Naero's War: The Citation Series 2: The High Crusade (6 page)

The Ejjai troops herded the dozen or so captives into the nearest cloneship, shaped like a big red, round dome. Within, Ejjai techs, mostly the smaller, scrawny males, labored hard at developing, shunt training, and freezing ten thousand Ejjai shock troops in only thirty days.

Left on their own, the clones would only live for about ten years–and could still reproduce the natural way, as well.

The enemy cloneships were obviously far more efficient for military purposes. The Ejjai clones never seemed to question their situation or existence. They gleefully relished any opportunity to exploit, torture, kill, and devour all life that got in their way.

The leadership for this battle group consisted of one Ejjai admiral, two combat generals, and their closest direct command officers–all female. That was customary, being that hyaenanoids were strictly and brutally matriarchal.

On the big cloning vessel, the invader leaders had set themselves up a little playroom, like all good warlords, complete with implements of torture, butchering, and cooking and eating supplies. The Ejjai leadership took for themselves the best of everything, including the most prized meat.

The Ejjai leadership and about a hundred of their closest officers shut themselves up in their playroom, ready to have a little fun.

Naero even overheard them give explicit orders not to be disturbed for the next few hours. Only if there was a major attack on the base.

That made things interesting.

Naero checked her wristcomp. Still, that gave her almost two hours before Bravo moved in to take out the enemy base.

Ejjai could do a whole lot of nasty in two hour’s time. The additional dozen fresh captives joined about threescore others, huddled together in holding pens and cages.

Naero estimated. She could channel only so much more Cosmic energy this day, and most of it was still in Chaos forms. Her Mystic powers were not infinite, so she had to use them sparingly to the best effect.

Om, I think we have to take out the leadership on our own. Bravo can take these other clowns down without me. But we need to call in a new plan for Squad 2.

Let me guess, N. You want them to leave you to it here, and go assist with saving the rest of those captives in that pen when the attack goes down? Correct?

That’s where they’ll be needed the most, in order to cut down on the casualties. We know there will be a few, no matter what we do. They can help reduce that number even further. I’m calling it in.

“Squad 2, Squad 2. This is N. Go help save the people trapped in that pen. I’m good to go here. I’ll take out the leadership and rescue the prisoners here. Catch up with me after mission completion.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help or back up from us, N?” Scott asked. We could leave you a fireteam, if nothing else.”

“No, thanks, but I don’t think so. There’s only a hundred of them.”

“Only a hundred, eh?”

“Funny, Scott. Just do me a favor and don’t let our people waste this cloneship until I’ve signaled that myself and the other prisoners are all-out. Luck to you all. Fight well, 36.”

“Affirmative, sir. You do the same. Squad 2, over and out.”

Om, I need you and our fixers to cut and bypass any alarms and keep us sealed up in this little Ejjai playroom for the next hour or so. These bitches want to be alone with their meat? Let’s keep it that way. Oh, and jam all of the coms and links, while we’re at it. Two can play at that game.

Fixers on it, N. Nothing will get in or out until you give the word.

Thanks, Om. Watch our six.

As always.

The Ejjai leadership were pickier about their meat that the rest of their kind. They began washing the captives and carefully stripping them of their clothing, careful not to bruise or damage their prizes.

But very soon…things would take a turn for the worse for the captives, and get extremely messy soon enough.

Naero focused her abilities and prepared herself.

She set up a company-level shield pod near the holding pen where the invaders were herding in all of the clean meat. The victims shivered, wet and cold and afraid.

As soon as the last selected captives were tossed in, Naero had a fixer flip the switch on the shield pod.

Now the captives were all as safe as she could make them for the next several minutes.

Shetanna could go to work.

At first she remained cloaked and shot many of the Ejjai on the perimeter with stun needles from her needle rifle. She could have chosen explosive needles, but she had time to kill…literally.

The Ejjai flipped out, firing weapons in all directions, killing and wounding each other.

Then her mines and microbombs went off.

When she had whittled them down to about thirty or so, she made herself visible to them and their leadership, twin red katanas blazing and crackling in her hands.

The invaders snarled and roared, going on the attack.

A few tried to call for help. Naero cut them down first.

Some others tried to attack and kill the shielded captives.

Shetanna struck them down next.

Next she flashed among the remaining Ejjai with Mystic-trained speed and strength. Pieces of Ejjai flew in several directions, their screams echoing in the air and filling the isolated chamber.

The leaders held out among a final pocket of a handful of troops, weapons blazing.

Shetanna set her personal shield full front and strode toward the band deliberately, ignoring their fire. She stalked them slowly, eyes set.

She walked in among them and killed them all, one by one.

She saved the leaders for last.

By then they were reduced to cowardly gibbering and balling up in terror in their own wastes, as Shettanna slowly carved off their heads with her glowing blades.

All the terror the Ejjai instilled in their poor, helpless victims. And yet, when put to it themselves, they were all nothing but gutless cowards at heart.

Naero took the time to free and see to the Ramoran and Besh captives, allowing them to reclaim their clothes and gather up weapons, if they so wished.

While they put themselves together and made ready to depart, Naero made sure of any foes who were only stunned.

Some of the captives began shooting any Ejjai who twitched and still moved. Some just liked shooting up their captors.

Other than being traumatized by their entire ordeal, most of the captives seemed all right. Two of them were actually experienced transport pilots.

That would come in handy.

As Naero guessed, the leadership had an escape transport at hand. That included room for at least a hundred persons. She put the captives in and sealed it up, giving them orders to fly out after the Marine attack started up.

