Ronin (The Pike Chronicles Book 3)

Book 3 of The Pike Chronicles

G.P. Hudson

© 2015

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The Pike Chronicles
:

Sol Shall Rise – Book 1 of The Pike Chronicles

Prevail – Book 2 of The Pike Chronicles

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in the book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form, other than for review purposes, without the permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

Cover art by Justin Adams

Standing on the Chaanisar Bridge, Jon felt as though a colony of fire ants scurried across his limbs. Several weeks had passed since their rescue from DLC station, yet he still couldn’t get used to the fact that he was on a Chaanisar ship. After a lifetime fighting against them he didn’t think he ever would.

Everywhere he turned he saw the Juttari, the aliens he was born and bred to kill. The conquerors and oppressors of the human race. Everywhere he looked he saw their script. Every inch of the ship was defaced with their symbols. The ship’s very existence was an affront to all notions of humanity.

Worse still was its crew. The ultimate abomination. The Chaanisar. Once human, they were stolen from their families as children, violated with alien technology, robbed of all free will, and forced to serve their alien masters.

Turned against their own kind, they committed the most heinous atrocities in human history. Years ago he had taken a vow to kill any Chaanisar that crossed his path. Yet here he stood, on a Chaanisar bridge. No matter how hard he tried to justify it, one dreadful word confronted him again and again.

Collaborator.

His rational mind continuously reminded him that these Chaanisar had revolted and slain their Juttari masters. These Chaanisar had fought for and rescued his Marines. They rescued Breeah, her daughter Anki, and the rest of the surviving Reivers. They even continued to search for and rescue the remaining members of his crew.

His best friend and security chief, Kevin St. Clair, believed in them. He fought side by side with them. He vouched for their sincerity. To Kevin, they were valiantly trying to recapture their humanity. It was a noble cause, worthy of support. At least that was Kevin’s opinion.

Jon only saw enemy. Atrocity. Chaanisar.

“We will be jumping to our new search coordinates in two minutes,” said Colonel Bast, commander of the Chaanisar ship.

Jon simply nodded, his skin still twitching, invisible swarms of insects crawling across every inch. A wary truce existed between the Colonel and Jon. Colonel Bast tried hard to win Jon’s respect, and under other circumstances Jon would have gladly given it. The man was a born commander, better than most he’d encountered. But every time Jon looked at his uniform he was reminded that Bast was Chaanisar. No matter how hard he tried, that reminder always triggered an old, deeply rooted fury.

“Did I miss anything, Captain?” said Kevin St. Clair as he strode onto the bridge, his height and hulking frame unmistakable. Jon had served with Kevin on countless missions, and he was one of the best operators he knew. He couldn’t think of any other man he would rather go into battle with.

“We’re about to jump to the next search vector,” said Jon, some of the edge lifting now that his friend had arrived.

“Good. Let’s hope our lucky streak keeps going.” Kevin, crossed his powerful arms in front of his chest.

With each search they had recovered more members of the Hermes crew. Their numbers had swelled and Jon felt good about their prospects. They had been very lucky, and they both knew it. What they needed was a ship of their own.
One step at a time
, Jon reminded himself. They still had people to find.

The lights on the bridge dimmed, signaling they were about to jump. “Here we go,” said Jon, feeling a pang of anxiety in his belly. He dreaded the thought of finding dead crewmembers. He was responsible for the fate of every single one of them. His decisions scattered them across this region of space, a thousand light years away from home. The guilt was his alone.

The stars on the ship’s viewscreen were replaced by a large planet as the ship completed its jump. It looked similar to Earth, with oceans and continents covering its surface. Jon ground his teeth together as he waited for the scan results. Beside him Kevin exhaled sharply, showing his own impatience.

“Picking up Space Force beacon,” said the Chaanisar officer. “Signal is coming from the planet’s surface.”

“Hell yeah,” said Kevin, sharing the relief Jon felt. “Lady Luck is still on our side.”

