” Jarek said as the Maraukians started taking ground at an alarming rate. The amount of trees had decreased rapidly as the Phantoms had blown so many up.

  “LBMs!” Mark yelled. “Evan, Rachel, and Chyna, fire.”

  They took a knee inside their trenches. Their harnesses, still holding their extra ammunition, were pushed away to reveal three barrels: one on each shoulder blade and the third in the center of their backs.

  Each of them made a thumping noise. Dust rose around them as their legs dug into the ground as if they’d been hit by hammers then back into the fight. Mark communicated to the lightning ballistic missiles via a whisper laser. Sarah fired his M20s for him as the LBMs left the atmosphere. The accel rails on the backs of the Phantoms, having imparted all of the thrust, now finished as they turned lazily toward Gilese again. Their thrusters kicked as they sped back toward the ground. Mark used their fins to guide them to their locations Sarah had designated.