War For Mars- Aethon's Revenge: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Book 2), page 1
War For Mars
Aethon’s Revenge
War For Mars Series
Book 2
Olin Lester
Copyright © 2023 by Olin Lester
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The War For Mars is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.
Cover design and illustration by © Tom Edwards TomEdwardsDesign.com
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Glossary
AI- Artificial Intelligence
HUD- Heads up display
GWO- Global World Order
SD- Suicide Drone
SSG- Staff Sergeant
SGT- Sergeant
LZ- Landing Zone
RP- Rally Point
MRE- Meal Ready to Eat
QRF- Quick Reaction Force
MSG- Master Sergeant
AFI- Allied Federation Intelligence
AF- Allied Federation
FTL- Faster Than Light
HR- Heart Rate
LTC- Legion Cutter Tiberius
CO- Commanding Officer
AGL- Air to Ground Level
RDF- Roon Defense Force
RDX- Research Department Explosive
GEMC- Grim Eternals Medical Course
Dedication
With special thanks to Josh Mathis and Manuel Carreon. In so many ways, this book wouldn’t be possible, but for your input and love of stories.
Contents
1. The Legion Never Rests
2. Killing Ain’t Easy
3. Freedom Comes At a Price
4. The Vials
5. The Decision
6. Medic Up
7. Allied Federation Intelligence Agent Scott Wolf
8. The Talk
9. Council Meeting (AAR)
10. Consciousness
11. Trust
12. Sometimes Less is More (Borge-V)
13. The Collector
14. Borge-V
15. The Empress
16. Do or Die
17. H the Protector
18. Ttg
19. Captain Cora Yates
20. The Darkness Grows
21. The Immortals
22. An AI Army
23. Distraction
24. Safe House
25. The Horizon
26. Rally the Troops
27. War is Near
28. Planet New Rome
29. Admiral Harris
30. The Assault on Babylon
31. Escape and Evade
32. H
33. Legion Intel Spy Drone
34. QRF
35. War
36. The Attack
37. Outpost Compromised
38. Underground Death
39. The Outpost Destroyed
40. Jido
41. The Momentum Shift
42. Aftermath
43. Project Eden
44. Cora’s Biological Message
45. It is Alive
46. Evacuation
47. The Plan
48. Stealth
49. Traitor
50. No Room at the End
51. The Marines
52. Link Up
53. The Beginning of the End
54. The Answer
55. Exit
56. Welcome Home, Rebels
57. The War for Mars
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Chapter 1
The Legion Never Rests
[Onboard Roon Defense Force Cutter Angelica
In Space Near the Arkan Moon]
Outer space was black as tar, speckled with the white brilliance of distant stars, and its vastness gave way to the beauty of several photon torpedoes as their captivating red trails sped toward the RDF Cutter Angelica. The first one missed as the Legion Battle Cruiser Constantine maneuvered from the dark side of the Arkan moon.
Grim Eternals David Aethon and H had just successfully escaped the prisoner planet Roon X-3 with what remained of the Roon Rebels and were in route to friendly lines when the Legion swung from their place of slumber. Their attack came out of nowhere, and only the men’s fatigue could account for their inability to prepare for the unexpected assault. They should have known, but the totality of the day had dreadfully taken its toll.
“Max power diverted to the port-side shields!” Aethon yelled, punching buttons with purpose. His cameras showed an orange glow as multiple torpedoes impacted the shield.
The Angelica rocked, tossing Rebels from their small but quaint resting quarters.
“GWO star-base Orio, this is the repatriated Roon Defense Force Cutter Angelica. We are in heavy contact with a Legion battle cruiser, requesting immediate assistance, how copy?” H transmitted through a known Galactic World Order long-range emergency comms channel.
Static.
“The shields are holding, but I have no control over any of the railguns. Can you get them online?” H asked as he dropped the ship under the red trailing tail of a failed torpedo.
“It’s like ancient, old-world Chinese. I can’t figure out why the guns aren’t responding!” Aethon replied as sweat rolled down his back. His heart raced as he knew the Legion’s ship was ten times deadlier than the Angelica. Their only hope was to outrun them.
The ship violently shook as Commander Thompson’s voice echoed across the intercom. “We’re hit! Disable the stern airlock!” Failing metal and splintering wood resonated through the speakers. “Shrapnel from the last torpedo split a hole through the lock. Shut off access and we’ll be good to go!”
Aethon twisted his seat to his right, facing additional buttons and a new holo-screen. He tapped and moved an image across it. “Locked out, Commander!” He turned off the utilities to that airlock and moved his chair again. “You guys good back there?”
