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Bring the Thunder (War Wolves Book 1)

Page 9

by Jonathan Yanez


  Their training in the Hazard Room had taught them two things about their weapons. First, they were going to rename them whatever the hell they wanted, because the names the scientist at the Bulwark had come up with sounded like nerf guns. Second, the weapons had needed to be painted. No one would have taken them seriously carrying orange-and-yellow weapons into a fight. They were now a satisfactory mix of flat black, dark grey, and even a few crimson pieces added in for good measure.

  Vet acted as their sniper with a weapon he named the Longshot 1000 that had a scope nearly as long as the barrel. He carried a Destroyer T9 as a secondary weapon that looked like a cross between a Denali and an old-fashioned Tommy Gun. Riot’s and Wang’s weapons were nearly identical—they both carried Villain Pulse Rifles, which were basically the Syndicates’ version of an AR and Cannon FP290’s that resembled 1911s.

  The one minor difference in Wang’s gear was that he insisted on taking his lucky pack of throwing knives.

  “Outside of the normal planet wildlife, there does not seem to be any threat to the ship,” Evonne reported in. “Will I be accompanying you on your journey?”

  Vet nodded over to Riot. “She’s patched into our suits and comms.”

  “Fine.” Riot took off her ship uniform and shrugged on the dragon skin under armor. She nodded to the black-and-red liquid armor they would put on next. “You’ve been a busy boy, Rizzo.”

  On the left shoulders of the armor a black emblem stood out against the crimson red of the liquid armor’s shoulder pad. The black snarling wolf was a perfect match to Wang’s tattoo.

  Wang thought we all got tattoos of them, Rizzo signed before he burst out in silent laughter. What an idiot.

  “Too soon.” Wang shook his head from his position on the other side of the square armory room. “Be nice, or I’ll push extra hard when I’m shooting you all up with Deborah’s nanites.”

  “‘Nanites’?” Riot repeated, looking over to Deborah as she strapped the grenades to her belt on one side and the handle of her molten blade on the other. “What is he talking about?”

  “The Syndicate left us a means of communicating with alien races.” Deborah went to one of the many storage racks on the wall and brought back a small, black case. She opened it in front of the squad to reveal five glass cylinders with silver liquid inside, as well as what looked like a small metal gun with a needle-point end. “It’s been checked and double checked, don’t worry.”

  “Nobody said anything about needles,” Vet said, shying away from the box. “I hate needles.”

  “Wait a minute, let me get this straight.” Riot lifted an eyebrow at the open case in front of her. “This is going to allow us to be able to talk to the Trilords in their language, as well as translate what they’re saying back to us?”

  “That’s right.” Wang loaded the first cylinder into the needle gun. “Who’s first?”

  Nanites? Rizzo spelled out the word. Like robots?

  “Like tiny robots that will attach to our eardrums and throats translating what we hear as well as what we mean to say.” Deborah sidled up to Wang and exposed her neck as if she were giving a vampire the okay to take a bite. “Come on, I thought you were all a group of tough Marines, It’s—”

  While Deborah was talking, Wang leaned in and, without hesitation, sunk the needle into the side of her neck. It disappeared into her soft white skin. Wang pulled the trigger of the needle gun, sending the metal-like liquid into her body.

  “Ahhh!” Deborah winced. “Okay, maybe it hurts a little.”

  “Well, since we’re so tough, I think we should be able to call ourselves the War Wolves, then, right?” Riot had snuck in the question, already knowing what Deborah’s response would be.

  “No, we’re a peace envoy.” Deborah rubbed the spot where the needle had pierced her skin as soon as Wang had removed it. “We’re not calling ourselves anything with war, battle, eviscerate, destroy, or anything else aggressive. Now get your nanites. I’m going to check in with the Bulwark one more time before we go.”

  It’s all in your imagination, Riot told herself as she pulled her mind away from conjuring images of tiny steel spiders crawling through her body. You’ve survived worse, and you’ll survive this.

