BattleMaster (The BattleMaster Corps Book 1)

by Nathaniel Danes

  He cocked his head at her.

  “Oh, no...that’s not what I mean. I meant — a man, any man, a BattleMaster. Just … wow.” Stephanie glanced around to confirm no one was within earshot. “You should’ve heard what they were saying about you when you first showed up.”

  “I imagine it wasn’t positive.”

  A burst of laugher shot out of her. “That’s the understatement of the century, but you showed them. They’re still in shock. No one had said a word when I left to catch up with you.”

  “They’re going to have to get used to me. I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

  “Don’t hold your breath. They’ll follow orders, but that doesn’t mean they’ll like it — or you, for that matter. These women have been top dogs for some time, and they don’t like the idea of having that apple cart upset. You’re going to have to put up with a mountain of shit.”

  “I can’t wait.” Stanner grimaced, then his expression shifted to a wry grin. “Hey, I’ve been a grunt private. I know what a mountain of shit is like.”

  Stephanie moved in closer, until he could feel her body heat. “I’m on your side, just remember that.” She planted another hard, deep kiss on him, throwing his mental balance off. She disengaged, touched his cheek with a gentle fingertip and walked away.

  He stared at her until she turned a corner. I think I like this new world order,

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Two thousand Wasps circled Stanner, encasing him in a sheet of black. The world outside of the cocoon was painted inside his mind through ten windows. Nothing escaped the swarm’s eyes, including a friend’s casual approach.

  A thought sent the drones straight up. They put themselves in orderly ranks before dropping into a square metal cargo container. The toy soldiers staked themselves in perfect rows until the sky was clear.

  Momentarily blinded with the closure of the link, Stanner opened his eyes to see a smiling Stephanie.

  She gave him a wave. “How’s it going? When did the real deals come in?”

  “Yesterday. Been playing around with them for a while now, just flying them around in formation.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing really.” He shrugged. “It took a couple hours, but I now have as much precision as I did in the sims. They make them so realistic that my learning curve is short.”

  “But?”

  “But...” He turned his palms up. “The link feels different. It’s just as clear, it’s just...I don’t know how to say it...”

  “Heavier.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s heavy, like now there’s weight to my thoughts and data feeds.”

  “I felt the same way. Don’t sweat it.” She wondered toward the container. “The sims are amazing enough, but in the end it’s just a program running on a computer a few feet from you and your drones are really just pictures. Now you’re dealing with reality, but it’s nothing to worry about. You’ll adjust in another day or so.”

  She scanned the area. “Are you out here alone? Weren’t you assigned a trainer? You’re a virgin, after all, aren’t you?”

  Blood rushed to his cheeks. “A virgin?”

  “Not that.” She flipped her wrist. “A BattleMaster who hasn’t popped her - his cherry in a real fight is called a virgin. You think it feels funny flying ‘em for real, wait till you do it with mortars going off around you. Trust me, I know. I broke records on the training sims and then got my ass handed to me on my first mission.”

  Stephanie took out a Wasp and turned it in her hands. “It’s so light. What’s with the rotary blades? Helicopters are like six hundred years old or something. Why not gravity repellers like my drones? Better maneuverability and acceleration.”

  “Older, I think.” Stanner picked up another unit, rotating the cross on top. “Bach said the genius behind the Wasps’ design is their simplicity. Alone, they’re pretty much useless for anything besides short-range recon, but get them in a group of a couple dozen to hundreds and you can really start to do some damage.

  “But something this small, even if you up-armor it, is going to be fragile in combat. Bad loss-to-kill rate, Bach said, so you need to make them cheap and fast for the economics to pan out. Repellers, more armor, and heavier lasers means a bigger power source on top of all that and soon each unit is getting pricy.”

  Stephanie set her Wasp back in the box. “But they’d have more kills per unit, right?”

  “Yes.” He bobbed his head. “But I guess not enough to warrant the increased expense and slower production rate. At least that’s what his simulations showed. This model is the most optimal in terms of cost versus lethality and survivability.

  “An industrial printer can crank these babies out like pancakes. If you get the logistics right, you can just keep feeding an engaged BattleSwarm with fresh Wasps while the enemy is losing armored units that are not only slower, more expensive, and complex to manufacture, but also aren’t easy to transport to the frontline. These little guys are also very effective anti-personnel tools. It’s the perfect blend of high-tech and cheap, expendable material.”

  “Wait.” She looked off in deep thought. “Weren’t helicopters notoriously complex and expensive?”

  “That’s where Bach steps in.” He lifted his left hand, pointing a finger down. Pointing up with his right, he circled a finger around the other. “The mechanical mechanism needed to rotate the blades on a conventionally-powered aircraft required a slew of tight fitting parts.

  “Instead, these move the blades with a magnetic vortex. All it needs are stationary magnetics and power to spin the little piece of metal in the central axis. Far less complex and cheaper.”

  She crossed her arms and smiled. “Damn, you’re gonna put me out of a job, Mister Stanner.”

  He couldn’t help but return the expression. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, captain. The BattleSwarm isn’t a replacement for your high speed, high altitude, high firepower aerial drones.

