The Vanguard Emerges (Maraukian War Book 2)

  The Vanguard Moves

  Michael Chatfield

  Dawn Chapman

  Maraukian War

  Book 2

  Prologue

  The Core

  Unknown

  11/3353

  Major Operator Four exited from his living quarters, feeling nothing, as he had for his entire life. Yet, although he had completed his devotions—activities made to try to elicit a response—he had been unable to not think on the aspiring human race.

  They had created a sub-race, called mergers by many. They were biomechanical creatures, with an organic and inorganic mind shared by the organic’s body. They had moved onto the perceived third phase, changing themselves in order to attain victory.

  Operator Four doubted it would be long before they became efficient with their new abilities to attack the Sharventi.

  “Your plans have yielded results,” a worker said.

  Operator Four stopped. There was rank to keep order, but people cared for it little. Everyone knew everything. Guilt, lies: all of it was forgotten and unfelt.

  “Yes, it is promising.”

  “Yet now they go to their birth place. It is a pit of vipers. Do you not fear they may break apart and be unable to fight our genetics?” the worker asked, keeping the conversation alive for the prescribed seven taks that was customary.

  “Either they will band together and fight as one, or the mergers will make them, or they will fall apart.”

  “What about the hidden divisions found in those with the touch?” the worker asked. The touch referred to feelings.

  “Then we could have our war and they fall apart. I am not worried as long as it does not affect our plans. It will lead to their destruction. When, I cannot accurately calculate.” Operator Four turned and left, the seven taks up. He would spend his remaining taks until he was alerted to his body’s need of sleep reviewing information from his sensor platforms and the Maraukian uploaders.

  Chapter 1

  SLS Moby

  Moving Toward Earth, Sol System

  5/3354

  After being in transit for a few weeks, Sarah, Mark’s NIAI, disturbed his train of thought. “I’m picking up some back chatter on the EMF frequencies that you might find interesting.”

  Mark had been trying to escape capture and a brig when he put Sarah on his arm. Through a series of events, Mark was able to directly interface with Sarah and merge. Meaning he instantly accessed information Sarah gained from the massive storage banks of an NIAI and the Ninth Legion’s information database. It also had the added effect of speeding up his reaction time to twenty times their normal ability; thoughts became actions faster than a normal human could blink.

  Mark had destroyed two suits of Mars armor and had irreparably damaged himself as he defended Camp Epsilon when meeting aliens for the first time. Maraukians were genetically modified herd-centric creatures, eighteen feet tall from tail to snout and weighing over nine hundred pounds, all wanting to wipe humans from the planet and from the universe.

  Mark had fought them with the savage training he’d gained from hard lessons that still showed across his body in scars. Mark’s body had been pushed well beyond its limits, gaining him a stay in a nanite tank.

  “Go ahead.” His thoughts were recognized as messages.

  Sarah relayed the message directly through Mark’s auditory systems, making it seem as if the person talking was inside his head.

  “General Ortiz, this is Colonel Tei. The government has authorized all of us to assault the citadel.”

  Mark had Sarah patch in his direct subordinates Dodger, Jarek, Ava, Chyna, Evans and Rachel.

  “The citadel is the EMF headquarters.”

  Sarah translated his thoughts into words and sent it to those connected to the net automatically, in less than a millisecond; to any normal human, it would be a burst of static. The others on the net sent their feelings of acknowledgement. It was unexplainable; he just knew they understood and accepted the information.

  “Shit, I didn’t think that they’d approve it so fast, especially with the legion above us.” The man identified as General Ortiz growled.

  Mark was on close protection detail with his near quarter centuria of twenty-eight other mergers. They’d arrived in Sol system four months ago, getting not much more than a greeting party of fighters—which any of the five ships in their force could’ve ripped apart with ease—and the president of Earth and Her Colonies saying they were sorry but they’d have to wait as they were still dealing with the crisis on Gilese prime.

  Gilese prime was where Earth and Her Colonies found out that they were indeed not alone in the galaxy: there were aliens that were hell-bent on taking their planets over and figures from centuries in the past stepped out from nowhere.

  The Ninth Legion, recorded as killed in Scotland or moved to another area of Rome’s reach at the time by historians, suddenly reappeared to bail Gilese out and save them from the Maraukian herds that descended in their assault boats by the millions.

  “It seems that their corporate sponsors want protection so they’re clearing house. They’re using loyalty scans as well,” Sarah said to them all.

  Mark and Ortiz, a light-hour away from each other, hissed. Chyna gave Mark a questioning look.

  Sarah read him perfectly, cutting in the Legate of the Ninth, Damus, the man in charge of Roma’s legions.

  “Loyalty scanners scan a person to see if they’re lying or not and then implant a chip if they’re loyal to a person completely,” Mark explained, while Sarah used a step-down program so it was at a speed Damus would understand. “If that ever changes, the chip turns into a nasty nanite swarm, killing the host.”

  The mergers’ anger rose at this. Each of them knew the capabilities of nanites intimately and a human’s inability to account for loyalty, meaning that everyone who had a chip was basically already dead.

  “General, I believe there’s nothing more we can do,” Colonel Tei said.

