The Battle of Tangine Read online

  The Battle of Tangine

  Book 2: Humanity War Saga

  For those of you who’ve only read Kara’s Flight before coming to this point, I invite you to go back and read Sovereign Protocol, which is Book 1: Humanity War Saga. For those of you that came directly here from Sovereign Protocol, I invite you to try reading Kara’s Flight, which is the story that captures the adventure of Kara, Jimma, and Sasha as they embark from Unum Planetoid, and fight their way to Tangine Station. Reading it isn’t necessarily critical to keep up with the core Humanity War Saga, however, it does answer many questions, and fill the gaps you may find as we reunite with that thread later in the following chapters.

  Either way, I am pleased to present The Battle of Tangine!

  -Will Crudge, 2017

  The Warriors Awaken

  Location: Unum Headquarters Facility, Unum Planetoid

  Date Time: Post Interstellar 08/02/4201 0842HRS Local

  System: Celeste System

  The stasis pod was in its final stage of reanimation, and the sole occupant began to stir. Flashes of memories flooded his mind, and he began to relive the events that led to his three-year slumber. He had no idea he’d been in suspended animation for that long. He only felt the flashes of memories as being real in the moment.

  “Come at me, you spineless bastards!” The man shouted, as he was completely unaware of his stasis. The horde of unknown assailants fanned out to cover every avenue of escape he might take. The docking structure was bare and utilitarian at best. No walls to compartmentalize the docking assignments could be seen. The hooded figures wore plain gray hooded cloaks of Life Temple Clergy. A few even had the priestly medallion on the Seven-Pointed Path of Life emblem that was commonly worn by the senior clergy members… But these men or women were anything but holy!

  “Come quietly, my friend,” One of the anonymous voices said calmly. The over-confident tone in the male voice only fueled the would-be victim’s rage.

  “I am a UAHC Soldier! None of you dickless morons even bothered to don a suit of armor to boot! I may not have mine on, but I don’t need armor to kick a dozen asses!” He wasn’t exactly sure he was right about that, but he figured there was no point in showing any fear. Fear was the only edge he had.

  “Have it your way, Soldier!” The anonymous voice bellowed out again, but this time with a much more cocky and dismissive tone as before.

  The UAHC Soldier had served more than seventy years in the Fleet and had undergone nearly every possible duty position there was to master. He might not have had his body armor on —which certainly frustrated him—but his neural interface allowed for his neural pathways to lock in any training he’d ever received as if he’d just mastered it. These poor bastards had no idea what was about to hit them!

  He charged to his left where the lines of pseudo-clergy were at their weakest in number. His foes all braced into stances, and a few pulled out low powered pulse pistols.

  At least I know they plan to apprehend, and not kill! He thought as he grabbed the shoulders of the first attacker, he gripped the lose tunic beneath the folds of the outer robe, pivoted his hips, and flipped the faceless enemy to the deck in a loud CRACK! He smoothly transitioned his center of gravity into a defensive stance as he anticipated the closest attacker would be coming for him. He guessed correctly.

  The mountain of a man deflected a roundhouse kick that was targeting his head and neck, and then he stepped back and shifted his weight to his rear leg for a counter kick of the same type. The maneuver was Taekwondo 101, and his low kick smashed his attacker’s mid-section. The man bowled over in pain only to receive a melon-sized fist to the back of the head. Two down, ten to go!

  The Soldier maneuvered to put the next three enemies between him, and the ones that were trying to get a clear shot with their pulse pistols. The closest man or woman sent a barrage of kicks and punches his way, as the two others in their group tried to flank around to either side.

  The UACH Soldier was double the overall body mass of any of the hooded figures and depended on his size to absorb most of the strikes. As big as he was, he was just as fast, but he didn’t have time for a sparring match. He gave the sole attacker a false sense of security as the hooded figure followed up his or her kicks with close in hand strikes. This was when the Soldier had the reach advantage and casually grabbed the attacker with one hand around the neck, and the other in between the legs. Female, he realized.

