A hover tank fired. The suit disappeared as the rounds passed through where it had been. It threw itself out of another window, dropping on the front of the tank. The thirty-ton tank’s rear end rose into the air. The suit grabbed the main gun, throwing it over himself and into the tower. Swords appeared in its hands as it systematically took apart the tank. The hover plate and the power relays were ripped out, and armor tossed into the vehicles holding the Maraukian weapons. A driver panicked, diving at the suit, which turned, jumped and punched the front of the truck. Maraukian weapons were thrown from their cradle as the truck flipped and landed upside down. The engine compartment fell apart.
“Throw away your weapons and lie on the ground!” Davos said, following his own instructions and watching as the devil ripped through the ranks of contractors. It went through the soldiers like a whirlwind, ripping, cutting, and destroying the weapons.
***
Ava felt the unimaginable rage after the shocks of Freusht’s and Horlem’s deaths. She looked to Chyna and Dodger. “I’ll get him.” Everyone else already knew what was happening as they senselessly checked themselves, Chyna and Dodger organizing them.
She tipped off the tower, pushing against it and sending herself like a dart for the slaughter. She merged with Kela, pulling him into her more than she ever had before—one goal, one mindset. Mark was ripping any vehicle that hadn’t been destroyed with his horrendous armor and fists. Those who hadn’t let go of their weapons ran or were laid out on the ground.
She saw him walking toward the general as she let go of everything, feeling her link to him. “MARK!”
He didn’t stop. She could feel the rage powering him as she smacked into him at full tilt. She accessed the link to him, forcing herself through it as she yelled again.
“STOP!” She felt herself go deeper as she, Kela, Sarah, and the man behind the mask merged. Shock and confusion registered. Ava could understand his anger for the first time. Before, she thought she had but now she was experiencing it. She could sense how close he was to releasing it, how dangerous he truly was. It didn’t scare her; she trusted him. She knew he was integrating her, too; she released her memories, living them through with Mark as he did the same. Pain, love, sadness, happiness, fear, and joy passed between them as they understood each other more than any other ever possibly could.
They pulled back their connection. Ava looked at Mark. Kela flashed a warning as she picked up a rock and hit the general, who had pulled a pistol, and knocked the idiot out.
She pulled off her helmet and pulled off Mark’s.
He looked up at her with different eyes. “I lost them. They took my family from me again.”
“I know. I know.” She brought the man to her chest. His armor reverted to normal as he buried his face in her hair. His body shook with the silent cries of loss. Ava pulled him closer, feeling tears fall down her face. Mark stopped crying and cleared his throat. Ava released him. They stood, holding their helmets in their hands as they looked at the destruction Mark had caused.
Phantoms were already policing the security contractor and Maraukian weapons.
“Why do we have to kill one another?” Ava asked.
“Because of some asshole somewhere with a pen saying it’s the right thing to do.” Mark’s voice was full of pain as he weighed his helmet in his hand. He put it back on his head, sealing him in once again.
“Let’s give them a hand. Family has to work together.” Ava silently put her helmet back on, wiping the last tears from her brown-flecked blue eyes.
Jarek walked over, his helmet off, as tears streamed down his face. He tried to use his missing arm to wipe away the tears until he realized it was missing. Wendel held him as he threw his helmet to the ground in frustration and sunk to his knees. Queen floated from where he’d landed, settling on the ground. His nanites took what they needed from the surrounding area, rebuilding his armor piece by piece before it rebuilt his lower legs. He silently watched over Freusht and Horlem, his M20s ready. The other Phantoms who’d watched what had happened over the Pluto-powered armor sensors worked on trying to keep themselves busy before they allowed themselves to think about what had happened.
Mark and Ava helped round up rifles, letting the others take away the contractors and placing them in a tower cleared of Maraukian weapons, if not necessarily the bodies. Finally, the security contractors were put on three floors of the tower.
The Phantoms gathered around the bodies of Freusht and Horlem, removing their helmets. There wasn’t a dry eye; some tried to manfully hide it—others were on their knees, crying as Jarek had. People held one another for the comfort that at least this member of what could only be called a family wasn’t dead today.