  “Fuck, it was overboard when they made me make a damn plan to get one of those Phantoms. Fucking bastards.” Ortiz cursed. “Which reminds me, stop calling me General. I got a release after that.”

  Mark’s eyes flashed red with anger as memories seeped back of a shell of armor, plasma burns cutting into the armor so dark it was purple, and the headless suit. The first mergers they’d lost—Horlem and Freusht.

  Barely controlled fury raged over the mergers’ net. Mark could hear the ringing through the ship’s bulkheads as a few let their rage out.

  “How?”

  “I added it into the plan; if they used it, they fired me.”

  “Gener—”

  “Mister,” Ortiz corrected Colonel Tei.

  “Mister Ortiz,” the colonel said hurriedly. Obviously, the words sounded unnatural to the speaker. “You mean to say we’re being run by those bureaucratic bastards?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shit. They kept that from us too. You know what—fuck them. Fuck their tests; fuck their automatic retirement. I fucking quit.” Everyone on the channel saw as the paperwork for release was submitted. “As of now, retired Colonel Tei looking for employment, retired General Ortiz.”

  “Damn it, Sho!”

  “General, I think the first thing we need to get into order is the government.”

  “Sho, we’re the military—we obey orders.” Ortiz said harshly. Steel rang through his voice.

  “Yes, to protect the public. Not bureaucrats and their corporate owners.”

  “You may have a point there,” the general said, thinking before he reacted, “but there’s no telling what they might
do.”

  “Yes, but, I know I’d rather be a free man than in a military running loyalty checks and trying to get me to kill the people who saved one of our damned worlds.” Steel filled the colonel’s words.

  “Agreed.”

  “So as one free man to another, I think we need to tell the EMF what’s really going on. I believe it’s time to initiate plan TEXAS MIKE.”

  Goose bumps ran through Mark’s entire body, his eyes alight and hungry.

  “It may be time. I’ll call an emergency meeting.”

  “Sir.”

  ***

  The channel was cut, leaving the unknown participants on their net. Damus’s NIAI brought him up to speed on what had happened before they’d been added to the net.

  “What is the plan, Texas Mike?” Damus asked much slower than a merger would. His “normal” human brain, other than a few minor changes, seemingly took hours to them.

  “A plan created by the EMF. I can’t go into any more. The rest is classified. Though it might be an idea to be on alert.”

  “Understandable. Do you have any idea what might be happening in the near future?”

  Mark hesitated for a few seconds. “General Ortiz was the only respectable officer at that level. The rest were not much more than paid-off bureaucrats.” He said it as if he’d eaten something rotten. “With him leaving, most of the combat capable units will be in disarray. I would estimate that they will either leave as well, or they’ll wait to see which way the storm is blowing. To many, this is the only life they know except poverty. Those in non-combat capable units will stay as they are; they don’t want to lose what they have.”

  “What do you mean by combat capable units and not?”

  “Well, out of the entire EMF, there are about twenty percent of which are either good, useful, or can even fight in a battle. The rest either don’t have the training, are lazy, or just aren’t able or useful in a battle, about as useless as tits on a Maraukian bull.”

  “I’d heard they had a lot of issues but really, only twenty percent effective? How do they keep working?”

  “The combat capable units take on the shit details. They get shuttled around Earth and Her Colonies and only the time that they’re awake accounts for time served.” Earth and Her Colonies were still placing people into cryostasis and then sending them off in ships run by a limited smart AI to other star systems. The Ninth had been using jump drives, meaning they could travel the same distances in months instead of centuries.

  “What about the families they leave behind?” Damus demanded. Anger filled his voice.

  “Well, if they have a family on the first jump, that’ll solve them of it. By the time they come back, they’ll see their grandkids. Most are brought up as orphans though, so they don’t have family.”

  Damus grunted, clearly unhappy. “All right, keep monitoring the situation. Also, make sure that your Phantoms don’t pull anything apart we might need if you need to make a hasty exit.”

  “Understood, Legate.”

  “I’ll inform those who need to know. Damus out.”

  Mark felt the connection end. He pulled up his interface; symbols and windows appeared in front of him, configured to his personal style. The interface was projected through his eyes; to anyone else, his hands flew through the air erratically. To him, he was sending messages, checking on projects that had increased drastically as Phantoms had turned their attention to the ships they were staying on. Pulling them apart and upgrading them with the information they could access and testing out ideas they’d come up with. Phantoms were patient but if they could do something, they’d more than happily dive in.

  Mark flashed them all messages, telling them not to dive too deep and to make sure all ship-vital systems where ready. Simultaneously, he sent messages to the planet below through a network even the Ninth Legion wouldn’t be able to untangle. Satisfied, he closed his interface.

  “Ready?” he commed to Evan, switching through a few moves by himself as he waited.

  “Of course,” Evan commed back, grinning as he faced Mark. Even though they were face-to-face, Phantoms rarely ever talked audibly, preferring the faster net being able to instantly transfer information.