  22

  My mouth tastes like metal. Rizzo signed before spitting onto the ground of the cargo bay.

  Riot understood exactly what he meant. Once Wang had administered her nanites, the metallic taste had also flooded her mouth. It felt like she had been sucking on a metal-flavored lollipop for the last ten minutes.

  “Let’s get this show on the road.” Riot looked over to Deborah. “Do you have the plotted course?”

  “I do. Checking on air breathability now. Good. Remember, no helmets unless it’s absolutely necessary. We want to create allies with this race, not intimidate them.” Deborah clicked a few buttons on a hologram screen that connected to the top of her left forearm. “Ready? The capital of the Trilords should be three miles from our current position. They will have seen us land, so don’t expect a warm welcome. Let me do the talking when we come in contact with them.”

  “Be my guest.” Riot did one last check of her gear. Weapons and supplies ready, her helmet was attached to her lower back just below her supply pack. “Evonne, lower the cargo door.”

  “Yes, Riot,” Evonne responded in her chipper Australian accent.

  The cargo doors slowly began to descend.

  “All right, stay aware. Remember, don’t engage unless I give the order. We’re here to play nice and make new friends, not to start another intergalactic war.” Riot took a step forward. She would never ask her men to do anything she wasn’t willing to do herself. The best leaders led by example. “Let’s do this.”

  The cargo door continued its slow descent, but as soon as it reached Riot’s eye level, she was able to see the alien planet span out in front of her like some kind of acid trip.

  The jungle was almost an exact replica of what they’d trained in back in the Hazard Room. Dark purple trees and deep green shrubs fought one another for space in the dense jungle. It was a miracle Rizzo had found a place large enough to land the craft at all.

  Riot took the first few steps off the ship and down the ramp. So far, gravity felt the same as that of earth. The air was moist, the sounds of alien creatures chirping and squawking overhead and within the jungle.

  One of the differences from the Hazard Room to being on the actual planet was the lack of fog on the ground. Riot’s boots sank into the thick, dark soil. She swept the jungle’s interior over and over again, making sure that, at least for the moment, they were still alone.

  “On me,” Riot said, and as she swung back to look at her crew, a section of their ship caught her eye. The very back edge had been gouged, deep indentations everywhere, as if the ship had been clawed by the talons of some mammoth monster. Riot had to remind herself that was exactly what had happened. “Evonne, lock up the ship.”

  “Right away, Riot.” The AI’s voice sounded loud in Riot’s ear, making her shake her head. “Sorry. Too loud? I’m communicating with you through the nanites.”

  “Great.” Riot rolled her eyes. “You’re in our heads now, too. That’s just what I needed.”

  “Stay close,” Riot called over her shoulder as the back cargo ramp to the ship closed. “Rizzo, with me; Wang, with the package; and Vet, bringing up the rear, just like we practiced.”

  Without a word, Riot’s team fell in line. Riot’s heartbeat was moderate, but it was a struggle not to see red eyes in the shadows cast by the trees. It was only a matter of time before they came across the Trilords. This close to their main city, they had to have already been spotted.

  If they were anything like the Syndicate had reported them to be, then they were on their way. Maybe they were already here, watching? The hardest part for Riot was having to remind herself to keep her weapon lowered. Over and over again, her muscles begged to raise her Villain Pulse Rifle and look down the sights.


  The group continued on in silence for the next few minutes. Riot wove a path through the jungle, following a map Deborah had sent to her forearm display. Sweat from the humid atmosphere roped Riot’s forehead. Yet another thing the Hazard Room had not prepared them for. The two suns that beat down on the planet were not making their trek through the jungle easy.

  A few more minutes in and Rizzo froze beside her. Riot followed his gaze. To their right, a massive dark form stood in the shadows of an outcropping, and in a rush, the form vanished into the underbrush. Riot blinked past the sweat, reminding herself once again not to lift her weapon.

  “I don’t think we’re alone,” Wang said as he and Deborah came up behind Riot and Rizzo. “I’ve noticed movement to our right.”