The ship shifted and moaned as Thompson replied, “Just don’t open that airlock and we will be golden, pony boy.”
“Copy…grab four of your best and head down to the fire control. We have to get those guns firing now. It’s old school time. We have to manually fire the railguns. They are online, but for some odd reason we can’t figure why there’s no autonomous mode.”
“Copy!”
Commander Thompson turned to the Rebels. “First four on me!” He turned to run and yelled, “The rest of you prepare to relieve us upon my order!”
“Copy that, sir,” echoed the Rebels as they began to move. The first four men, Riley, Briggs, Cole, and Fare, moved with a purpose, smiling—knowing they were about to engage the Legion in a straight-up air-to-air fight.
A white, smoked-glass door slid open as the men ran through it. Thin camera monitors adorned the light blue walls, and four small passageways snaked through the ship, ending with small, circular, sealed doors within the floor that led to fire control in the belly of the ship.
Commander Thompson looked at Cole. “We’re gonna need you to keep the guns fed.” He pressed a button on a tablet next to the door, under a monitor displaying images of the fast-approaching Constantine—which was launching DarkFighters.
The door slid skyward and revealed the mechanical room for belt-fed 30mm tritium-tipped rounds. Hydraulic oil lingered in the air as the men stepped inside. They were in the heart of the ship. For navigational purposes, the flight deck was the brains of the ship, but for defensive purposes, the fire-control room was the ship’s heart where five man-size machines worked feverishly to feed belted ammunition to each of the four railguns.
Commander Thompson picked up a loose 30mm round, hefting it up toward the light as if he could see through it like glass. “Would you look at the size of this thing?” he asked Cole. The round was noticeably heavy and looked nearly three times the size of his hand.
“That’s what I’m talking about, sir. Fuck the Legion. Let’s give ’em hell!”
Thompson smiled and handed the shimmering, silver-tipped round to his Rebel. “I’ve never been inside this ship before, but it seems to be set up like the old AF cutters we used during the war,” he said, pointing to the track system snaking toward all sides of the ship. “You can see the ammo rides along the metal track, and each of the four machines were fed ammo from a central location. We just have to trace the tracks back to that location,” he explained as he and Cole did just that, ending at a door, which when opened led them to the ammo storage.
“Bingo!” Cole said, laughing. “Once you guys get some kills, if there’s time, could you get me relief and let me get a kill or two under my belt?”
The commander smirked. “Son, there’s going to be plenty of time for you to get your killing on. But, if the opportunity presents itself, I’ll personally switch with you, and you can go to town with my railgun. Deal?”
“Deal, sir!”
“You just make sure we don’t run out of ammo!”
Chapter 2
Killing Ain’t Easy
[Onboard Roon Defense Force Cutter Angelica
In Space Near the Arkan Moon]
Commander Thompson left Cole to work the ammo as he exited the room and made his way down the passageway toward the nose of the ship. Riley, Briggs, and Fare had already located and climbed down into their railgun turrets. Each man was cocooned within a ballistic bubble that, at any time, could be retracted into the ship, along with their railguns.
Thompson opened the sealed circular porthole door nestled within the floor at the end of his passageway. Below him, he could see a seat similar to the captain’s chair but appearing softer with manual sticks at the end of the armrests.
He snaked his way into the railgunner’s compartment and strapped himself into the chair. In the distance, he could see the blue vapor trails of the DarkFighters as they crossed the blackness of space, having just launched from the belly of the Constantine.
Thompson quickly initiated the weapon system, moving the gun and his turret with the sticks while his foot pedals articulated the compartment up and down. The flight deck was directly above him, so his point of view was similar to H and Aethon’s, just from a different angle, a few decks below.
“Comms check,” Thompson transmitted as he donned holographic glasses and slid a receiver into his ear canal. The ear mic fit flush and was barely noticeable when the response came.
“We copy. Thompson, get those guns up! Our shields are at fifty percent!” Aethon yelled. He could see the vapor trails of incoming torpedoes.
Thompson pushed his pedals and pulled his railgun hard left at the enemy torpedoes; his eyes tracked the red holographic circle within his glasses as he placed it on the tip of a photon torpedo. With the squeeze of his trigger, smoke encircled his railgun as its cyclic rate of fire hummed, and to a soldier, the countless red tracers arcing across the cold black death of space were poetic as they ate the incoming torpedo alive.
“One down!” Thompson yelled as he let off the trigger and quickly rotated his railgun onto his next target. Again, he destroyed the weapon in a hail of 30mm tritium-tipped, God-loving rounds. The battle was on!
