BattleMaster (The BattleMaster Corps Book 1)

by Nathaniel Danes

  She practically skipped away as he watched her leave, his gaze drifting to her firm and round ass. An assistant could be quite nice indeed.

  “Doc.”

  Bach turned to see Stanner come up to him. He couldn’t help but smile at the personification of his good fortunes. “So nice to see you, Mr. Stanner. What brings you by?”

  Stanner cocked his head. “Didn’t you ask for me to?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Please come into my office. I’ve been so busy making reports and giving presentations on our work together that I’m forgetting details here and there.” Bach closed the door behind him.

  Stanner circled, taking in the room which consisted of a desk and two chairs. “Big step up from your cubicle.”

  “It’s not much now, but I have a budget for decorating. It seems the powers that be are suddenly concerned with my happiness.”

  “I bet so. Surprised you’re not being shipped back to Liberty.”

  “In time.” Bach stood next to a box on his desk. “Much work remains here. You, after all, are the only subject to study. Not to mention that I’m making tweaks to the new Wasps we’re printing to give you the best when you get in the fight. A little extra to streamline the copying of your brainwaves. I can’t wait to study the after-action data from your first enemy engagement.”

  “You might get your chance soon. The base has a vibe, a kind of pent-up energy that says something big is about to happen.” Stanner sighed. “I just hope I don’t let you or anyone else down.”

  “I have every confidence in you. You’ve progressed nicely in your individual drills and force integration exercises these past two months.” Bach opened the box and pulled out a folded BattleMaster uniform. “I have noticed one issue. Your BDU wasn’t made for you, nor does it properly reflect your special status.”

  He held the bodysuit by the shoulders and let it unfold. It was pure black like the standard-issue ones with one exception. On the left breast was an emblem of a real wasp complete with six legs, horn-shaped antennae, long thin wings, and a gold-and-black striped body.

  “I had it made to fit you perfectly, since everything in stock is cut for a woman’s frame. I also thought there should be a little something to let the world know you aren’t just another BattleMaster. You are a SwarmMaster. Better. The future.”

  Stanner took hold of it, draping it over his chest. “Thanks, doc. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. I promise to do you proud.”

  ***

  Stephanie was sneaking up on Michael, using the trees that bordered the south end of the field he was practicing on to conceal her approach. She wanted to surprise him, to steal a few extra moments together before the gathering storm of war made such luxuries impossible.

  The attack would begin soon. No official word had come down, but every soldier felt it in his gut.

  She also wanted to see him commanding his drones without his being aware of her presence. Telling herself it was just for fun failed to erase the truth from her mind.

  Reba had planted a seed of doubt and she was hoping that seeing Michael in his new element would calm her fears. What if he isn’t ready? How many will die because they pushed him too hard, too soon?

  She punched her palm. “Stop thinking like that.”

  At the field’s edge, she hid behind a tree.

  Michael wasn’t visible but she knew where he was, at least approximately — somewhere inside the swirling funnel of black.

  The swarm shifted as a single mass, shooting straight up to reveal their master. He had his head down, eyes shut, fists balled. Suddenly the dark cloud split into four groups, stacking themselves in rows dozens of Wasps across and high. The separate walls of flying carbon descended to form a box around him. Twenty broke away to form a door for him to exit.

  The precision and speed of the maneuvers took her breath away. This was exactly want she wanted, needed to see. She jerked forward, wanting to rush out, cheering his name, and kiss him but caught herself when she saw a glimpse of a figure she hadn’t noticed before.

  Michael stood at rigid attention while the man looked him up and down, then said something. Michael snapped into parade rest. The Wasps poured themselves into their box, the thmoops of their tiny blades fading to nothing,

  Squinting, she leaned closer as the man directly faced her for a second. “General Mendez?” she murmured.

  The two exchanged words for a few minutes, then Mendez put a hand on Michael’s shoulder, said a few words and left. The general was out of sight before she broke cover and headed for Michael. She couldn’t help but notice he looked really good in his suit. It hugged him just right. Don’t remember him looking that sexy before.

