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An Uneasy Alliance: Book 4 of the Sentenced to War Series
An Uneasy Alliance: Book 4 of the Sentenced to War Series Read online
Copyrighted Material
An Uneasy Alliance Copyright © 2021 by Variant Publications
Book design and layout copyright © 2021 by JN Chaney
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from JN Chaney.
www.jnchaney.com
www.jonathanbrazee.com
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Contents
Glossary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Acknowledgments
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About the Authors
Glossary
AGMS: Anti-G Straining Maneuvers
ASAP: As Soon As Possible
BC: the digital currency for most nations
BOCT: Benevolent Order of Crystal Technicians
Bronze Nova: the third-highest medal in the Union military
CCR-32 Didactic Interface: the AI implanted into the Marines’ heads.
Cerrocrete: a very strong futuristic concrete
CG: Commanding General
CO: Commanding Officer
COH: Congress of Humanity, the highest authority of mankind
CST: Combat Simulation Trainer
D-5 Cord: an explosive-saturated cord
DC/Direct Combat: Marines such as infantry, recon mech combat engineers, who will face the enemy in direct combat.
DI: Drill Instructor
Dykstra: a heavy sniper rifle
E-Club: Enlisted Club where the lowest three ranks can hang out, drink, and eat.
ECR: Effective Casualty Radius. The radius from a detonation within which will produce 50% casualties
EMP: Electro-magnetic Pulse. Will shut down all electronics within range
EOE: End of Enlistment
FTL: Faster Than Light, a starship drive
Gold Nova: the second highest medal in the Union military forces
G-Loc: G-force induced loss of consciousness
Groundpounders: slang for infantry
HE: High Explosive
Host: the military arm of the Frisian Mantle, a sometime ally/enemy of the Perseus Union
KIA: Killed in Action
Leaches: Military slang for civilians
M49 Assault Rifle: the standard weapon of the Union Marines. It fires a 2mm high-velocity dart.
M-102 Nellis: the Marine Corps’ main sniper rifle
M-133: a heavy weapon fired by mech Marines
MF-30: a standard issue handgun
MilDes: Military Designator
MilDes Ninety-nine/Ninety-nine: essentially indentured servants in uniform
MMCS: Marine Mechanical Combat Suit
MP: Military Police
MPT: Military Placement Test
NCO: Non-commissioned Officer. The middle two ranks of enlisted Marines
NM: Neuro-mapping
NVD: Night Vision Device
Omega Division/OD: the secret police and spy agency of the Union
Optisight: a flexible optical tube
PAL-3: Personal Armor, Light 3: the standard body armor for an infantry Marine
PAL-5: Personal Armor, Light 5. The standard body armor of recon Marines and Raiders.
Paladin: a large Centaur heavy mech unit, similar to a light tank
PFC: Private First Class
Phoenix MG-3 Incendiary Mine: a small grenade that can burn through most substances
Plastiderm: a synthetic skin that is used in medical procedures
PN: Platinum Nova the highest military award in the Perseus Union military
Poolee: someone who is committed to the Corps but who is not yet been sworn in as a recruit
PQ: Personality Quotient. Used to determine the human characteristics of some AIs
PUNS: Perseus Union Naval Ship
Raider: part of Recon, but with more combat-focused missions instead of surveillance
Recon: Reconnaissance Marine
Riever: a smaller Centaur mech unit, similar to a Marine Raider or reconnaissance Marine.
Secdrones: Security drones used by the police
SNCO: Staff Non-commissioned Officer. The highest three ranks among enlisted Marines.
SOP: Standard Operating Procedure
Syksky: a deep-fried bread stuffed with spiced meat and vegetables
WIA: Wounded in Action
XM-554: a more powerful missile designed to have more punch
XO: Executive Officer, the #2 person in the unit.
Yellowjacket: a shoulder-launched missile
Yellowshirt: a Navy sailor charged with moving people and goods around a flight line.
1
The Centaur paladin crested the rise, its pedestal traversing to bring its cannon to bear.