“Let’s go suit up,” said Jon, smiling. “We’ve got people waiting for us down there.” Jon and Kevin turned and headed for the exit. Ever since he came on board he had personally led every ground based rescue mission. Bast had initially resisted. He believed that the away missions should be a mix of Space Force and Chaanisar. He wanted the crews to learn how to work together. But Jon insisted. They were his people and his responsibility. In the end Bast relented and the rescue missions became a Space Force operation.

“Contact,” announced the Chaanisar tactical officer, stopping Jon and Kevin in their tracks. “Picking up Kemmar warship orbiting the planet.”

“Damn it,” said Jon, spinning around. “They’re going after the escape pod. We’ve got to get down there.”

“Agreed,” said Bast. “Prepare your team for insertion and leave the warship to me.”

As Jon headed for the exit he was once again impressed with Colonel Bast.
If only he wasn’t Chaanisar
, he thought as he left.

Jon sat on the steps of his back porch, watching his mother tend to her small vegetable garden. It wasn’t much, but it provided fresh produce for the family, supplementing the meat Jon and his father brought home from their hunts. Up here in the mountains that usually meant elk, deer, and the odd moose. It also meant being away for days at a time, something Jon never felt comfortable with. While he knew his mother was a capable woman, he hated leaving her by herself. Whether they were hunting for food, or hunting the enemy, it still meant leaving their home vulnerable.

It wasn’t that his mother couldn’t fight. She was as fierce as any man. She had taught Jon much of what he knew, especially what she called the “intimate arts”. This was how she referred to fighting with a blade. A gun, no matter what type, was impersonal. It killed from a distance. Whereas with a blade you were close enough to smell the target’s last meal on his breath. She could protect herself. Of that there was no doubt. Still, if the enemy came in numbers while they were gone….

All these years, the resistance remained one step ahead. The vast mountain forests helped them stay hidden. They regularly changed locations, never staying in one place too long. Most important were their mobile bio suppressors. The bio suppressors established a perimeter around their location, masking their biological signatures from any satellites or drones searching the area. If a drone were to fly by all its sensors would see was forest. They were careful, and they were still alive.

“Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to pitch in and give your poor old mother a hand?” she said, using her forearm to wipe her brow.

“You’re hardly old, mom,” said Jon, getting up from his perch. He reached into the air and effortlessly caught the garden hoe she threw at him.

“Compared to you I’m old. If anyone should be relaxing it should be me. Now bring that thing over here and make yourself useful.” She pointed to a patch of soil that needed breaking up.

Jon smiled and quietly followed his mother’s instructions. He seized the hoe with both hands, swung it over his head and down towards the ground, digging the long slender blade into the dirt and pulling up the soil underneath. He repeated the movement as his mother watched. The exertion felt good and relieved some of the tension that had been building in his shoulders.

“Are you ready?” she asked, scrutinizing him.

The question made him swing harder as anger fueled his labor. He knew she was asking about the upcoming raid he was going on. “I’m ready.”

“Good. It’s a bold plan, but we need to be bold if we can ever hope to defeat the Juttari.”

“The Governor won’t know what hit him,” said Jon, swinging so hard he wondered if the wooden shaft would break.

“Never mind all that,” she chastised. “Arrogance will get you killed. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, mom. I understand,” Jon said, losing some of his intensity.

His mother studied him carefully, then nodded. “I hate that you have to go on raids at your age, but these are the times we live in. This is the cost of freedom.”

“I know mom.”

“If you’re prepared and careful you have a better chance of coming home alive.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You mean you’ll be careful.”

“I’ll be careful.” He could see how worried she was, despite her hardened exterior. The last thing he wanted to do was add to her stress by being argumentative, even though he wished she trusted him more. He had been on several raids already, and always came back uninjured, yet before each raid she acted like it was his first time out.

He swung the hoe again with all his strength, letting go of his frustration as it impacted with the ground. He may be only fourteen years old, but he had already killed. Both his father and grandfather said he was a man, no less than any other man in their cell. His mother, however, still looked at him like a boy.

It was irritating and comforting at the same time. The boy inside him was quickly slipping away, yet part of him still wanted to hold on. For all his bravado, deep down inside he still wanted fun and games. The man in him took hold and blocked that train of thought, scoffing at his weakness. He brought the hoe down again with all his might, crushing the resistance of the hardened earth.