  “That was really cool,” she said to announce herself. He regarded her with a smile. “The four walls thing you did with the drones. That was cool.”

  “Glad you saw it. I’ve been working up to that for a while.”

  She pointed in the direction Mendez left. “What did the general want?”

  “You know,” He shrugged. “I’m not really sure. He showed up out of the blue. Said he’d read up on me and wanted to see for himself what I could do. So I ran through a bunch of drills. He seemed to be impressed.”

  “I’m sure he was. You were awesome.” She pecked his cheek and ran her hands over the form-fitting outfit. “I love this on you. Is it new?”

  “Yeah. Bach had it made for me.” He pulled away and pointed to his left pectoral. “Added this too.”

  “That was nice of him.” She fingered the emblem. “Oh, what did Mendez say to you right before he left?”

  “Something about an ace in the hole and to be ready for anything. Said I’d be the key to victory and he was counting on me. Motivational stuff like that.”

  She knew she shouldn’t, but it just slipped out. “Yeah, but are you really ready?” Damn it!

  Michael’s head snapped back like she’d jabbed him. “What does that mean? You don’t think I’m ready? Did you just see what I did with my Wasps?” He hooked his thumb at the box. “It was a ballet in the sky.”

  Stephanie needed to recover fast. No matter what she thought, he was going to be sent into the fire and weakened self-confidence wasn’t going to help — not to mention the harm her words could have on their relationship.

  “That’s not what I meant.” She held her hands up. “You were great. I don’t know anyone who can do that.”

  He scowled. “I’m just a circus act? Not a real BattleMaster? I know I haven’t controlled them in combat yet, but it’s not like I’m some green recruit who’ll piss himself when the bullets start flying.”

  “I know you aren’t. I’m sorry.” She moved in to embrace him but he held her at bay with an outstretched arm.

  “And while I haven’t been practicing as long as most BattleMasters, my training sessions have been very intense and focused on getting me ready. Not to mention the crap I’ve had to put up with from your friends.”

  “They’re not my friends, Michael.”

  “Oh, yeah? You could’ve fooled me.” He flipped his wrist. “They don’t think I’m ready, either. Seems like you gals have more in common than you thought.”

  She pointed a stiff finger at him. “That’s not fair. I’ve had your back the entire time you’ve been in the Corps. Any chance I had at being friends with them was shot to hell the second they saw me with you, and I’ve taken my fair share of crap on your behalf.”

  “Really?” His eyes bulged out. “You’re going to stand there and claim you’ve had it as bad as me? Did they piss in your boot? Explode live ordnance yards away from you during drills? Try tripping you every time you walk by? Repeatedly tell you’re worthless? Forced you to perform sexual favors for them when you were powerless to do anything about it? The answer is no.”

  Her body slumped as he rattled off his list of grievances as if she was trying to hide from the shame.

  He continued, “I appreciate that you’ve been there for me, but don’t pretend o
ur experiences have been similar. On top of all that, I have people depending on me. I’m under a ton of pressure and now I feel all alone.”

  I really stepped in it this time. The first step in getting yourself out of a hole is to stop digging. “Babe, I’m sorry. I believe in you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  “Whatever.” He waved her off. “I’ve got drills to run through before I hit the bunk.”

  “Will I see you there later?”

  He shook his head. “I think we need to sleep in our own billets for now. The balloon is going up soon and we both need to be rested.”

  “Okay.” Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes but she bit her lip and choked them down. I need you, Michael, tonight of all nights.

  Closing his eyes, he activated the Wasps. Their rotors cut the air as they sped up and rose like a square block of carbon.

  She frowned and sniffled quietly. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  I love you, damn it.

  ***

  “This is it,” Veech muttered to himself as he rose out of bed. Lieutenant Hart had sent word to mobilize the platoon and it wasn’t another drill. The tension in the young officer’s voice told him everything he needed to know. The offensive was beginning today. The beginning of the end, one way or another, was upon them.

