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Song of Redemption
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Song of Redemption 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
1st Edition
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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
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Connect with J.N. Chaney
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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
“Five minutes,” the Navy lieutenant told the platoon. “I want you on board and strapped in sixty seconds after it lands.”
Captain Omestori gave the lieutenant a thumbs-up. They had been ready for an hour now, standing in the hangar while waiting for the OK to leave. As soon as the shuttle returned, they’d board in a moment, happy to get off the ship and down to the planet’s surface.
Sergeant Reverent Pelletier, Perseus Union Marine Corps, shifted his feet, anxious to get on with the mission. “Run Pashu’s checklist again,” he subvocalized.
>
Rev really hadn’t thought that his IBHU, the Integrated Bionic Hoplological Unit that hung from his left shoulder in place of the arm he’d lost fighting the Children of Angels, had somehow gone off-line while he waited in orbit. It was just that as a Marine Raider, he was normally among the first to enter a combat zone rather than sitting fat, dumb, and happy in orbit while other Marines secured a landing zone.
“You doing OK, Rev?” Tomiko asked over the P2P circuit.
“I’m fine. Just want to get going. How about you, element leader?”
“Hell, you used to be the element leader, so how hard can it be?”
“Yeah, you say that, Miko. You’ll see.”
This was going to be the first time in three missions that Rev wasn’t the team’s Second Element leader. In fact, he wasn’t in an element at all. He was the platoon’s package, not a real member, and he didn’t like that one bit.
With him taken out of the chain of command, Sergeant Tomiko Reiser had stepped up to take over. Rev knew that Tomiko would be fine. The only reason he’d been the element leader before was that while they both had the same date of rank, Pelletier came before Reiser alphabetically.
“Keep an eye on Radić. This is his first mission.”
“Ya think? Come on, Rev, I know what I’m doing.”
Rev winced. Tomiko was a hard-charging, kick-ass Marine—and his best friend. But sometimes, he was a little too protective of her, and he’d been on the receiving end of her tirades concerning that on more than one occasion.
“Sorry about that. I just—”
“I know, Rev,” she said, her tone softening. “But I’ve got it. Strap and Carp are experienced.”
But you haven’t worked together for real yet.
With Yazzie killed on TRT-36 and Rev pulled from the element, Tomiko had been left as the sole member. So, Lance Corporals Mordechai “Strap” Gantz from First Element and Tera “Carp” Porter from Second Team had transferred over. And now, with Private Til Radić, so boot he didn’t have a nickname yet, the element was at full strength.
Rev was no longer leading the other Marines, but he couldn’t just turn off his feeling of responsibility. He doubted any Marine sergeant could.
Red lights flashed in the hangar, and a moment later, the Ibis shuttle was pulled through the curtain and over to LP 2 where the tractor beams set it down as gently as a leaf.
Yellowshirts ran out to set the chocks while the Flight Deck Officer shouted, “Go, go!”
The platoon, along with another dozen cats and dogs from other units, ran in a line to the back of the shuttle and up the ramp. Rev, in his privileged position, was the last to board, and he took his seat along the starboard side. It made sense. With Pashu’s bulk, he took up more room, so this put no one on his left. But he knew the real reason. He’d be the first one out, and if the shuttle was hit coming in, he’d have the best chance at survival.
It was Colonel Trejo, the IBHU project manager, who called Rev’s position “privileged.” To Rev, it was more like being in a gilded cage. Being the first one, his IBHU had cost more than a Navy Shrike fighter, and the brass seemed to be afraid to lose their new toy. But if they didn’t want him to fight if the situation was too dangerous, then why develop the weapons system in the first place?
The ship’s tractors lifted the shuttle before the ramp was closed. A few Marines looked up in alarm. Once past the curtain, they’d be in the void, and none of them were geared up for vacuum combat.
But the tractors merely spun the shuttle around, waiting for hull integrity. The ramp sealed shut, the red LEDs flashed to green, and the tractor beams shot the shuttle free. At the required distance from the ship, the shuttle’s engines powered up, and they started the descent to the surface.
“OK, listen up,” the captain passed on the platoon net. “The situation on the ground is hot, but the LZ is secure. As soon as we land, a red-patcher is going to take us to our designated assembly point. I want a three-sixty with Sergeant Pelletier in the center. Remember, we’re one of three reaction forces, so we need to be ready for anything. But based on that last comms before the tin-asses cut them off, be ready sooner rather than later for a frag order.”