Staff Sergeant Reverent Pelletier, Perseus Union Marine Corps, darted forward and closed the distance. He raised Pashu, his IBHU, from where she hung from his left shoulder where once his organic arm was connected.
He didn’t have to activate a mechanical trigger of any kind. He merely “thought” it to fire, exactly as if he were pointing. The braided meson beam shot downrange just as the paladin’s cannon zeroed in on Rev. There was a burst of blue as the beam hit the paladin, followed a moment later by a spectacular blast as the enemy armor self-detonated.
Rev spun around, the first paladin forgotten. At 319 meters, this one was too far for Pashu’s cannon, but Rev was well within the enemy’s range, and he’d have to run too far while exposed to get within his firing envelope before being nailed himself.
He knew his only option was his Morays. He started sprinting to his right as he fired three of his six missiles, each one a quarter-second apart. The paladin reacted, firing its self-defense belt, destroying the first missile and deflecting the second. But before it could fire a second belt, the third missile hit home.
A Moray was never a sure kill against a paladin, but this time, the missile burned through the enemy armor, setting off a catastrophic explosion, the pedestal cartwheeling thirty meters into the air before it came down with a thud and a cloud of dust.
Rev spun around again. Right in front of him, the cannon muzzle looking huge as Rev could almost look down it, the riever relentlessly closed the distance to him . . . and if he could see down the muzzle, he was within its sights. Rev dove to the ground as the blast fired where he’d been standing an instant before. Firing a Moray from the prone position was likely to drop the missile into the dirt before it could lock on and fly, so with a twitch of his shoulder, he switched Pashu to the 20mm cannon mounted beneath his main gun. Before the rieiver could reacquire him as a target, he fired fifteen jacketless rounds within a period of less than a second.
With every five rounds a tracer, he watched them cross the intervening space and slam into the riever. The thing’s twelve legs collapsed, and the main body smacked into the ground.
It didn’t self-detonate, but Rev knew it was dead. He stood up and brushed the dirt off of his front with his right hand as he surveyed the damage.
“Cease fire, cease fire on Range four-zero-nine.”
Rev turned back to where a door was opening from the underground range bunker. A smiling Daryll, the Sieben tech rep for the Camp Nguyen IBHUs, came jogging up to him.
“How did it feel?”
Rev rotated Pashu, trying to detect the same pulling sensation he’d experienced since the Centaur invasion. There wasn’t anything.
“Pretty good. Feels like when she was brand new.”
“Told you the new secondary harness was going to do the trick. The only thing better was going to be taking out the old and putting in the new model, but that would have taken another two months before you could start using it.”
Which wasn’t going to work, not with Rev’s orders to the Home Guard, the combined force that protected the home system.
“What about when you fired the twenty? How was the recoil?” Daryll asked as he took out his field scanner.
Rev had been using a .50 cal coilgun as his projectile weapon, which packed a pretty good punch in its own right. But the modified 20 mm cannon was finally finished, and the brass thought it best if he showed up at the Home Guard maxed out in firepower. There had been some concern that with the degradation of his support harnesses, the recoil of the twenty would be too strong even with the neodymium suppression system installed.
“Pretty good. Feels fine, in fact.”
“You say the word, and we’ll put back the fifty. You leave in three weeks, right?”
Rev nodded as he swung Pashu through her range of motion.
“OK, then, we’ve still got time. So, what do you think?” Daryll asked.
Having a 20 mm cannon instead of a .50 cal was pretty impressive, and every Marine in history loved things that made a bigger bang. The only downside was that he’d be sacrificing over a hundred rounds in his combat load.
But I sure don’t need to use as many, he told himself as he looked over to the dead riever.
“No, I’ll keep it.”
“I told Doctor C you’d say that, even if your shoulder was screaming at you to go back to the fifty.”
“You’re beginning to understand the Marine mind well, Daryll.”
“Is your shoulder screaming at you, though? Between you and me?”
“No, it really does feel OK.”
Which was a relief. He’d been suffering during the entire fight for New Hope. His original harness had started to break free, and the connection to his shoulder stub hadn’t been designed correctly to take the constant beating and stress he was putting on it. Right now, though, he almost felt human again.
