Gamma Nine (Book One) (46 page)

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Authors: Christi Smit

Tags: #military action, #gamma, #nine, #epic battles, #epic science fiction, #action science fiction, #fight to survive, #epic fights, #horror science fiction, #space science fiction

BOOK: Gamma Nine (Book One)
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Whatever reason
motivated Siddle in acting without orders was later confirmed to be
the correct one, even though Siddle did not live to see the rest of
the battle unfold.

Siddle had
followed the heroic Titan, keeping low and moving fast as the
armoured man had ordered. But the Lancer’s rebellious soul had
begun to itch underneath is old skin, and soon he was sneaking
looks down at the enemy over the edge of the building. Little by
little he formed a picture in his mind of what the situation looked
like, assessing it and making the selfish choice to attack without
the Titan’s go ahead.

Siddle had
stopped mid stride, unclipping the launcher from his back and
shouldering the heavy weapon before anyone had even noticed that
the older Lancer had stopped moving. Xander was too late to order
the Lancer to stop what he was doing and get down. He was about to
scream at the man but the launcher’s throaty boom killed the words
on his lips before he could utter them in warning.

The tank-killer
round flew with a mind of its own towards the leading enemy
vehicle, hitting it in its flank between giant, armoured wheel
arches and protected crew compartment. Armour tried to soak up the
round’s extreme force, but it was futile. An explosion consumed the
troops walking alongside the vehicle and the crew inside the
armoured behemoth.

One shot from
the Lancer had crippled one deadly enemy and killed at least a
squad of enemy troops.

But it came at
a price, and the rest of Xander’s group had no time to congratulate
Siddle on his reckless shot. Siddle saw his end turn and lift its
man-killing barrel in his direction. The old Lancer did not move as
the second vehicle sighted and fired at its target.

“Oh shit...”
was all Siddle uttered before the section of building he was
standing on vanished in an explosive cloud of hot flame and debris,
vaporizing his body instantly.

The Lancer had
given away their position on the roof, and Xander already knew that
they had lost the element of surprise. Luckily the surviving
vehicle had not seen the precise position of everyone in Xander’s
group, but it had the general idea of what they were planning to
do.

More
man-killing rounds hit the building’s roof, blanketing it with
fire, expecting to kill the unknown number on-top of the south
facing building.

Another Lancer
died as the roof underneath him disappeared, taking the poor man
down with it, crushing his body in a shower of stone and concrete.
Xander blindly tossed a few of his more deadly devices over the
edge of the building hoping to kill as many as he could, but it did
not have the desired effect. Enough of the traitors had already
entered the complex, and were ready to rush the defenders in the
courtyard.

“They are
inside! Be ready Captain!” Xander yelled over the squad radio, his
voice strained as he dodged the incoming fire from the man-killer
firing on his group.

Xander
side-stepped a piece of roof crumbling in front of him and dived
for an opening the explosions had created. The hole led to the top
levels of the building, top levels that were already being filled
by enemy troops taking position overlooking the courtyard.

The Lancers
followed the Titan through the gap in the roof, diving inside one
by one, all of them preparing for close quarters fighting with the
enemy.

None of them
were masters of up close and personal combat, but at least there
would be a Titan leading the way. Xander was a one on one kind of
fighter, but there would definitely be more than one opponent in
his way, and the Lancers behind depended on him carving his way
through the traitors and leading them to safety.

The odds were
not great, but Xander pushed forward without hesitation, running at
almost full sprint when the first black-armoured traitor stepped
out of a doorway leading to a staircase. Xander did not break his
stride, unholstering his pistol mid sprint and putting a single
bullet through the man’s forehead.

During Locke’s
military career he had seen many horrible and beautiful things. He
had seen worlds die and burn at the hands of rebels or the
nightmarish Beast. He had witnessed the greatness of humankind when
staring death in the face, and unfortunately, he had also been
present when the strength of humankind had faltered, seeing what
truly lies inside the human soul. He remembered them all vividly,
but one memory in particular always stood out above the rest.
Whenever he closed his eyes and searched his mind for it, it would
always be there on the surface, always within easy reach of his
grasping mind. That memory stuck in his head as he prepared to
fight.