“I wish I could come with you,” she said.

“I wish you could too, mom.”

She dropped her shoulders and sighed. “I’ll only slow you down. This damn injury makes me a liability.”

“You can still fight as well as anyone else.”

She smiled at the compliment. “Unfortunately I can’t run as well as anyone else.” There was a rare hint of sadness in her voice. He knew it weighed heavily on her that she couldn’t participate in the raids anymore. That she couldn’t protect him.

“Don’t worry, mom. If all goes well we’ll be bringing you back a present.”

“Yes, a big fat traitorous present. I’ve sharpened a special welcoming gift just for him. I hope he likes it.”

Jon stepped into his combat suit. As it powered on it instantly sensed his body. The hard, flexible material wrapped around him and locked into place, covering his entire body. He lifted his arm, the movement creating a low whining sound, and squeezed his metal clad hand into a fist. He immediately felt the increased strength the suit gave him. The Chaanisar combat suits were designed to take advantage of the super human Chaanisar abilities. While this didn’t make a difference for the rest of his team, it meant that he could augment the superior strength and speed the symbiont had empowered him with to achieve astounding results. When the helmet stretched over his head and face his HUD lit up. It displayed tactical and diagnostic information about the condition of his suit, his vitals, and those of his team.

His team of Marines included Kevin, Sergeant Henderson, Privates Chan, Reynolds, Burke, Johns and Daniels. They were all combat veterans and were well armed with rail guns, energy weapons, grenades, and ion blades. His display identified Kevin, who had already suited up. Looking back at Jon, Kevin flashed him a big metallic thumbs up. Jon stepped forward, his boots creating a thundering echo with each step, and surveyed his team. All were suited and many were checking their weapons. They were all good men and he would take a bullet for any of them.

He nodded to Kevin who gave the command to board. Each Marine stepped up to the waiting transport, the stomp of their bulky boots reverberating across the platform. They lumbered inside the small craft, their massive frames almost too big for it. Along the walls were seats specifically designed for the combat suits. One by one they turned and fell heavily into their seats. Loud bangs rang out as each suit was bolted into place, announcing the safety of everyone on board.

Bast’s voice came through Jon’s helmet as he took his own seat. “Captain Pike. We will jump into orbit around the planet, a safe distance from the Kemmar warship, so that your team can enter the atmosphere without taking fire. We will then engage the warship.”

“Understood,” said Jon, giving his weapons a final inspection.

The shuttle’s hatch closed. The lights dimmed. A display lit up revealing the exterior. Jon watched as the transport taxied across the hangar bay and prepared to launch. A message flashed across his visor indicating that the ship had jumped, followed by another stating that they were clear to launch. Jon felt the thrust of the shuttle’s engines as they surged forward, out of the Chaanisar ship. The craft vibrated as it accelerated, and hurtled towards the planet below. Turbulence punctuated the craft’s entry into the atmosphere. The display glowed red and orange, as the transport briefly turned into a streaking, blazing fireball. As they finally punched through the atmosphere, the flames parted to reveal an unblemished blue sky.

The shuttle raced through the air towards the Space Force beacon. Jon brought the signal up on his HUD. It was located in the middle of a large continental land mass. He didn’t know what condition the pod was in, but was glad that it didn’t end up in one of the oceans. Under less hostile circumstances this would be an easy retrieval. Unfortunately, that meant the Kemmar wouldn’t have any difficulty finding it either.

Swooping down over the pod’s location, Jon was surprised to find that the Kemmar hadn’t gotten there first. He had fully expected a hot landing zone. Could it be possible that the Kemmar hadn’t yet sent a landing party down to retrieve the life pod? Could it be possible they didn’t know about the life pod? Jon wondered what the odds were that the Kemmar warship in orbit was merely a coincidence. He didn’t think they were very good.