  His thoughts drifted to his father, the Marine who fought and bled in the war’s early stages before the spacefaring truce. From father to son, the battle for New Calcutta had raged. The idea it could all be over soon was surreal.

  He put his BDU on with special care, committing the moment to his memory as if part of his own personal documentary. History was about to be made and this could be the last time he donned his warrior’s cloak.

  Dressed and rifle in hand, he opened the door connecting his private room with the barracks. They were sleeping, unaware that everything was about to change forever. Of course, there wouldn’t be a future for many of them.

  Maybe he’d be one of the fallen this time. How many close calls could an old warhorse like him have before his time was up?

  Pulling his field knife from its sheath, he pounded the handle against the metal pole of a bunk. Clank, clank, clank, he continued until the last of the resting soldiers stirred. They leapt from their bunks and lined the corridor between the rows.

  “Listen up!” He strolled down the middle. “Pack your kits and be ready to move out in twenty minutes.”

  “What’s going on, sarge?” a wide-eyed newbie asked.

  Veech bit his lip to avoid screaming at the pale-faced kid. It didn’t feel like the right time to play the role of the harassing non-com. He opened his mouth but Corporal Olsen Rosewood beat him to it.

  “War, private. We’re going to war.”

  Veech looked at Olsen and nodded. Yes, we are.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Kyle stared at the order of battle on his tablet. Blue icons depicting American units dotted a line stretching for miles. A smattering of red opposite his forces signified known enemy positions. It was a token holding force, a trip wire, nothing more.

  The land separating the two armies was flat, clear of natural obstacles. Perfect ground for a foe on the hunt and the Chinese could see that. They wouldn’t make their stand here.

  He dragged the screen deeper into enemy territory. Rivers, hills, and small forests zipped past until he reached their destination three-hundred eighty-three miles away, Shangri-La. That was just a nickname, of course, for the planetary headquarters of the Chinese on New Calcutta.

  It was an expansive complex of buildings housing everything from troops and armored units to industrial centers. It dwarfed the American facilities. The city was a stationary asset in a mobile war, a point the enemy had to commit to defending.

  Don’t get ahead of yourself. Don’t get sucked into a bad situation because you’re too focused on the primary objective to see the dangers right in front of you. Remember what Samantha said.

  A tap of the screen brought the view back to his position. He examined the information one last time and nodded to himself. Looking up, he took in the landscape around his mobile command center. The sun was setting. Fiery oranges and reds ran through the clouds. It reminded him of the ancient Japanese Imperial flag he’d seen in military history books.

  A fitting sign to start a battle under.

  “Captain Lynchburg.” Kyle regarded his aide. “Send the word: all units, advance. The attack is on.”

  ***

  “Fan out!” Veech waved his left arm, rifle in his right hand, and shouted over the unit com-link. “Check this area for hidden positions. Search for mines and other traps!”

  His men were moving fast, too fast to provide for their own safety and yet not fast enough for the BattleMaster units nipping on their heels. Good soldiers were going to die for their hurry, but he understood, accepted the cold reality of war. He and his men were expendable. Time and drones were not.

  The crackle of rifle bursts ahead caused his heart to beat a bit faster. First contact with the enemy had been made. The fight was on, and the dying could begin now.

  “Machine gun nest at eleven o’clock,” Corporal Rosewood reported on the command channel. “Permission to order airstrike.”

  “Negative,” Lieutenant Hart answered. “Air isn’t going to be bothered with nests. Surround and eliminate, corporal, and do it quick. Don’t let them get away and set up somewhere else.”

  “Ah, yes, sir.”

  Yep, the dying could start now.

  ***

  Clouds whipped past Stephanie’s mind’s eye as she sliced through the night sky. An alert flashed. Sensors had detected a SAM unit below. She was calculating her attack when her com buzzed alive.