  Mark bent to get his dual nine-foot swords. The sensors that lined his body and nanite-formed PT gear alerted to a change in air pressure as Evan moved, using the distraction to his advantage. Mark placed his hands on the hilts of his swords and threw himself into the air and over Evan, who’d turned from his forward lunge. Their swords, with blunting fields, flashed as they attacked each other. Mark landed back on his feet, not missing a stroke as he measured up Evan’s offensive and defensive moves. He feinted left, smacking Evan’s swords out of the way as he used the momentum to turn.

  Evan’s foot flashed out.

  As his nanites formed a sword, Mark adjusted his left blade, catching the foot and preventing it from ripping his side apart. Holding Evan’s two swords as he completed his turn, Mark stomped down on Evan’s foot with a flick while, with a slide, he brought his left sword from the inside of Evan’s blades. He let the other man’s momentum turn him as his guard changed to the outside and his right blade tapped Evan’s head.

  They unlocked themselves as their nanites cleared their lungs and plasma of excess carbon in seconds, repairing any bruises from the burst of activity. The two weren’t even breathing hard.

  “You’ve got to remember that you won’t always be the strongest person in a fight. Don’t try to force a win. Your determination to open me up when you had two blades against my one led to your downfall. Remember to back off and re-evaluate. The situation is always in flux; never expect it to stay the same.”

  “I understand, sir,” Evan said in a thoughtful tone.

  Mark could tell he did and then grinned. “Don’t expect to get that dirty trick in again.”

  “What dirty trick?” Evan’s eyes twinkled, a ghost of a grin on his face.

  “Again?”

  “You bet.” They both lowered themselves into fighting positions, studying each other.

  After Mark and Evan finished their sparring, the two of them got back into their armor and said their good-byes.

  “How is the track looking?” Mark asked.

  “Flight plan is clear to the Yard,” Sarah said.

  Mark continued through the ship. The armor made it hard for anyone who wasn’t a merger to figure out just who was inside.

  He checked his flight plan and made his way to an air lock. His armor was already fully sealed as he hacked the controls, stepping through one doorway and then sealing the hatch and pumping out the air. Moments later, the second hatch opened, revealing the inky darkness that was space.

  “Ava, look after things while I’m gone. I shouldn’t be more than five days,” Mark said over the net as he jumped free of the ship. His gravity drive fired up as he shot away from the Moby.

  “Mark, where the hell are you going?” Ava demanded, her voice panicked.

  “Going to see some of my family. Don’t worry. I’ll get a ride back.” Mark hadn’t told anyone what his plans were. He disappeared into the void, unseen and undetected by the vessels that watched over the legion ships.

  Chapter 2

  The Yard

  Inner Sol System

  5/3354

  Jerome opened the hatch to his office. His eyes thinned as his hand dropped to the pistol on his leg.

  “At least you’ve still got Coheleans.” The voice was so familiar, shivers ran down Jerome’s spine.

  “Who are you?” Jerome’s hand was on the butt of his pistol, ready to draw on the man who stood behind his chair, looking at the pictures that covered the wall.

  There were pictures of Mark, Tyler, Alexis, and Mark and the Triple-Twos as they celebrated Alexis and Tyler’s wedding. In the background, one could even see Ice Man Nerva cracking a smile.

  There were two identical blades on stands: an EMF trooper’s standard E12, showing wear and tear of use, and an armor plate
with a piece of metal sticking through it.

  The massive frame of a man turned around. Standing there with a cigar hanging out of his mouth was none other than Mark Victor, a man Jerome saw as his own brother. They’d gone through battles and wars across five different systems together.

  “Seems you’ve been doing well with the corporation, Jerome.” Mark let out a fragrant puff of smoke as he pulled the cigar from his lips.

  “Who are you?” Jerome demanded, recovering from shock. His hope turned into rage. Mark was dead.

  “Don’t make me smack you round the head!” Mark pointed his cigar at Jerome. “Though I guess my dead ass showing up is a bit of an eye-opener, yeah?”

  Mark didn’t care about how close Jerome was to drawing his side arm when he moved his chair back and slumped down in on it. It groaned with his weight.

  “I guess I need to explain a few things to you.” Mark took a puff of the cigar, organizing his thoughts. He let out a smoke-filled sigh and then started at the beginning. From that moment when he had turned away from Alexis and Tyler, leaving them to have a lover’s moment as he saw to the cleanup of the Harmony War that had concluded in the citadel.

  Jerome had sat down on one of the couches, his pistol in hand as Mark told him everything, leaving nothing out. He listened to it all, in a state of shock over the twists and turns of Mark’s story.

  After it was done, Mark stood, walking around the table as he pulled off his black fatigue shirt. He moved his lower clothing, showing his scar-covered body as well as his tattoos.

  Jerome looked over the tattoos. Memories came back as he remembered where Mark had gained a number of them, the tattoos in the same place and identical to how they’d been.

  Jerome was overcome with emotions. He broke down and cried as he let go of his pistol, sobbing into his hands.

  Mark tapped him on the back before Jerome stood and hugged him.

  “Oi, watch the cigar—this is a true Cohelean, you know! Took me some time to find your hidden stash!” Mark said, but his heart wasn’t in the words as he, too, choked up seeing Jerome once again.