Mark let them get settled down.
“To Mikael Freusht and George Horlem—Phantom Lords.”
Every M20 raised into the air slowly, firing a shot. The blast echoed through the silent towers except for the pangs of cooling metal. A second blast followed as the noise ebbed away.
Mark initiated the return protocol as the two suits rose a few feet off the ground and slowly passed through the city toward where the other Phantoms who hadn’t made it across Gilese rested.
“Legate Sextilius, this is Centurion Mark, Phantom Lords. Two KIA—Freusht and Horlem—two wounded, approximately two thousand security contractors under arrest.”
“What happened, Mark?”
“They killed them, sir.”
Ava’s heart went out to Mark as she heard the harsh tone and the memories of his past were brought to the fore.
How can a man live with so much death and not break? She looked at the man and slowly put her helmet back on.
Ava sensed something change in the Phantoms. They were closer than they had ever been to one another. They trusted one another completely but others had to earn their trust now; everything was hostile until deemed friendly.
A few hours later, a legionnaire told Mark the general was awake, with what appeared to be a boulder growing out of his head. Mark marched into what had been a cafeteria; he approached the general, who was the sole person in the room save three legionnaire guards, sipping what appeared to be coffee and looking as if to not have a care in the world.
“Now who ordered for you to take a suit back to be used?”
“Privil—” The small smile that had been on the man’s face disappeared as Mark picked the man up with a single hand by the throat, walked through the tables in the room and smashed him against the wall.
“Now I will ask again, who asked for the suit?” He squeezed a little and the man’s eyes bulged.
Ava could see the shock in the man’s eyes, looking for help. The legionnaires nodded to Ava, who nodded back as they got some coffee from a dispenser and ignored them.
“Who?” Mark said as the man coughed for air.
“COEMF,” he struggled to get out.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes!” the man yelled.
Kela registered the wet spot growing on the man’s pants.
“Get this piece of shit out of my sight,” Mark said to the munifex and evocatus having coffee as he dropped the general in a wet patch. The legionnaires walked over to the man, checking him over as Mark and Ava walked out of the cafeteria.
“This is fucking messed up,” Mark commed.
“Agreed.”
They walked back to the others, who were now with who their NIAIs told them was Legatus Sextilius. His contubernium of security scanned the area as the Phantoms lounged around on the rubble, uninterested in what was going on.
“I’m sorry, Mark.”
“It’s not your fault and you didn’t come all of the way just to give your condolences.”
“I wish I came to do so. Every man and woman who serves under me deserves it.”
“I didn’t mean to be rash. Sorry, Legate.”
“It’s okay, Mark. I understand. But yes, you’re right—I’m not just here to honor your dead. We need you to go ou
t with the lead Bellona tanks and clear the forests.”
“Mop-up duty,” Ava said before Mark could speak.
“That’s right. It ain’t glorious but it needs to be done. Also, your shipment arrived. It’ll be here tomorrow, so rest. We’ll take care of your people. You have my word they’ll be treated with honor.”
“Thank you, Legate. We’ll look after them till then and get some sleep. We’ll be in the central tower.”
“Understood. Dismissed then.” Mark and Sextilius saluted each other.
“All right, Phantoms, we’re relocating to central tower. Move out.” Mark sounded tired as the Phantoms gathered together and set off in their ground-eating lope toward the tower.
It was a few hours later when Ava found Mark again. He was sitting in a broken window a few kilometers above the ground, the vicious wind a slow breeze as he smoked one of his aromatic cigars and looked out upon Gilese.
“Disgusting habit, that,” Ava said, stealing it from Mark in a quick pinch. She inhaled the smoke, tasting the flavors of the infused cigar and exhaling slowly as she passed it back. She leaned against the pane of plexiglass, looking out upon the same view in companionable silence.
“You’re going to be transferred before we go out tomorrow.” Mark broke the silence. Ava’s stomach dropped as he continued.
