MARINE
The last empire
By Nick S. Thomas
Copyright © 2019 by Nick S. Thomas
Published by Swordworks Books
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Prologue
Rapid and successful expansion across the known universe has allowed propelled the Pritoris Empire to untold wealth and success. Hundreds of years of unprecedented development has led to fringe worlds far beyond the borders of the inner planets. A young Marine officer is en route to his first posting on a frontier world. A world inhabited by a tribal and warlike people. Some of which serve the Empire, while others resist and fight against its spread.
Chapter 1
The small shuttle departed from a large transport vessel in orbit over an arid looking planet.
“You ever been to Rhamprox before?” The co-pilot was addressing the young officer.
Fresh-faced and enthusiastic, but also in awe of everything new he was experiencing. He wore his red uniform tunic with pride, his name, King; printed on the dark grey, rigid cuirass armour that protected his torso. The co-pilot squinted as he looked at the name again.
“King? I heard about a King. Got himself into all kinds of trouble a few weeks back. A gunboat written off, a political incident.”
“Yeah, that was all over the news,” replied the pilot as he continued to direct them toward the surface.
King smiled as he shook his head. “My cousin. Hell of a fighter, but he sure can make a mess of things. Could have gone right into officer training with me if he’d kept his mouth shut a little more often.”
“You’re gonna catch some heat for that,” replied the pilot, chuckling to himself.
“Rhamprox, you were saying?” King asked the co-pilot as he checked over his rifle. It was a metre and a half long, with narrow furniture around a matt black barrel. It looked more like a close combat weapon than a rifle, but a long stubby magazine protruded from the receiver, and a small telescopic sight arose from the top.
“It’s an old world with an old people.”
“The Prians? I’ve studied them.”
“A tough people, simple in some ways, but far from stupid. Their devotion to some of their causes and deities is legendary.”
“Rumour has it they can’t feel pain,” added the pilot.
“Is that true?” King asked.
“Maybe. Some say they can feel it, but they don’t care. You ever met one?”
“No,” he replied, thinking about what that might be like, “I’ve studied this world and its people, but I’ve yet to experience it.”
“Yeah, well you’ll meet them soon enough. We’re heading for Horproxa. That’s a frontier town right out there on the edge of civilisation. This your first off-world posting?”
“Yes,” he replied quietly, almost as if embarrassed.
“Hell of a place to get started. I hope you’re ready to hit the ground running, because this isn’t a forgiving place.”
“I’ll do my duty,” he replied confidently.
But there was fear in his face, fear of the unknown, but also for his own ability to rise to the occasion. He drew in a deep breath, realising his whole life had been leading up to this moment. He had a lot to live up to, and a lot of responsibility resting on his shoulders.
“You’ll be fine down there. Just don’t trust the Prians as far as you can throw them.”
“Which isn’t far,” the co-pilot laughed.
They entered the atmosphere to be hit with near blinding light reflecting from the sand and stark rock faces as their small shuttle darted rapidly towards the surface. Small towns and villages littered the landscape, but they were primitive compared to everything he knew. There was greenery, but everything looked dry and near barren. Tall rock formations and canyons divided the landscape. He could see one tower reaching high in to the sky, and that was something he recognized. It was a space elevator, providing passage from the main Empire stronghold on the surface up into orbit above. But they soon turned away from it and soared out into the vast emptiness that appeared as little more than wastelands for as far as the eye could see.
“Get used to this view. It’s going to be home for the next six months.”
King couldn’t tell if the pilot was joking or not.
“Have either of you ever been stationed here?”
“Hell, no. A few layovers, but if staying in a place like this was what service for the Empire looked like, I’d have gone commercial years ago.”
That wasn’t exactly reassuring, but then he didn’t expect a pilot to understand the work of a soldier, and he was too new to begin arguing with them. The pilot brought them in low and slowed their approach.
“This is it,” he said.
They came up over a ridge, and there it was before them, a sprawling primitive town. None of the buildings were more than three storeys tall, except for one. A walled off military facility on the far side that was completely at odds with the town surrounding it. It was the first and only thing on the surface that was familiar to King. The same walled outpost structures that were built all across the Empire, even on his homeworld. It was a compound designed as much to provide a defensive facility, as it was to impose the will and might of the Empire.
He could see a dozen troops going through rifle exercises, but they weren’t like soldiers he’d seen before.
“Rhepoys. Prians who serve the Empire.”
“I know, but I’ve never seen them with my own eyes,” said King in amazement.
They were still too far out to get a good view, but even from the cockpit he could see they were larger built than the Human instructor working with them. These creatures were foreign to him; quite literally alien, for none of them had ever stepped foot on his world. The pilot brought them in to land and kicked up an enormous cloud of dust, so that they lost sight of all that was around them. They touched down smoothly, and as the engines powered down, the dust began to settle as the ramp at the back of the craft lowered. The dust wafted in through the opening, as well as a blast of hot air.