Many years ago,
before Locke had volunteered to be one of the very first Titans, he
was a sergeant in command of a squad of rookies, sent on a routine
mission to keep the population of an ice world called Almera from
rebelling against the rest of the P-SEP controlled sector. His
squad had been patrolling the ice fields near Almera’s capital city
when their local guide had pointed out something that was both
haunting and beautiful at the same time. A pack of Fenwolves, named
after the monstrous wolves that had stalked ancient Earth centuries
ago, moved silently over the ice fields against the approaching ice
storm. The pack was out hunting, sniffing the air for nearby prey,
their ice white fur blowing in the cold wind. One wolf, larger than
the rest, raised its head and had looked directly at Locke, its
blue unnatural eyes piercing his very soul as man and wild beast
stared at each other. Locke knew that it was the Alpha Wolf the
moment their eyes had met. The local guide that was attached to
Locke’s squad had explained to the then sergeant how the Fenwolves
had to hunt, without rest or any respite, forced to stalk the ice
and snow until they died from hunger or succumbed to old age. The
guide had called the Fenwolves’ future a grim one, and that most of
them would be dead or dying by the end of the decade if things on
Almera did not change for the better. Food in the wilderness of
Almera was almost completely wiped out by the end of the
rebellion.

Soon after
their mission was complete on Almera Locke and his squad had been
ordered to a different sector, and he never heard if the Fenwolves
had surrendered to their grim fate. It always bothered him whenever
he thought on that moment of pure beauty, the sadness in the eyes
of the alpha wolf’s stare.

When asked what
he wanted to name his Titan squad Locke did not hesitate, he named
them in honour of the great wolves of Almera, and their struggle
for survival on an unforgiving world. He named them the Grim
Wolves, and led them on hunts of their own, but instead of fighting
to stay alive, Locke and his Grim Wolves fought for something far
greater, they fought for humankind’s survival.

Locke could
almost feel the cold wind against his skin as he waited for the
enemy to finally show their faces. Explosions above the Titan
captain and Xander’s words cleared his reminiscing mind, focusing
his anger once more as his suit’s advanced systems picked up the
sound of boots running on cement floors. He knew the treacherous
bastards were close, and their close proximity fuelled him even
more. Locke was going to show each and every one of them that dared
to get in his way exactly how a Grim Wolf could hunt.

A gunshot, like
the shot fired before athletes set off, started what would be a
battle to remember - if anyone survived it.

The windows on
ground level and above filled up with enemy rifles, all of them
aimed at the defenders inside of the courtyard. To Locke’s surprise
the enemy soldiers dared to rush through the door in front of him,
no doubt they thought they were being brave, but they would soon
learn the error of their ways.

Five soldiers
dropped to their knees and opened fire on Locke and the Lancers
hiding in sight of the door. A few more traitors moved as they
fired, taking cover behind low walls just outside of the doorway.
The enemy was not going to sit back and wait for the defenders to
die, no they were going to try and blitz them, shock them with
sheer weight of numbers and then steamroll over whatever was left.
It was typical of the commanders under Lord Vincent’s command.
Throw enough bodies into the grinder and hope it gets choked up
before the battle is lost.

That tactic was
arrogant and selfish, but Locke did not mind it this time. No, he
preferred to have as many enemies rushing at him as possible, only
then could he fight at his full potential.

Locke took the
first few shots, standing still and facing the enemies as they
fired their pristine weapons at him and the men and women he was
fighting to protect. The bullets could not penetrate his Titan
suit, bullets ricocheting from his chest and arms as he remained
unmoving. He clipped his rifle to his back and lowered his head as
if in silent prayer.

There was no
prayer, he moved forward suddenly, his speed bordering on the
supernatural. To Gabriel Locke everything happened in slow motion,
seeing every movement before it happened, stepping exactly where he
needed to be to follow up his blows, dodging hits and
counterattacking. To everyone else he was a blur, his Titan suit
and the years of becoming one with it transforming him into a
whirlwind of death and slaughter.