  Sure enough the feminine scream filled the air and echoed off the exposed superstructure of the docking facility. The hooded female, turned projectile, was now flailing in mid-air helplessly, and she impacted the two pulse pistol carrying men that stood ten meters away. They went down in a clumsy pile, and at least one of them stood back up… albeit slowly.

  The Soldier began trading blows with two more hooded figures, but he kept maneuvering to keep their backs to the remaining attackers but they were too many. The footfalls of several individuals emerged in the periphery of his awareness. He decided he wasn’t going to wait to see if they’d be friendly or not. He kicked a small stack of metal pipes up and into the pair of attackers and didn’t bother to see if his aim was on point. By the time he heard the grunts and swearing of the two attackers, he was already at a dead sprint.

  He cut to the left to put s large row of shipping containers between him and his attackers. He came to the end of the row, and then cut a right turn while skirting the inner bulkhead of the docking area. The sounds of feet pounding the metal decking began to come from different areas. He could only loosely triangulate the sounds, but there were too many to give him any real indication of how seriously fucked he was.

  He quickly started to run out of avenues to throw off his encircling ebonies, and when he turned the last corner that didn’t have signs of pursuers, he hit a dead end. He barely was out of breath despite the physical effort he had just put forth. He also knew that he could out run anyone on foot… provided they weren’t also a heavily trained and partially modded UAHC Soldier as he was.

  Footfalls of the attackers got louder, and he could tell they were beginning to converge into single avenue of approach. Soldiers seldom operated alone but were trained for situations like this. Being isolated from friendly forces was an eventuality in combat, even though it was far from ideal.

  He decided he wouldn’t go quietly. He didn’t know who these attackers were, or what their intentions may be, but he decided it was irrelevant. He wasn’t going to let them have the satisfaction of taking him without a fight. Any animal was at its most fierce when it was cornered.

  He scanned his surroundings for anything that could be useful. Then in the corner of the confined space, he noticed a metal handle for some sort of manual jacking device. It would have to do, he decided. He grabbed the one meter long rod and gripped it by its worn rubberized handle. He widened his stance to center himself, and then closed his eyes to clear his mind.

  After several long and deliberate breaths, he opened his eyes and heard his attackers come within a few short meters of the corner that concealed his location. He figured that they probably didn’t know about the dead end. Good. He might take out the first several bodies that rounded the corner.

  He was right. The first of many cloaked figures came sprinting around the corner as if they were certain he was much further ahead. But they wouldn’t have time to mentally process his trap. Bodies were swatted back to the adjacent wall, as the massive Soldier swung the metal handle in wide arcs. It only took a few short seconds for the rest of the attackers to realize he was waiting for them, but by then at least half a dozen of their comrades were unconscious heaps of flesh and cloth.

  The element of surprise was spent, but he decided he would have to be sati
sfied with taking out several of them before he would inevitably be overwhelmed. The rest of the attackers held back their momentum and began exchanging audible directions to organize their next move. Normally, this would be good INTEL to have, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have freedom of maneuver, armor, or any weapon that wasn’t actually purpose-built to be a weapon. No matter what tactics they’d choose, his own tactics wouldn’t change. They couldn’t. Simple.

  The clang of a flash grenade ricocheted off of the wall and bounced into his small defensive corner. Instinct kicked in. He covered his ears and squeezed his eyelids tightly. The concussive wave of the grenade rose up in his awareness, and he let his eyes come open again. The grenade was intending to make his eyes go blind from the flash, and his ears ring from the concussive noise but these dumb-fucks should have known who they were dealing with.

  A cloaked figure stepped around the corner with a pulse pistol and expected to see a disoriented victim. But there was nothing to see. The pistol-wielding figure was knocked unconscious immediately, and with a single motion, the Soldier divested his attacker of the pistol before he slumped into a motionless heap.