Cole stood holding his ears as all four machines fed belted ammunition to the railguns. It was like a rhythmical magician. The rounds were linked together, flowing through the track systems at a speed he couldn’t fathom. Smoke and oil dwindled in the air as Cole moved between the four systems with a can of oil, spraying the life juice on the exposed gearing within each machine.
H continued to fly evasively as Aethon diverted power to portions of the shields sustaining the most damage.
“GWO Star Base Orio, again, this is the repatriated Roon Defense Force Cutter Angelica.” He paused as a DarkFighter exploded dangerously close and debris impacted the flight deck. H fell to the floor but quickly picked himself up as Aethon winced and grabbed his left side. “GWO Star Base Orio, we are in heavy contact with a Legion battle cruiser, requesting immediate assistance, how copy?” H transmitted through the known Galactic World Order long-range comms channel for a second time.
Static filled the air. “RDF Angelica, this is the AF Battle Cruiser Gypsy Heavy.” Static crackled again. “We have just come out of FTL travel and are close! Fast approaching your six—pull hard starboard, and we will engage those bastards!”
Without hesitation, H rolled the ship hard starboard and then noticed a camera view of the Gypsy Heavy’s red photon torpedoes launching toward the Constantine a couple thousand kilometers away. It was a mesmerizing sight to behold. The blackness of space lingered behind the Constantine like death awaiting the old as 30mm rounds scorched the DarkFighters. As an added bonus, the torpedoes impacting the enemy battle cruiser were a giant middle finger to the Legion.
An explosion sent Cole flying as hot hydraulic fluid sprayed though the air. Cole quickly righted himself and with a spud wrench in hand moved to find the source of the leak. The battle outside was fierce, and the repatriated RDF Angelica was taking a brutal beating.
Captain Thompson’s foot pedals were gradually seizing up. He could feel it with every pedal push as he strafed 30mm rounds across the wings of a DarkFighter. He felt something was wrong but was in the moment of killing Legion fighter pilots and couldn’t stop to do anything about it until the moment his ammo stopped flowing. Then he knew Cole was in trouble, and without a smooth-running fire-control room, the ship was doomed.
Dropping his railgun controls, he unstrapped as the battle out in space raged on. Ascending the short ladder, Thompson climbed out into the passageway and started running for fire control. “Cole!” he yelled as he ran. His heart pounded in his ears, but he heard no response from his young Rebel.
Sliding from the passageway, Thompson banked left and moved, but just then, the door opened in front of him, and Cole came stumbling out, coughing his head off. A thin, black, caustic smoke followed.
“Cole, you good?” Commander Thompson asked as he grabbed his shoulders, moving him from the door’s opening.
The man coughed and wheezed as he waved his arms. “Yeah, this ship is old as crap. No one uses hydraulics in their fire-control rooms, but I took care of it. Damn shit caught fire. It was a small fire, but I put it out…kind of quick. Anyways, the ammo is feeding again. Your railgun should be good to go now. Go check. Briggs, Riley, and Fare’s guns are rockin’ and rollin’.”
Thompson smiled and thought about the favor Cole had asked for before the fighting commenced. “You still want to slide in my railgun and get a few kills?”
Cole had indeed asked but was too reserved to ask again. “I’ve never fired a railgun manually before. Like I said, this ship is old as hell.”
“Well, now’s your chance!” Thompson said, slapping Cole’s back and pushing him gently toward the passageway.
Cole looked off toward the fire-control room.
“I’ll take care of that, but let’s hustle it up, will ya!” Thompson yelled with a grin. Cole paused again, but before he could say another word, Thompson added, “That’s an order,” and then began to shove Cole toward the passageway.
Cole nodded and began to run toward the railgunner’s compartment hatch. Quickly, he climbed down and slid into the seat as red-and-green trails flashed off in space.
“Buckle those shoulder straps, and that will initiate the gun. Your foot pedals orient your railgun up and down, and the sticks at the end of your armrests control left, right, forward, and rates of fire. I’ll seal you in,” Commander Thompson explained as Cole strapped in. Thompson was affording him the opportunity to down a fighter by hand, something that hadn’t been done since AI and the Autonomous chips were invented.
“Seal it up, sir. I’m about to lay some waste!” Cole said with fire in his voice.
Thompson closed the hatch, turned the handles, and sealed Cole inside of the railgunner’s compartment, then he ran back to the fire-control room. It would be the last time he’d see Cole alive.
Chapter 3