Locke
shouldered a soldier, grabbing another’s head with his right hand.
The one he had shouldered flew into the wall beside the door, his
body cracking as it hit the stone, his life vanishing from his
broken body before it hit the ground. Locke slammed the other
soldier’s head into the ground as he slid forward from the
momentum, tossing the dead soldiers body at one of his comrades
nearby. The slide carried him into the midst of three more traitors
that had stepped into Locke’s killing ground. The first died with
an uppercut, breaking the man’s jaw and neck. The second soldier
died from a kick to the chest he never saw coming, he only saw the
flash of the Titan’s mirrored visor for a moment before his life
ended. The third received an elbow to the side of the head. He
never knew the Titan Captain was next to him, feeling only the wind
of movement on his exposed cheek before he perished, his head caved
in from the force of Locke’s blow.

One by one the
enemy died without much resistance. Another took a punch to the
stomach, his organs bursting inside his body. More died with every
blow Locke landed, shattering bones and liquefying vital organs.
One soldier saw Locke coming for him, the Titan taking a moment to
move normally to instil fear into the hearts of the enemy. He would
do that after every few kills, halting and purposefully moving
slower so the enemy could see and know what was hunting them. Locke
grabbed the man by an arm and swung him over his head like a
ragdoll, slamming him on-top of another soldier, both of them dying
in a heap of splintered bones and leaking flesh.

Locke heard a
gargle from the ground below. He looked down as he blocked a rifle
shot fired at him, seeing a soldier reaching for him as the blood
poured from his open mouth. Locke did not hesitate, lifting his leg
and ending the man’s suffering with a firm stomp. He did not
particularly like the idea of killing humans, but there was no
other choice, he had to kill to protect.

Fury and rage
burned within the Grim Wolves’ captain, and it forced him ever
forward, killing as he went, battering the enemy with his armoured
limbs, crushing any hope those soldiers ever had of surviving the
battle for New Horizon.

The anger
overtook Locke, running the last few steps towards the doorway the
enemy had come through. He was done showing off, playing with these
arrogant fools was a waste of time. Gunfire erupted from the
traitors from above Locke’s position, but it did not stop the
Titan.

It took only a
few steps before Locke was through the doorway. Inside the enemy
was scampering for cover as the Titan showed them its armoured
face. Its armour was scarred and dirty, but the snarling wolf on
its arm was still visible.

Moments later
the Alpha Wolf of the Grim Wolves freed his shackles and that is
when the screaming started.

The Lancers
returned fire as the enemy peppered the defenders from their
positions. There was no turning back now, and there was no escaping
the final, frantic battle of Santor. Bodies dropped on both sides,
one force fighting for survival and a future, the other for murder
and conquest. Sabian’s marksmen were well trained snipers, taking a
heavy toll on the enemy number with every shot they fired, but with
every traitor that died two more took its place. Luckily the
defenders did not have to worry about counter sniper fire, Godwaker
had seen to that. Enemy snipers had tried to reach the roof of the
building overlooking the courtyard, but from the distance Godwaker
had made sure that no-one ever set foot on roof of the south
building. The thunderous fire from Godwaker was a welcome sound to
all of the defenders, but its non-stop reaping would soon draw the
unwanted attention of other, more inhuman enemies. Its vigil over
the Wolves and Lancers would have to end sometime, and already
traitors and beasts were growing tired of the artificial thunder
murdering their own.

Jay and the
Lancers serving as his spotters and guard were unaware that on the
ground a horde of surviving monsters had followed the sound of
Godwaker, pinpointing its location with ease, and were now breaking
into the lower levels of the building Godwaker was firing from. To
make matters worse, the commander in charge of the traitors had
ordered the last of his aerial units to destroy the very same
building.

Soon Corporal
Jay’s position would be attacked from above and below, and a
desperate battle to stay alive until pickup would take place in the
burning heat of New Horizon’s sun.

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