King leapt to his feet, but was immediately struck by the wall of hot air. In a few steps his energy levels dropped, but he ignored it as he stepped out onto the landing pad. He was already sweating, and he could feel the dust clinging to his face and throat. As much as it dried his mouth, it also smelt sweet and quite inviting.
“Bhanza, that’s what you’re smelling.” The pilot stepped up beside him. King had no idea what he was talking about, “The locals grow it, smoke it, eat it. It can be quite the intoxicating narcotic.”
“Isn’t that banned?”
“In the central planets sure, but out here, not all the rules apply.”
King spotted a captain passing by. He’d wondered about the practicality of their red jackets in such an environment, and for a moment he hadn’t even realised the Captain was wearing the same. It was so faded and covered in dust and sand it blended in with everything else he was wearing, so that he might as well be
wearing sand-coloured gear.
“Lieutenant Joseph King reporting for duty, Sir.” King snapped to attention.
The captain didn’t even break stride, shot a short comment off, and kept on about his business. “Report to the CO,” he said, pointing to a building.
It wasn’t exactly a warm welcome, but he knew he had to suck it up.
“Clear the way!” A voice roared out with the hoarse call that could only come from a hard driving NCO. King leapt back as a troop of Rhepoys marched past. They were an intimidating sight. They were no taller than he was but built more robustly. They wore the yellow tunics of Rhepoy troops. Though in the faded sun and sand, they looked little different to the captain he’d seen moments before.
The aliens were like nothing he’d seen before. Images and video didn’t do them justice. Their skin was quite pale and dry, not tanned like a Human would be in the same environment. It was as if the sun had bleached their skin. They showed little emotion and looked ready to go to war. They carried the old pattern rifle, the Edgeland K8, a weapon phased out for Empire Marines years before he had enlisted. It was shorter but also much bulkier than his Aquilla Q2. A more refined weapon, that was both a projectile and close quarters fighting system in one. The Rhepoys also carried their traditional blades on their sides, the Firanwar. It looked positively medieval to King’s eyes. A crooked blade under a metre long that curved forward like a scythe. A narrow guard stretched over to the pommel with three steel spikes protruding from it like some vicious knuckleduster. Even the pommel was another spike, so that all elements of the tool were a weapon. Despite how crude it looked, King felt intimidated by such a brutal looking device.
As the line of alien soldiers filed past, he caught a glimpse of the sergeant who was ordering them on. For a moment they made eye contact. He was nearly twice King’s age, a confident and experienced veteran, his tunic was as faded as the captain’s had been. He had a large scar running down his face and a pot-marked burnt neck. He looked like he’d seen a lot of action. His faded nametag read ‘Stone,’ and that perfectly represented his demeanour.
“Sir!” He brought his hand across his body to salute without breaking stride. It was clear to King that it was a formality because he followed the rules. There was no respect for him as a man, only the pips on his fresh uniform. As they shuffled past, King sighed.
It’s going to be a battle to be taken seriously here.
“Move it, move it!” Sergeant Stone roared.
His troop of twelve Rhepoys formed up beside a fully enclosed wheeled vehicle, an Otter, a simple armoured personal carrier for use on frontier worlds. Simple and cheap to manufacture and maintain, it was primitive, but it got the job done. It had twin rear axles with airless honeycomb like tyres. Enough armour to stop small arms fire and a wide armoured glass cockpit up front giving great visibility. Stone went quickly up and down the line, checking their equipment until he was finally satisfied. He was naturally blond, but coated with so much dust you’d barely know it. He was well tanned from a long service on the scorching hot world.
“We have received word of trouble at Outpost 43. We’ve lost contact. Our job is to investigate. Re-establish communication, is that clear?”
“Sergeant, are we expecting a fight?” Sandu, the Naider of the squad, the Rhepoy equivalent of a Corporal asked.
He was eager to please, although those beside him didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm.
“We don’t know what to expect. This should be nothing more than a routine mission to re-establish communication. As you know, weather conditions on the surface can lead to equipment failure and signal loss for all sorts of reasons. We had reports of a sandstorm in the area. That could be it, but be ready for anything. Questions?” He wasn’t expecting or wanted to have to answer any, and so paused for a second before barking his orders, “Load up. Move out!”
Sandu led one fireteam into the Otter beside them, while he led the other to another vehicle ahead of it. He slipped his hand into the handle of the side door and pulled it open by hand. Like everything else on the Otters, it was simple tech, but reliable. He stepped inside and climbed into the driver’s seat. The cockpit like field of vision gave a near one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view ahead. He hit a few buttons on the console before him.
“Sandu, you ready to roll?”
“Affirmative, Sergeant,” his voice rang out from a speaker above Stone.