The life pod sat in the middle of an open field. The transport landed nearby. The combat suits were released from their safety locks and the hatch opened. Wasting no time the troopers poured out of the craft. They quickly took defensive positions around the transport and pod. In seconds they were all on the ground, rail guns shouldered. Jon scanned the landscape. There was very little in terms of vegetation. No trees or plants, just dirt, which the wind whipped up in dusty, swirling clouds.

“What do you think, Captain?” said Kevin.

“I don’t like it,” said Jon. He scanned the horizon looking for threats. At first he saw nothing, but then his HUD came to life identifying a Kemmar shuttle. To the naked eye it was only a speck in the sky, but the intricate sensors built into the combat suit’s optics easily identified the craft.

“Contact,” said Jon. All eyes turned towards the horizon. They had their answer. The Kemmar were coming. With Bast fighting the Kemmar warship in orbit, they couldn’t simply fly back to the ship. They would have to stay put until the space battle was over. They would have to make a stand.

“Let’s get these people out of there before the Kemmar show up,” Jon said to Kevin. He stepped up to the life pod and banged on the hatch with his large metal glove. “This is Captain Jon Pike of the Hermes. Open your hatch. We are here to rescue you.”

“You should retract your helmet, so they don’t think you’re Chaanisar,” said Kevin.

“Right. Thanks,” said Jon, pulling his helmet and visor back to expose his face.

The life pod’s hatch unlocked with a hiss as the interior depressurized. It extended out of the pod and swung open with a whine and a creak. Jon stood in front of the doorway and waited. A dark haired woman emerged from the opening. Jon recognized her as Ensign Zakarian, one of Doctor Ellerbeck’s medical officers. Her appearance was disheveled, her uniform speckled with earth, as if she had been digging. When she recognized the Captain she stood at attention and saluted.

Jon returned the salute and said, “At ease, Ensign.”

Zakarian relaxed and said, “Captain, I can’t believe it. I didn’t expect anyone to find me here.”

“Well, we’re not the only ones who found you, Ensign.”

She gave Jon a confused look.

“The Kemmar are here, too.”

Her eyes widened and fear spread across her face. “The Kemmar? How?”

“It doesn’t matter. We don’t have much time. Who else is with you?”

“It’s just me, Captain. Ensign Jacobs was with me, but he had been badly injured when we abandoned the Hermes. He took a couple of energy blasts in the back. I used the medical gel on his wounds, but his injuries were too severe. He died a short time after we landed. I buried his body over there,” she said, pointing to a mound in the distance.

“Contact!” said Henderson. “Twelve o’clock.”

Jon swung around but didn’t see anything without his helmet in place. Regardless, they were coming whether he could see them or not.

“Time to move, Ensign,” Jon said to Zakarian. “Get into the transport. It’s armored. You’ll be safe in there.” Jon led her through the transport’s hatch. Inside the craft he handed her one of the extra rail guns on board. “Just in case,” he said.

She gripped it apprehensively. As a medical officer she would not have seen much combat, but she would have still received weapons training. Jon was confident she knew enough to defend herself if the need arose.

Turning, he walked out of the craft, closed the hatch, and dropped his helmet back down over his face. His HUD lit up, identifying a line of Kemmar soldiers advancing on their position. They were moving fast. His HUD clocked them at two kilometers per minute. That was similar to what a human could do in a combat suit. The Chaanisar could hit higher speeds due to their augmentation, and Jon could move even faster.

The Kemmar were committing to a direct attack using traditional shock tactics. They intended to hit his men fast and hard in order to create confusion and fear. If the human line collapsed and his men tried to retreat, the Kemmar would cut them all down in short order. Jon wondered who they were used to fighting against. Certainly not Space Force Marines. Jon shouldered his rail gun and took a knee. He counted twenty. They were outnumbered. Every bullet would have to count.

“Hold your fire,” said Jon. His troopers had spread out and established a defensive line. There wasn’t much to use for cover. There were a few outcroppings of rock that a couple of the men lay behind. It wasn’t much but every little bit would help. They avoided using the transport itself as cover, since they didn’t want to draw enemy fire at it. Not only was the survivor on board, but it was also their ride off the planet.