Naero made sure to paint the transport as a captured vehicle with friendlies on board, not to be shot down or destroyed. She sent a relay alert to her mates and HQ, to make certain that nobody fired upon the prisoners as they fled.

After the attack began, and the transport left the ship, Shetanna turned back and went after the Ejjai troops still on board the cloneship, and the troops protecting it outside.

Once again, with her unit shielding shimmering around her, Shetanna quietly walked out to face them.

At first they just stared at her in shock and disbelief.

Shetanna yawned and calmly, casually stretched, as they rose groggily to their feet.

One of the alphas snarled at Naero and pointed, looking around. “See if it’s a holo. The spacks get us to shoot at holos, a lot. What is this, spack? Some kind of trick?”

An Ejjai actually tried to come close and poke her.

Shetanna shoved a blazing blade through the invader’s eyes. “No, tricks, filth. It’s the real me. Get your strength back. Stop shitting and pissing yourselves. Take your time. Lift your weapons. Let me know when you are ready.”

Shetanna smiled and narrowed her eyes. “Let me know when you all are ready to die.”

The enemy blinked at her as if she or they were all insane.

Weapons came up.

“You aren’t getting out of here alive, spack.”

Naero flexed her neck casually. “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, stray blasts deflecting off her shields.

The Ejjai simply did not know what to make of this, apparently forgetting about the battle rapidly sweeping toward them all.

But they still tried to encircle her.

“Why aren’t you scared, spack? You should be trying to escape.”

Shetanna laughed and grinned at them, pulling up her Mystic battle mask. “I could say the same thing to you, bitches.”

“Are you crazy? Can’t you see how many of us there are? All of the firepower we have?”

“Yeah,” Naero said calmly. “I guess I only wanted a light work out today. Thanks anyway for trying.” She sighed and lifted her swords. “I guess your dumb asses will just have to do!”

Sonic attacks and telekinetic mind blasts drove the foremost attackers crunching into supports and the hull when they rushed in on her.

Enemy weapons barked and cut loose.

Naero unleashed an expanding wave of Chaos energy attacks and techniques that cut the attackers in half within seconds.

A spray of Chaos energy spikes and rods shot out from several directions and drilled many others full of lethal, burning holes.

Then they exploded, shredding the invaders where they stood.

Shetanna ripped into the last foes like a flaming wheel of blazing swords and flashing, crushing kicks.

When Naero rejoined her unit, everyone was in a somber mood.

They had endured one casualty. A gigantic carnasaur slipped in during the battle and snapped its huge jaws on Sender Konrad of Squad 2, Fireteam 2. It chewed him and his armor up and swallowed him whole, before his mates could track the damn thing down and kill it. They had to blow the carcass open with charges to retrieve Sender’s remains, which they put into a standard casualty bag.

Marines took care of their own dead whenever and wherever possible.

With the mission complete, 36 returned to their dropship and went back into orbit that night, attached to the strike cruiser,
The Black Bulldog
.

Staff Sergeant Owen Valmont led Squad 2 and the rest of 36 as they solemnly carried and escorted Sender Konrad to the ship’s mortuary, where the honored dead were prepared for burial on the third day, after their wake. At times, if there were many casualties, the wakes would be held, but the dead would be kept frozen, and launched into the nearest star when the mission was over.

The Marines marched slow. Valmont’s voice rang out. “Let the call go out into the Beyond. For a Spacer Marine goes forth upon the next journey. Let him be welcomed and embraced, by all of his blood, and his mighty brothers and sisters who have gone before him. Let them welcome him in honor.”

Sender’s mates had already said their goodbyes to him along the way and during the ride up.

They handed the remains over to the funeral teks, and went back to their quarters. Marines were almost always quiet during the first few hours of losing one of their own. Then slowly, they returned to their regular routines.

Seventhday had what many called Sparring Night. Others also called it Dance Night, but Naero had never been much of a dancer. Although from what she heard, 36 had some of the best dancers in Bravo Command. Everything with the hyper-athletic Marine Companies was a hot and heavy competition.

Naero spent much of the evening knife fighting with Trevor Lakota in a practice room.

They had a fantastic time.

Just as she expected, Lakota was superb with blades. Without her Mystic strength and speed, he would have beaten her half of their matches. The man was that good.

Even with her prowess, he drew her blood seven times.

“You should have been a Mystic,” Naero told him.

He smiled. “That is not my way, as it is yours, Naero of the Brighteyes. I am but a simple warrior at heart. While you, you were borne of the blood of your mighty parents to become the great Spirit Warrior that you are now, and that you shall yet become in the future. Any who have eyes can see this in you.”

Naero sighed. “I carry a Cosmic monster within me that I cannot control,” she confessed.

Lakota nodded. “You may call it that, but it is you. You are the darkness and the light, both good and evil, and they constantly war within your soul. The Great Mystery itself has touched you, and invoked its powers of Life and Death within you. I fear, that your destiny shall be both great and terrible–a very frightening thing indeed. I would not wish such a life. Yet it makes me glad, that I am but a simple warrior.”

Naero asked him about the Marine they had lost, and then about several other people in the company. Lakota always gave her his honest opinion.

At one point Naero grinned and was curious. “You like the Foxes, the cousins Chime and Jonny. I can tell you do, but you seldom talk to them or hang around them as friends.”

Lakota grinned. “Big sister and little brother Fox? Yes, I have great love for them, and they need it, because of the great sadness of their family. They often make me laugh, but I can only take so much of them. Yet they are good Marines and warriors in their own right, and have my respect. I am a quiet man by my nature; I usually keep to myself.”