  “And there will always be a need for the real ball busters on the ground, too. I’m envisioned as a complimentary, highly flexible force. That’s another reason why the low cost of my gear is so attractive. I’m not gonna take away much from the rest of you.”

  “It’s nice to be needed.” She turned her head to scan the area. “I got distracted with your toys. Why are you out here all alone, anyway? Isn’t anyone training you?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been assigned a trainer. Major Essa, in fact.”

  Stephanie arched an eyebrow.

  “Yeah.” Stanner sighed. “That Major Essa. This morning she pointed me in the direction of my container here and told me to go play with myself. Said I should be good at it since that’s what boys are usually doing.”

  “That’s not cool.” Stephanie threw her hands in the air. “Real soldiers are going to be counting on you to support them. Their lives will be in your hands. This is bullshit. I’m going to say something.”

  He put his palms up. “No, don’t. That’ll just make it worse. This is only my first day. Maybe tomorrow she’ll come around and give me some pointers. Just being here, I’m rocking the boat pretty bad. I’m hoping things will settle if I keep my head down and don’t cause any more trouble than necessary. Please, let it go for now.”

  “Okay.” She put her hands on her hips. “But I’ll keep my eye on you. None of the BattleMasters are enjoying the idea of a man joining our ranks. You’d better be ready to eat a mountain of shit.”

  Stanner snorted. “I am. Besides, it can’t be much worse than what I had to put up with when I was just a grunt.” His body shivered at the thought of Reba commanding him to pleasure her.

  She cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing, not important.”

  She eyed him for three seconds. “Well, I should let you get back to playing with yourself.” A giggle came out of her mouth.

  His cheeks turned red. “Um, yeah, thanks...I�
�ll see you around, captain.”

  She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. His muscles tensed for a few seconds then relaxed, melting into her embrace. “I came here to thank you. Bach told me what you did. Pushing yourself to prove your project was viable, making mine obsolete. You saved me. Lowen was going to burn a hole in my brain before he would’ve been satisfied.” She squeezed tight. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Anything for you.” He regretted saying those last three words immediately. Did he cross a line? Would he scare her off now? Damn, why couldn’t I just play it cool?

  She reached up to take his face in her hands. Rising on her tiptoes, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Get back to work and show those bitches you belong.”

  He kept his gaze locked on her as she walked away, focusing on her perfectly-round rear end. She glanced over her shoulder to catch him in the act and flashed him a grin upon confirming what he was doing.

  When she was out of sight, he closed his eyes and activated the link. Rotors spun up until Wasps shot out of the box like they’d been launched from a cannon.

  Stanner’s head ached after his day of drilling with the contingent of drones. All he wanted was a hot meal and sack time. He wanted to be just another trooper at the end of a hard day.

  Blending in wasn’t an option, though. He was a celebrity now, surrounded by quick sideways glances and whispered conversations. Infantrymen looked upon him with a mixture of pride and jealousy. Fellow BattleMasters pretended to not notice him or sent daggers through tight brows.

  A few yards from the mess hall door, he could hear the room abuzz with social interactions. His entrance was like a flash fire that sucked all of the oxygen out. The silence infected the corner table nearest the door first and swept ahead of his steps.

  A knot formed in his gut. Their attention poured pressure on him until the blood vessels in his skull throbbed. Stanner didn’t let the crowd’s obvious reaction to him affect his display of force. Walking tall with eyes facing forward, he passed through to the reserved dining room.

  A wave of relief washed over him when the door closed. It lasted until he realized he’d exited the frying pan only to have jumped into the fire. At least this time the audience wasn’t measured in hundreds. However, what they lacked in numbers, they made up for in temperament.

  He plowed through their scorn as he approached the drink dispenser. “Coffee, black with standard pain meds.” The hum of the machine was the loudest thing in the room. Taking his drink, he sipped it as he picked up a tray of food and sat down at a half-full rectangular table.

  With excellent precession, the four women stood up, abandoning their unfinished meals to walk out in protest.

  Interesting. He’d sat there as an experiment, expecting them to remain without acknowledging him. Leaving good food behind to prove a meaningless point seemed silly.

  He drank and ate without missing a beat while keeping tabs on the other tables with his peripheral vision. The remaining six were at the same table staring at him with crossed arms. Chewing and swallowing bit after bit with unnecessary care, Stanner wondered what they might do next.

  Finished, he rose to place his tray in the waste slot on the wall. The six BattleMasters stood with him, taking double strides to beat him to his target. The ladies crowded around the slot, forming a barrier between him and it. They weren’t disposing of their trays.

  Unable to hold it in anymore, he let out a burst of laughter. The petty display reminded him of junior high. Their stupid stunt hurt them as much as him, more so even. After all, six of them were wasting their time to annoy one man.

  Making an about-face, he took his tray out of the dining room and disposed of it in the main hall. He smiled to himself on the way out. They’ll have to do better than that to get under my skin.

  They did.

  Entering his quarters within the BattleMaster’s realm, he found it in shambles. Every article of clothing, all his personal possessions, had been thrown around. The bed was turned over and writing on the wall said ‘Go home ape!’