  Even a pansy weapon was better than a stick, the Soldier supposed. The seven some odd bodies littered the attacker’s approach and would at least slow them down enough for at least a few controlled bursts.

  But then the sound of shuffling feet around the corner meant that they were repositioning. Why?

  The answer would come soon enough. The heavy thuds of a single pair of boots grew louder. Powered armor. That’s not good. Soon enough, a large figure lumbered around the corner. Crimson Heavy Infantry Armor.

  Shit! Ordinarily, standard Crimson armor would be no match to UAHC Infantry spec armor… but he had neither. His own strength and bone density were augmented, and he was a purpose-built killer in his own rite, but he wasn’t coming out of this one in one piece.

  The full-faced visor on the red helmet betrayed nothing. But at least the Crimson soldier wasn’t armed. Balls of golden charged energy came out of the UAHC Soldier’s newly acquired pistol. His shots were true, but the pulse pistol was set to low power, and the shots impacted his armored foe’s head harmlessly.

  Double-shit! He had no time to look down and try to find the power settings on the pistol. Even if he could set it to max, the small pistol wouldn’t even mess up the gloss finish on the armor’s red paint.

  The armored soldier reached back over his right shoulder and tilted his head to the left. He pulled a large heavy pulse rifle from his back and leveled it at his future victim.

  “What are you waiting for, jackass?” The UACH Soldier spat in defiance. He decided that although he could be beaten, but he would never be intimidated.

  But the shot never came. The armored figure took a nervous step back and tilted his helmet as if to listen to his internal communications. Something was obviously catching the Crimson soldier’s attention away from his task, but the pulse rifle stayed trained as it had before.

  Screams erupted down the adjacent corridor, and the Crimson armored soldier now scanned his weapon back to whence he had come. I still can’t do anything, he thought. Even if he tried to disarm the armored soldier, he would likely be killed or crippled at the hands of the powered exoskeleton. All he could do was wait.

  Blood spattered from around the corner and all over the powered armor plating. Curses and screams filled the air, and the Crimson infantryman tried to take an aimed shot at something but that something wasn’t going to allow it.

  The powered armor split in half with a spray of sparks, blood, and hydraulic fluid. Metal and flesh collapsed in a visceral pile of techno-carnage. Then the roar of some kind of massive animal echoed through the metal structure and sent chills up the Soldier’s spine. Screaming men and women could be heard, but then abruptly stopped.

  The Soldier now trained his pistol at the new figure that rounded the corner, turned left into the tight corridor, and stopped. He was a tall, lean, but muscular figure with archaic looking ornate armor. The leathery strips of thickly woven fabric and smooth shoulder coverings could only mean one thing. The Soldier lowered his weapon. He knew that the man before him was not his enemy… and even if he was, he would not be stopped.

  The oversized curved blade was covered in blood, but still retained a highly polished luster. The man had long blonde locks that were tied in the back, and his face betrayed angular features.

  Before the Soldier could fully digest the mythical figure he now beheld, a massive tiger rounded the corner. This was no normal tiger. It was immense, muscular, and its muzzle was stained with blood.

  “I am War Master Condor McAlister, and you had better come with me.”

  The stasis pod matched its air pressure with the outside atmosphere, and a whooshing sound filled the Soldier’s awareness. He groaned and fluttered his eyes. Flashes of light were blinding as his eyes began to function on their own for the first time in three years.

  “Fuck me!” he said, as he was struggling to bring himself into the present reality. He felt his blood pressure level out, and tingling feelings pulsed throughout his extremities.

  Stasis. I was in stasis. Now I remember. He had voluntarily put himself in stasis in order to accomplish a new mission. The most important mission he may ever have.