  “Stay clear, Hotshot. Don’t engage.”

  “Sir, don’t we need to clear the airspace of threats?”

  “Affirmative, but the sky is otherwise clear and our infantry is closing in on that position. It’s no longer worth risking one of your assets to take it out. Save it for when the enemy contests our air superiority.”

  “Understood, sir. Steering clear.” Stephanie gritted her teeth as she banked her five pairs of fighters away from danger.

  ***

  Reba felt the ground shake though the legs of her spider bots as they galloped forward. Two mini-tanks flanked each side, their treads chewing up dirt. Ahead was nothing but clear open space, an armored warrior’s wet dream.

  She was racing to catch up with the apes sent ahead to clear a path for her precious bots. Push them onward toward the enemy. They’d get lazy and cautious if she didn’t threaten to run over them herself.

  A tank’s optics caught something ahead. A squad of apes was pinned down by an enemy pillbox. Her fists clenched. Useless lead throwers.

  Her eight minions shifted course as one. The mini-tanks fell back as the four spiders surged directly at the enemy position. She shouldn’t have to be doing this. If the damn infantry could do their freaking job, she wouldn’t have to waste time mopping up a minor annoyance.

  Four ball laser turrets swiveled to aim and lanced out hot beams. The red streaks hammered the concrete box, heating it to a bright orange until it caved in on itself.

  Veering hard right, she put her minions back on track save for the lone tank she had paused in front of the infantrymen who failed to pave the way for her.

  She shook her head, turning its fifty-caliber barrels left and right to voice her disapproval. Swinging the tank one-hundred and eighty degrees, she floored the accelerator. The treads kicked up a wall of dirt in the apes faces.

  ***

  Stanner yawned as he straightened his arms out to stretch. Turning his head, he took in his surroundings. It was all just how he’d left it before taking a nap under a tree. The truck carrying a container of Wasps was inside the treeline of a small copse they had used to conceal themselves. A squad of infantry milled about, killing time with cards and chit-chat.

  Another yawn forced itself out. He got to
his feet. The offensive kicked off with adrenaline hyping him up, leaving him itching to get into the fray. Then nothing happened. His armored truck sat deep in the rear while nearly the entire expeditionary force was on the move, rolling toward ultimate victory.

  They didn’t advance until a safe forward location had been found and swept. The emotional crash had made him tired and he figured what the hell, might as well get sleep while he could. Once he was ordered in, who knew when he’d get a chance to rest. He sighed to himself. Who knew when he’d get a chance to show what he could do?

  The lingering group of men, ten from the infantry squad assigned to his protection and one driver, went silent as he came close. He could feel their eyes on him like he was an attraction in a zoo. They’d been assigned to him at the last minute and they hadn’t had a chance to talk beyond simple pleasantries.

  Stanner sat on the end of a log four of them were using. The stubborn silence ate at him. “Hope you guys don’t mind getting assigned to babysitting duty.”

  They shifted in their seats and shuffled their feet.

  “Any news on how things are going? Have we met any major resistance?”

  The squad’s sergeant cleared his throat. He was a tall, lanky man. “I’ve only got access to general updates.” He raised his arm with the wrist computer. “We’re progressing well for the moment.”

  “Good to hear.” Stanner took a sip of water from his straw. “Sergeant...Stanford, where are you from back home?”

  “Polar City.”

  Stanner waited a second for more details about the man’s life but none came. “That’s a new one for me. Never met anyone from that far north. Not many people live up there, right?”

  “Just a few climatologists and a small mining company that works a deposit of rare earths.”

  “So, which is your family?”

  “Chief?” Stanford arched an eyebrow.

  “Scientist or miners? What was your family?”

  “Miners.” Stanford drank from his straw and pressed his lips together.

  Stanner groaned inside his head. They weren’t going to make this easy. “Look, there’s no reason to be on edge around me. Hell, before they pinned these squares on my collar a couple months ago, I was a corporal in an infantry unit just like this.