  Stanner sighed and dropped to his knees to gather his stuff. He was lost in his thoughts of why when a hand landed on top of his. He jerked away, spinning on the floor and jumping to his feet into a combat position.

  Stephanie was standing, wide-eyed, with her hands up. “It’s me.”

  He exhaled a lungful of air. “Oh, thank God. I thought the ladies weren’t done with me for the evening.”

  She scanned the room. “Yeah, I can see why you’re jumpy. I heard some of them talking about seeing you at dinner, so I thought I’d check in. You left the door open a crack. You might want to make sure you don’t do that in the future.”

  “Good point. Think I need an extra lock, too.”

  “That couldn’t hurt. Would you like a little help straightening up?”

  He cocked his head at her. “Why are you different?”

  “Huh?”

  “You don’t seem to care that I’m a man trying to join your precious all-vagina team here.” He swung his arm around. “Everyone else seems to have a fucking problem with me here. Why not you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know...I guess I just don’t see what the big deal is. I want to win battles with as few losses on our side as possible. That’s why I became a BattleMaster, and if you can really help us achieve victory without buckets of blood, I say hell, yeah. Just like on the train. You and Veech did amazing things on that thing and who gives a crap if you’re men?” Her lips twisted. “I never told you the whole story about my father. He — he was an infantryman, like you. He died when I was young. He died charging an enemy stronghold. He was a good man, a good soldier, but he was flesh and bone like the rest of us.

  “He was forced to assault concrete and steel without proper support from an early BattleMaster model. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen to anyone else. Steel versus steel, those are the fights I want to see and I don’t give a shit if the person controlling ‘em has a dick or not.”

  “I’m sorry.” He cast his gaze to the floor for a second, then locked eyes with her. “I didn’t know.”

  She closed the gap between them, lifting his chin with a pinky. “Don’t let them get to you. They’re scared and lashing out. It’s going to be that way for a while, but remember that you will always have me in your corner. I’ve got your six.”

  The feel of her soft skin against his and the scent radiating off her drew him closer. Placing his hands on her shapely hips, he found himself closing his eyes and lowering his lips. She met him halfway, locking them in a passionate kiss.

  Consumed with desire, their hands roamed over each other. He cupped her round ass and perky breasts that were made to fit in his hands. She pushed into him, dropping them both onto his upturned mattress laying on the floor.

  They bonded their flesh in an array of positions, seeking pleasure and a deeper emotional connection. It was glorious, and for the first time in quite a while, Stanner didn’t feel alone.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  General Kyle Mendez took the podium on the steps of Liberty Hall, the colonial capitol building. He glanced behind him at the stone structure; its patterns of black lines running through the pure white marble always had a way of mesmerizing him. It had been built on the site of the colony’s first permanent structure and modeled after the Capitol in Washington. DC, though half the size.

  He felt humbled in its shadow. It was like the spirit of the original ten thousand colonists, those brave adventurers who had been born in space but tamed a wild world. It also stood as a testament to the greatness of the nation that launched their expedition — the youngest of the four by millennia.

  It was a sentiment he took to heart and one he probably needed. He’d been on Liberty for a week and in that time, he’d been paraded around from one adoring crowd to another. Kiss-ass opportunistic politicians who wanted him to run for office on their party’s ticket in next year’s election didn’t hel
p.

  Even if you know you’re not that special, it can be hard to keep your perspective with constant praise being heaped on you. Symbolism means a lot to many soldiers, Kyle included, and the building behind him kept him grounded. It whispered in his ear like a Roman slave of old during a triumph.

  He nodded at the stone as if it had read his mind and turned to regard the crowd. It filled the courtyard and stretched on for a hundred yards. They chanted his name, “Mendez! Mendez! Mendez!”

  Beaming, he held his arms out wide to a thunderous cheer. You are but a mortal man. He cleared his throat and frowned somberly. “Before I begin my remarks, let me ask for a moment of silence for the brave men and women who gave their lives for Liberty.”

  The speech lasted fifteen minutes. He praised the courage of the fallen and pledged to carry on until the last enemy soldier was purged from the surface of New Calcutta. At that point, the audience went wild and began chanting his name again as he walked off the makeshift stage.

  Kyle was proud of his oratory skills and considered going into politics when the war was over for all of a quarter of a second before shaking his head vigorously to expel the idea.

  A group of senators and secretaries waited for him at the bottom of the side steps, where they surrounded him, shaking his hand and patting him on the shoulder as they said, “Fine speech.” He was polite and endured standing for an endless number of photos with the war hero for their various campaigns’ stock image libraries.

  The Colonial Defense Secretary, Robert Leech, broke through the phalanx on a rescue mission, penetrating between a senator and the space secretary. “General, you have a tight schedule. I’m afraid you need to come with me now.” To the crowd, he added, “There will be time later for more photo ops for you all.”

  Kyle offered polite apologies as he immediately made his escape through the wake the CD secretary made. Clear of the VIPs and with the public held at bay by security, he had the space to come alongside Leech. Kyle was a head taller.