“Seems you and Chyna will be held back to train the next batch of Phantoms. Nothing shoddy—you hear me?” Mark pointed his finger sarcastically, the joke dry as she gave him a slight smile and took the cigar from him again.
“What about you, Mark?”
“I’m okay for now since we…merged.” His look eased some of the tension she felt and added it in different ways. “I feel like I’ve gained more control and become more centered.”
“I understand.” She was the only one in the universe who could, she understood as she looked back at him.
They relaxed for the first time in weeks, contemplating and staring into nothing, smoking the cigar, content as they reflected. As they looked over the tower, they saw Phantoms leaning out of windows, sitting on ruined desks, talking to one another, weapons dotted around them.
“I’m going to find Chyna,” Ava said.
“Good luck.” Mark waved her off. He continued to stare out over Gilese, taking in the moment.
Ava felt a small smile on her lips as she walked away. He’d been a lot calmer since the merge. She was still scared of the things that were piled up inside him. The harrowing memories helped her to understand him as a man; she knew she wouldn’t have been able to make it through most of the things he’d conquered.
She found Chyna cleaning his blade, overlooking a park below.
He nodded to her, continuing his cleaning as she sat down and watched him.
“We’ve come a long way from Crisidium,” Ava muttered.
“That we have, young one,” Chyna replied.
“There isn’t any other unit I’d rather be in other than the Phantom Lords.”
“Nor I. Our family is a strong and formidable one.”
“That it is.”
Chapter 58
Bellona 6782
Gilese Actual, Gilese system
10/3353
Thomas McDougall watched as Gilese Actual filled his view screen. “Robert, check the damn seals again.”
“But boss, this is the third time!” Robert said wearily.
“Better to check them five times and be safe than once and find ourselves breathing in space.”
“You got it, boss.” Valentine rolled his eyes, mouthing “new guys” from his driving position in the tank, thoughtfully named with the words pointy end and wait for flash on the turret.
“Chang, Lackey—status?”
“Front left turrets and countermeasures locked down, loaded and ready,” Chang said tiredly from his separate cockpit—consisting of two ladders, a sleeping quarters, and the reactors that drove the beast, over two hundred meters from McDougall.
Lackey, placed opposite Chang, commed in: “All good here, too, boss.”
“Before you ask, we’re fine down here too,” Jennifer Laefertie said in the engine room, keeping the beast rolling and repaired when they found Maraukians.
“Alrighty, bay doors opening.”
“Bellona 6782, engaging mechanical and grav locks.”
“Roger, drop-ship 294.” McDougall rechecked the locks. “Good on this side.”
“Moving.”
The Bellona moved off the bay floor. The first contubernium moved forward, turning down and away from the carrier. McDougall’s Bellona moved forward after them, dropping behind them. McDougall slaved his view screen to the packed 360-degree view. Behind him, the third battlegroup were pushing out their drop-ships and supply shuttles as fast as possible. More were coming from Gilese’s ground, adding to the mass of ships showing on his sensor readings. The third battlegroup was two times the size of the second in “ground pounders,” as McDougall referred to them. Three times the amount of “spacey bastards” and still McDougall didn’t feel totally safe, even inside Betsy. With the Maraukians having A-drive, they could strike anywhere, at any time, with little or no warning. The universe had become a scarier place.
The drop gull fitted to the Bellona to let it enter atmosphere heated up as they were buffeted entering the atmosphere. McDougall checked his harness as Valentine whooped. The universe seemingly dropped from underneath as they sliced into the atmosphere with hundreds of other drop-ships and shuttles, each looking like sparking comets. Herd commanders opened fire at targets.
McDougall could see hundreds of kilometers around the other side of the planet. Not today, McDougall thought. He whooped with Valentine as they and a battalion of other Bellona blew their drop kit. Drop-ships released them a few meters off the ground, thumping as they did so. Valentine had them moving and the rest tracking guns.
“All good here, boss,” Laefertie said from the engine room.