“What about Lieutenant Macek and the other two? They getting these mods, too?”
“All four of you are. Six of you, if you count everyone. You’re going to be a long way from home, so we don’t want anyone to start breaking down like you guys did. We just needed you to test the mods first.”
“So, I’m the guinea pig?”
“Hell, Rev. You’re IBHU Number 1. You’ve always been the guinea pig.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Rev said with a laugh.
The laugh faded as he surveyed the range again. “You know, I never would have survived if this had been real.”
Daryll shrugged as he ran the scanner over Reb’s shoulder and torso. “Reality wasn’t important. We just had to put you through the paces. ’Sides, with the war over, what were we going to do with all those tin-ass targets? Seems like a waste to just let them sit in a warehouse somewhere. Except that riever there was supposed to blow after you nailed it. I’m going to have to get on someone’s case about that.”
Rev raised his eyebrows in question, then he raised Pashu so that Daryll could see the three remaining missile sleeves.
“The range is cold, Rev,” Daryll said, but without conviction. “You want to risk those rockers?”
“These?” Rev tapped the new insignia on his combat suit’s cuirass. “They sped up my date of promotion so that I’d report into Titan as a staff sergeant. You think they’ll take that away just because a fake riever cooks off? I mean, that can’t be my fault, right?”
Daryll looked back to the bunker. There was a range NCOIC, the Noncommissioned Officer in Charge, there, waiting for them to leave so she could call in the civilian maintenance crew to come, clean up the mess, and prepare for the next training evolution, and she’d know if Rev fired another Moray.
“Besides, the guy in charge of targets must have loaded the riever up with fireworks, and it’d be a shame to waste that effort. Might even be dangerous for them to have to take the charges out. Just thinking of our civilian workforce, you know.”
A wicked smile crossed Daryll’s face. “You think I can stay here with you? I want to feel it.”
“Your funeral.”
“Do it. I’ll take care of the sergeant in the bunker later.”
“Get behind me.”
Rev slowly raised Pashu. If that was a real riever hulk, hitting it again wouldn’t do much. But this was a fake riever, meant to mimic the real thing only in as far as maneuvering, and it had been rigged for a nice explosion.
Daryll stepped behind him, just off his right shoulder, but Rev lowered Pashu.
“What, you changed your mind?” Daryll asked, obviously disappointed.
“That scanner you have. You can use that to test the trigger connections back in the armory, right?”
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
“Can you fire a live weapon with it?”
“Well, yeah. But what does that matter?”
“You want to kill that riever over there?”
A huge smile almost cracked Daryll’s face in two. “Me? Damned right, I do.”
“OK, scoot around to my left side. Put your arm right along the top of Pashu. I’ll make sure she’s aimed, but you’ll fire. OK?”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Daryll shifted his position as instructed. His front was hugging Rev’s back, his left arm over Rev’s IBHU as Rev aimed at the riever.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Daryll
pressed one of the controls of his scanner, and the missile fired. It slammed into the hulk an instant later, which went up into a huge ball of flame. The heat rushed back to flow over them. Rev, in his PAL-5 body armor, felt nothing, of course.
He turned around to look at Daryll. If Rev didn’t know better, he’d swear the guy’s hair was singed, but he was smiling to beat the band.
“Well, tin-ass killer, what do you think?” Rev asked.
“Righteous. Totally righteous.”
2
The elderly woman leaned against the desk as she stared at the six Marines, her piercing blue eyes taking each of them apart to their core and finding them wanting. Even the colonel who was in charge of their three-day indoctrination seemed to squirm in his seat.
Finally, she pointed a finger at Ethereal Randigold as if in accusation and snapped, “You. What will be your purpose in the Home Guard?”
Randigold looked around at the others for support, but no one stepped up. “Uh . . . to protect the home system. And the Mother?”
The woman, who had just been introduced as a deputy director of some D-4 subdivision, shook her head. “So, you, a provincial Marine, are going to save the Mother from some threat?” She snorted in disdain.