  After several moments, he raised himself up and dared to open his eyes. He adjusted his optics to filter the brightness until he could adjust fully. He turned his head to his left, as he could hear the whooshing sounds of dozens and dozens of other pods as they worked through their reanimation processes and open their seals. The view of thousands of pods was a sight to behold, even though he was aware of his surroundings. They looked to him, like white metallic coffins. He felt anxious as he took stock in the spectacle that surrounded him.

  He vividly remembered how vulnerable he had once been after the UAHC Fleet had placed him into inactive status. He was hunted. He was a lamb for the slaughter.

  “Sergeant Major, Zeff?” The familiar voice caught his attention and he turned to see War Master McAlister standing at the foot of his pod. The mighty tiger, Killjoy was at his side.

  “Condor! It’s good to see you. How long was I out?” Zeff asked, while still rubbing his eyes.

  “About three years.”

  “That’s actually a lot shorter than I ever expected. Some of my UAHC brethren here have been in stasis since before I was even born. I guess we’re at war then?”

  Condor nodded. “It’s the Crimson, as we expected. But it would seem they’ve made their move years before we could have ever predicted.”

  “And the Ghost Fleet?”

  “It’s ready. The Juggernauts are ready as well.” Condor replied.

  “Alright, then. Who’s my CO?” Zeff asked.

  Condor smiled. “You are, Admiral.”

  Clandestine Encounter

  Location: Redacted

  Date Time: Redacted

  System: Redacted

  Military Quorum Councilman Gerhardt followed Keltec’s lead. The non-human biological entity glided gracefully through the ornate archway and led Gerhardt into a large cavernous hall. The picturesque architecture was stunning in Gerhardt’s mind. The vaulted arches reminded him of ancient cathedrals. The walls were adorned with glyphs that resembled advanced geometric patterns, but he could only recognize a few of them. He noticed Pythagorean triangles and a dodecahedron, but the others were totally alien to him. He’d never seen anything like it. Smooth walls glowed softly with similar pinkish and reddish hues as the walkway he had docked his shuttle by.

  Between each archway, there were shrine-like alcoves with a myriad of alien symbols he’d never seen before. Even though humanity knew non-human intelligence existed within the galaxy, contact was rare and, for the most part, unintentional.

  “So, what are these… shrines?” Gerhardt asked.

  “These represent the different races that form the Galactic Council,” Keltec replied casually.

  G
erhardt noticed something catch his eye. It appeared to be a shrine like the others, but this one seemed larger and boasted more artistic detail. He widened his gate and walked directly toward it. It was larger than he’s initially thought, and he had to halt abruptly to take it all in.

  There were symbols like the other shrines, but these were emblazed with gold. I suppose gold is precious to more than just humans after all! He thought. There were depictions of, what he could only guess were, massive starships traveling through unfamiliar constellations. He scanned his eyes upward to see the physical representation of the species themselves. This was a unique feature, he realized. No other shrines had graphical depictions of the races they were meant to represent.

  “Who are they?” Gerhardt asked, but didn’t take his eyes off the shrine. “They kind of look like you, Keltec. But not quite the same.”

  “Because, my friend, Keltec was once a member of that esteemed race.” The male voice was new. Its tone was light and casual.

  Gerhardt turned around and saw a human. Life Priest, by what he could tell. But he was missing the nine-path medallion of one. He was shorter, fit, but somewhat middle-aged. The man approached with his hands loosely clasped in front of him.

  “Call me Val, Councilman,” Val said as he extended a hand in greeting. Gerhardt shook it in kind.

  “Nice to meet you, Val. But another human was the last thing I expected to see in this place.”

  “Naturally. I would be surprised if I were in your shoes as well.” Val smiled and nodded.

  “Val, here, is an old friend of mine. He is an example of what humanity is destined to become. If only the Galactic Council shared my beliefs,” Keltec chimed in.

  “Alas, we must go at it alone,” Val replied, and Keltec nodded in agreement.

  “Go at what alone?” Gerhardt asked as he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He then glanced between the other two to gage a response.