McDougall scanned his panoramic view screen as tanks dropped their power plants, growling as they pushed on toward the city Hope. They slowed down. As McDougall entered the city, it seemed to rain Maraukian bodies that smashed into the valleys between the towers. EMF vehicles modified to hold Maraukian weapons lay scattered across the main roadways, destroyed and ripped apart in one area as if they’d met a meat grinder. McDougall took a closer look at the towers, seeing EMF pushing the bodies out as legionnaires watched them very closely.
“Something’s changed between Legionnaire and EMF forces, it seems,” he commed to the rest of the crew.
“Seems they killed two Phantom Lords and heavily injured two more.” Robert scanned the net for information. “Shit, I was told the Phantoms were bad ass but this is insane,” he continued over the open net.
“Which would be what, Robert?”
“Boss, they cleared the entire city themselves with only twelve minor firefights, three major ones and then one man ripped the entire EMF force, of approximately three battalions’ worth of soldiers, a new asshole.”
Thomas looked at his view screen, shocked, as he looked at the destruction reaped on the EMF vehicles Valentine was crushing beneath the Bellona tracks. Remind me not to get on this guy’s bad side.
“Going up.” McDougall popped his hatch as his seat pushed him through the armor and to his seat behind three heavy rail guns on top of the tank turning with him as he looked around. At the base of the main building, thirty or so massive black suits sat and lounged across what lay around. They rustled as the tanks got close. The tallest one walked forward as Valentine stopped the Bellona before them.
“I believe you’re our ride,” the mountain of armor commed in such a rush that McDougall had to let his NIAI translate it.
“I believe so, sir.”
“Just call me Mark. You and yours ready to roll?”
“You bet, Mark. We’ve got fifteen Bellona ready to rock.”
“Pleased to hear it. Phantoms.”
The Phantoms picked themselves up,
shaking themselves as they dispersed among the Bellona in minutes. Mark jumped and landed beside McDougall’s hatch. “Now let’s go kill us some Maraukians.”
“I agree with that.” Then to the tank commanders, he ordered, “Roll out.” He looked back to Mark. “I’m going down. You sure you’ll be fine there?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll move fast enough when the osmium and anti-matter starts flying.”
With that, McDougall punched his release and dropped into the tank in less than a second. The hatches shut behind him as he studied the world through his view screens. They turned on the main street, out toward the jungle which made up much of Gilese—packed with Maraukians.
“All right, Valentine, get us to the step-off point. Robert, make sure everyone knows their place and get in contact with the other Bellona. I also want a link to artillery if we need cover in a hurry.”
The NIAI was a great tool but it was still hard for a tank company commander to talk to everyone, designate targets, and the million and one things he had to be able to do continuously. Thus Robert McDougall watched as Valentine gunned the Bellona’s power plant, feeding power into the tracks as they mounted a three-hundred-foot hill. They were airborne for a few seconds, which made McDougall’s heart race as nothing weighing in the tens of thousands of tons should be airborne for any amount of time.
“Valentine, I’ve told you a million times.”
“I know—it’s not my hover bike on a rough course. Betsy just needed to stretch her tracks is all.”
The tank purred, seemingly agreeing with her driver as they rushed through a forest, tearing up the beautiful jungle of Gilese underneath its eight ten-meter-wide tracks. McDougall rolled his eyes as he scanned his screens, pulling up the placement of the Bellona corralling the Maraukians toward them. A semicircle of sixty Bellona had cleared downward from the top of the continent, killing Maraukians with all of the artillery and firepower they could provide. It would later be referred to as the blue sea, the area covered in crushed Maraukian bodies from the north to the south of the single continent of Gilese. A trail of resupplying trucks was behind the Bellona, rushing up and attaching to the rear of them. When they ran low on rounds, they fed into the Bellona’s ammunition compartments, still moving and then detaching when it was out of rounds. The Bellona would close its hatches, firing continuously as if nothing had happened and the truck went to the nearest prepared ammo dump to re-arm.
The Tenth Awakens (Maraukian War Book 1) Page 32