  “They’re in front of us and to our left.” Riot caught motion out of the corner of her eye. “Vet?”

  “I caught movement behind us, as well.” Vet joined the group, his trigger finger tapping the Longshot that hung in front of his torso, barrel to the ground. “We’re surrounded.”

  “All right, Bubbles.” Riot swept her arm in front of her, ushering the doctor forward. “The stage is yours. Woo them with your personality.”

  It was clear Deborah was uncomfortable. She licked at dry lips and fumbled with the screen on her left forearm, bringing up what looked like notes. Despite her hesitation, she stepped forward. She looked out into the jungle, preparing herself to speak to the native population.

  “To the Trilord people: We are not your enemies. We come in peace, hoping to build a lasting friendship. We do not wish anyone to be hurt, but rather to have both our people grow as we share knowledge, and to plant a lasting relationship. Please, give us a chance to speak with you.”

  Riot was still trying to understand how the nanites worked. She could understand everything Deborah was saying just fine, so did that mean the nanites in Deborah were translating her words into the Trilord dialect while Riot’s nanites were hearing these words and translating them back to English?

  These were the thoughts crashing through Riot’s mind when a figure in front of the group materialized from out of the jungle. As the figure approached, its features became more defined. It appeared to be a female member of the Trilord race. The creature was easily over six feet tall with hard muscles covering her body. Her black hair was swept back in dreadlocks. Her red eyes searched the group up and down. She wore dark brown, tight-fitting shorts, as well a dark brown tank top that cut off just below her breasts.

  In her hand she held a weapon every member in Riot’s squad was familiar with—a long pole with a double-bladed axe head on each side of a blaster barrel that acted as the end of the weapon. The barrel was pointed at them now.

  “How do you speak our language?” The woman cocked her head, studying them from their toes to the tops of their own heads. “Where do you come from? Did Remus send you?”

  “We come from a planet called Earth.” Deborah lifted her hands up, exposing the bottoms of her palms. “I’ve never heard of a Remus. My name is Deborah. Behind me are my friends: Riot, Rizzo, Vet, and Wang.”

  “Hello, hi there.” Riot smiled and waved to the female Trilord. “I like your top.”

  23

  “The weapons you carry.” The female Trilord eyed Riot’s rifle, as well as the rocket on Rizzo’s back. “Drop them.”

  “Why don’t you lower yours?” Riot asked the woman.

  “Do it!” The female yelled, lifting her own weapon so it was in line with Riot’s face. “Do it now.”

  Riot ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, contemplating her options. But after running down a checklist of possibilities, including gunning the female Trilord down, she realized there was only one viable option. It was the same one she knew she had the moment she had decided to come on this mission.

  “Riot.” Deborah looked over to her. “Please.”

  “All right,” Riot said, nodding to the rest of her men. “Let’s do it.”

  “I never even got to use mine out in the field,” Vet said, deflating as he lowered his weapons to the ground.

  Wang placed both his weapons by his feet, followed by his grenade belt, molten blade, and throwing knives.

  Everyone waited as he pulled knife after knife from his person. He was like a magician performing an elaborate trick. The throwing knives came from his boots, his back, his sides, and a vest strapped on his chest.

  “There.” Deborah waited until he was done and every last weapon was on the ground. “We’ve done as you asked. Please, may we know your name?”

  “Kila.” The female head-motioned to the jungle on either side of the group. A dozen more Trilords materialized from the jungle depths. She looked at the male and female Trilords under her command. “Search them, then gather their weapons.”

  “The things I put up with when creating intergalactic alliances,” Riot muttered as she laced her fingers behind her head. “Be careful with the goods when you’re patting me down. They’re one hundred percent Made in America.”

  This got a snicker from her men. It was exactly what Riot was hoping for. Anything she could do at this moment to take away the humiliation any Marine would feel at losing his weapon and then being searched, she was willing to do.

  A brown-skinned male with a heavy, black beard and thick eyebrows strode toward Riot. His head was shaved, and he was built like a tank. He looked as tough as any of the other Trilords surrounding them, but when he placed his battle hammer to the side and began patting down Riot, his hands were surprisingly gentle.