Which was pretty much what the update to their operations brief had been four hours before. Evidently, Rev wasn’t the only one tired of sitting back while other Marines were in contact. The captain, too, was itching to get involved. Raiders were the point of the spear, not the ones in the rear with the gear.
This wasn’t going to be a nice, easy descent. The Union Navy might control the space around Mistake, but it certainly didn’t control the surface where an estimated two hundred-plus Centaurs were doing their best to throw off the landing. The shuttle, on full autopilot corkscrewed in, braided around the big terajoule beamer shots of one of the Navy monitors. With shields on full, there was no power for artificial gravity.
For all of Rev’s combat capabilities, he had what was referred to as a delicate stomach. He fought it while in null-G, trying to keep his breakfast down, but when they hit the atmosphere, with all the maneuvering, it was too much.
“Give me the antiemetics!” he gasped out.
A moment later, the need to puke lessened to merely tolerable. He gave a big sigh, then looked up to catch Hussein’s deadpan stare. Rev wanted to sneer back, but he didn’t have the energy. The other Marine had a stomach of steel, and nothing bothered him.
Rev ignored him. It didn’t seem right to him, no matter how logical it was.
The shuttle lurched again, and that threatened to send him off once more, but with pure willpower, he forced the gorge back down.
“You surviving?” Tomiko asked.
Rev didn’t answer but gave her a weak thumbs-up. He swore that the brass made the ride that rough on purpose, making the Marines so pissed off that they would rush out of the shuttle despite intense enemy fire, rather facing that than getting bounced around like ping pong balls. The weird thing was that while he felt like he was as weak as a kitten, he knew the moment they hit the ground, he would be fine, ready and raring to go.
The shuttle shuddered, a bright flare filling the cabin, and all thoughts of nausea disappeared. Red lights flashed, and air started whistling out a few seats forward of Rev. One of the crew ran back, pushed PFC Tensley Accra out of the way, and shot the bulkhead with what looked like whipped cream. He stared at it for a moment, his body tense, before he relaxed and started saying something over his throat mic.
“Were we hit?” Acra asked.
“We’d be dead already if we’d been hit,” the sailor said with a condescending roll of his eyes. He looked at all the Marines, the eyes of every one locked onto him. “No, folks, we’re OK. The shielding held. Just a stress fracture. Popped a seam. I got it fixed.”
He waved the can around so everyone could see.
“I think I about shit myself,” Tomiko passed.
“You and me both. I guess this is one of the downsides of coming in late to the party. Let’s just put this sucker down and get dirt under our feet.”
“And I guess that’s why they split you guys up.”
Rev knew that “you guys” meant him and the other two IBHU Marines. Not only were they going planetside on different shuttles, they had also made the passage to Mistake aboard different ships. “Spread loading,” the military called it. Lose one ship, and there were still two IBHU Marines making it to the planet.
Rev was the first IBHU Marine, but six weeks ago, he’d been joined by Corporal Thesbian “Backstop” McAnt. McAnt was a former supply clerk who’d lost his right hand and halfway up his lower arm to friendly fire when a Navy Shrike had hit their supply dump. He’d agreed to the IBHU a
nd had been transferred to the Raider Platoon’s Second Team. For the first four weeks, Rev and Top Thapa had been pushing McAnt hard, bringing him up to speed as a Raider. The next two weeks had been working with his team, integrating them into a semblance of a fighting unit. McAnt wasn’t there yet as far as being a grunt, but his IBHU made up for a lot of that.
Then, ten days ago, Private First Class Ethereal Randigold had joined Bravo Reconnaissance Company’s Raider platoon at Camp Falcon. Rumor had it that she’d been badly burnt in a fire, losing both arms and a leg among her other injuries. The three IBHUs had been scheduled to train together next week, but this mission popped up. Rev was a little hesitant about having a boot IBHU, on a combat mission, but the plan wasn’t to have them operate together. They and their teams would be three separate reaction forces, ready to reinforce where needed.
Where and when that would be depended on the ground situation. Rev looked over at the newly promoted captain, wondering if he should ask if the platoon commander knew how things were going in the fight. But with comms out on the planet’s surface, he wouldn’t know much more than what they’d already been told.