Stone touched the foot starter, and then there was a whirling noise. It sounded like some kind of turbine firing up. He put his foot on the accelerator, and the sound of large motors whining echoed around the cockpit as they got into motion. He navigated them out of the facility towards a gate that was already parting as they approached. Armed guards lay in wait on towers either side of the structure, both his own kin. He looked back at the Rhepoys he had with him. They were a tough bunch, but they hardly made for good conversation. He got the impression none of them were too pleased to be led by him. He didn’t let that get in the way of things, though.
“With any luck this is nothing more than routine, but you never know, you might get lucky and see some action,” he said with a smile as he looked back at them.
There was no response as they looked at him blindly.
“Great, gonna be a long run,” he muttered to himself and turned back to the road.
He could hear the troops behind him murmuring in their own language. He’d tried to understand it at first, soon gave up. It sounded like complete gibberish to him, and he could barely distinguish individual words to even begin to translate and make sense of it. They were dependant on the non-commissioned officers like Sandu to bridge the gap between him and the troops, just as the officers had to. In fact, he shouldn’t even have been the one leading such an operation, but that was the current state of things.
They’d been driving for hours, and he’d not got a single word out of those behind him as they continued to converse in their own tongue. It didn’t fill him with confidence.
Should I order them all to speak our language?
But he knew that wasn’t his call to make. They were coming up over a hill, and the skies above were thick with swirling sand. They reached the crest to see a storm brewing ahead. Sand was swirling around violently and visibility was poor.
“Shit!”
He brought them to a stop and quickly checked the map displayed on a screen beside him. He looked back up to see a rock outcrop and a canyon leading into it.
“It’s gonna add an hour, but at least we’ll get through.” He depressed the accelerator once again and veered off to the west, heading for the sanctuary of the canyon as the storm picked up. As they approached, he could see the wall of swirling sand heading there. He’d seen similar situations enough times to know it wasn’t somewhere he wanted to be.
“Oh, hell no.” He put his foot to the floor. The Otter had powerful motors, but it was also built robustly and armoured. They accelerated at a slow but steady pace. They were a hundred metres from the opening when the sand began to lash the side of the vehicle. Fifty metres further and the right side of their vehicle lifted off the ground. It smashed back down to the sand. The Rhepoys were thrown about in their seats, but none complained and maintained their usual stoic manner. Stone wrestled with the wheel as they crashed back down and veered into the storm. He pulled it back and pushed hard with his foot to find the accelerator was flat on the floor. They were lashed by winds and sand once more as the view of the canyon ahead began to vanish, and visibility dropped to a couple of metres. But Stone stayed the course; confident he had it right. He took a deep breath, and a moment later they burst through the sands and into the sanctuary of the canyon. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Why in the hell did we ever come to this god-awful place?”
He meant to think it, but soon realised he’d said it loud enough for a few of those at his back to hear. He grit his teeth and went on, knowing there was no saving it now. He didn’t much like them either, so he smil
ed and carried on, relieved to be back in control of his vehicle. It was then he thought to look in the rear-view screen above to check for the other half of the squad. They were right behind.
“All right, let’s get this crap done,” he said angrily.
He’d never say it, but he didn’t want to be there, and everyone knew it. He was a veteran Marine and a hard taskmaster, wasted on a frontier world where seemingly nothing mattered. Yet he was trained and bred to follow orders, and that’s what he did above all else. They carried on through the canyon for a kilometre when finally, he could see the end of it and open ground.
“Well look at that.” He could see clearly with perfect visibility all the way to the outpost. His smile turned to a frown as he noticed smoke rising from it. His gut told him something was terribly wrong, but he didn’t have time to contemplate it. A huge flash lit up the view before him as an almighty explosion ignited beside their vehicle. It was a deafening blast. He felt an almighty force strike him as they were thrown violently into the air. The mounts of his driver’s seat were blown apart, and he was thrown to the roof. In the split second he had to think as he flew through the air, he wondered if it was his end. It felt like it.
I don’t want to die in this shithole.
His head smashed hard onto the armour of the vehicle, and he lost consciousness immediately. But this was not his time to die, not yet. Stone opened his eyes and gasped for air. He could hear gunfire, but it was muted. It wasn’t the walls of their vehicle dulling the sound, but his hearing still recovering from the blast. He could see the light of day from where he’d fallen. A metre-wide hole had been blown in the side of the vehicle so that they were exposed to the elements. Gunfire zipped back and forth in the opening. Three of the Rhepoys were dead, riddled with shrapnel. The others were nowhere to be seen. He tried to get up but found he was strapped to the driver’s seat. He reached for the release, but it was jammed. More worryingly he spotted two shards of metal embedded in his armour, one at his chest, and the other close to his hip. A few centimetres lower and it would have gone right into his body.
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