  “You’re not my type.” The large Trilord grinned, showing his intimidating canines. “I prefer my women a bit larger.”

  “Whatever floats your boat, muchacho.” Riot shrugged. She died a little bit inside as she saw other members in the Trilords’ party scoop up their weapons. “Be careful with those. You don’t want to lose an eye.”

  Kila motioned to Vet. “Is that what happened to you?” There was no mirth in her voice as she asked what she thought was a very serious question. “Were you uncareful with these weapons and lost your eye?”

  “Something like that.” Vet shrugged.

  “May we be taken to your city now?” Deborah asked politely. “We’ve submitted ourselves to your rules. Surely you can see now we mean what we say. We’re here as friends.”

  “If that is true”—Kila eyed them for the dozenth time—“then time will tell. You are to be bound by the wrists, and then we will take you to the queen. She will decide what is to be done with you.”

  “Tied up?” Wang shook his head in disbelief. “Listen, lady, you already have our weapons, we basically surrendered to you. Unless you mean ‘tied’ as in some kind of kinky way, I’m going to have to take a hard pass on your offer.”

  “What is ‘kinky’?” Kila raised her brow. Her weapon lowered to the ground beside her. “I am unfamiliar with this word, and the translation doesn’t sound right.”

  “It means sexu—”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Deborah broke in, glaring daggers at Wang. “We’ll submit to your rules, if it allows us to speak with your queen.”

  Riot thought giving up her weapon was the hardest thing she had to do, but she was wrong. The same large Trilord who’d patted her down came to her and wove a thick, braided rope around her wrists. Other Trilords did the same to the rest of the squad.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t just kill them now?” one of the other female Trilords asked, looking over Riot and her crew with disgust. “Strangers have not brought us anything good. The others who arrived are the only reason we’re in this war to be—”

  “Enough.” Kila glared at her subordinate. “We will let the queen decide what is to be done with them.”

  Riot flexed her fingers as she tested the strength of the rope wrapped around her wrists. It was tight, but she could still feel her fingers. If things went sideways, she wouldn’t be able to slip out of her bonds. Her mind was already thinking of a strategy to get free if things di
d go bad.

  Worst case scenario, she’d go for the nearest Trilord carrying a bladed weapon. A quick, downward motion with her wrists against their blade and she would be free.

  “Let’s move out.” Kila nodded toward the other Trilords under her command, as well as to her new prisoners. “If we hurry, we can reach Silna in a few hours.”

  The group began their journey, with Kila in the lead. Riot and her group were flanked on either side as well as being followed by the bulk of the Trilord soldiers. As they trekked through the dense jungle, the dual suns began to lower behind the canopy of trees.

  Strange birds ranging from the size of hummingbirds to eagles floated by or came to rest on tree branches to gawk at the group of travelers. One massive, green bird with a tiny head and bulging eyes squawked at them. The noise sounded almost human in Riot’s ears.

  Riot and Deborah followed directly behind Kila. It didn’t surprise Riot in the least that Deborah took the opportunity to speak with the Trilord leader.

  “You said there were other visitors to the planet?” Deborah looked at Riot with wide eyes. “There’s a war going on?”

  Riot knew they were thinking the same thing. Were they too late? Had the coming force the Syndicate warned them about found Hoydren already?

  24

  “Where exactly did your ship land?” Kila asked in return. “If you want answers, then you must give answers in return.”

  Deborah looked over to Riot with a question in her eyes. Riot couldn’t see the harm in telling them. Their ship was locked up tight. She nodded.

  “We’re a mile or two into the jungle, from where you found us.” Deborah had related the information to Kila’s back as the Trilord continued to make progress through the jungle. “Now, what war are you talking about?”

  Kila looked over her shoulder for a moment. She shrugged to herself before looking back. “I will have you know that if you are spies, I will gut you myself and make a weave of your entrails.”

 

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