Jon’s targeting sensor turned green as the aliens came into range. “Fire!” he shouted. The Marine line exploded with rail gun fire, ripping into the enemy ranks. The Kemmar in the front took most of the damage. Their suits withstood the first salvo, but soon cracks started to appear in their armor. Light leaked out of the fissure points as their suits leaked energy. Yet they kept coming.

The leaking light gave the Marines a better target, and they focused their fire on the weakening combat suits. Under the weight of the rail gun fire the cracks turned into chasms, allowing the bullets to pierce the flesh hiding underneath. Kemmar soldiers started to fall.

Jon lined up one of the creatures and squeezed off a shot, hitting it in the chest. Not enough to break the armor. It kept coming and he fired off another one. He hit the suit in the same spot and a crack began to form, causing a glimmer of light to escape. Jon didn’t release the trigger. He drilled into the Kemmar’s chest until the combat suit ruptured and the creature fell face first onto the hard dirt.

Jon didn’t hesitate. He lined up a second soldier and fired, hitting it in the helmet. Again it kept coming, but Jon continued firing, and a fissure formed down the center. He kept his aim steady and pored fire into the creature’s skull until it too dropped. There was a flash of red and his HUD told him his suit had taken some damage, its integrity now down to eighty percent. The enemy was returning fire.

Vicious red bolts of energy streaked at the Marines from the Kemmar weapons. The upper corner of his HUD displayed a series of statistics informing him of the hits taken by his men and the damage caused. The fact that the aliens were firing from a full out run minimized the damage. Multiple shots missed their targets.

Still they kept coming. The Marines had dropped almost half the Kemmar line, but it wasn’t enough. The Kemmar were fearless and they were moving fast. Too fast to be stopped. They stampeded into the Marine line.

Jon braced himself as a metal clad soldier leaped for him. He sidestepped the airborne creature and drove the stock of his rail gun into the side of its helmet. It hit the ground hard and Jon rushed it, firing a sustained burst into its visor, killing the alien.

He spun around as another Kemmar crashed into him, knocking his rail gun away and causing him to fall backward. He hit the ground and used the momentum to roll. The creature straddled him with its legs, trying to point its weapon at him. Jon held its arms back, preventing the gun from finding its mark.

He succeeded in rolling out of the fall and ended up on top of the alien. Holding back its energy weapon with one hand Jon unsheathed his ion blade with the other. It crackled to life, glowing white and firing off sparks along its entire surface. The alien grabbed Jon’s wrist, futilely trying to stop his attack. Jon pushed down hard, his strength too much for the Kemmar to handle. The blade came down steadily until its tip found the helmet. The energized point sunk through the armor, melting away the alloy. Jon gave one final push and drove the tip into the alien skull.

Jon stood up, to witness widespread chaos. All around him the battle had shifted to hand to hand combat. Marine and Kemmar grappled with each other in tests of strength and will. His rail gun lay at his feet and he briefly thought about picking it up. It was pointless. He couldn’t fire his gun for fear of hitting his men. His ion blade, however, still crackled and vibrated in his hand.

He saw Kevin rolling around on the ground with one of the creatures. Kevin tried to fight off the alien from his back, blocking its attempts to bash in his helmet. Jon lunged forward and with a crack and a spark, drove his ion blade through the back of the Kemmar’s armored neck. The creature went limp and Jon’s blade hummed as he pulled it out.

Kevin threw the heavy corpse off and pulled himself up, but Jon was already gone. In a blur of movement he surged through the battle, wielding his ion blade in a familiar dance of death. He flowed from one strike to the next, his body moving in almost forgotten ways. He drove his blade through an enemy helmet, pounced and sunk it to the hilt in another creature’s back. His speed gave his victims no warning, his skill with the blade allowed them no hope. He slaughtered with fervor, as the screeches of the dying filled the air.

In seconds the butchering was over. The battle won. Jon stood in the middle of his men as they rose to their feet, a sizzling ion blade in his hand. He could only imagine how he looked, but he knew how he felt. Alive. Adrenaline coursed through his body, but there was something else. Something more. Something he hadn’t felt since before the Hermes. His symbiont had awoken.