[Ruins of the Galaxy 09] • Rise of the Gladias · A Military Scifi Epic (Ruins of the Galaxy Book 9) by Chaney J.N. & Hopper Christopher

Author:Chaney, J.N. & Hopper, Christopher [Chaney, J.N. & Hopper, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0872KKCY3
Goodreads: 53710879
Publisher: Variant Publications
Published: 2020-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

Wainright couldn’t believe that he and General Lovell were still in this fight. Not this exact contest so much the whole damn conflict. Oorajee, Capriana, Minrock Santari, and Aluross—they’d seen action on all of them. And now here they were on some uncharted alien planet in a whole new universe. If he survived and settled down, Wainright figured he’d be the coolest Neo Repub Marine grandpa in his neighborhood.

“Hey, didn’t your grandad get abducted by Jujari on Oorajee?” he imagined one kid saying to his grandson.

“And lived to tell about it,” his grandson would say, puffing his chest out in pride. “Still has the scars where they drained his blood and killed him a hundred-bundred times.”

The other neighborhood kids would shudder and wonder if they had enough courage to ask Grandpa Wainright to show his scars. Which, of course, he would. They’d be sipping fresh-squeezed premmble juice on the front porch, and he’d lift his shirt over his kidneys. The kids would scream, and half would run away. Then his wife would scold him for being so mean to the children. He’d laugh, kiss her, and then intentionally spill his premmble juice on her blouse so she’d have to change.

His wife.

The one who’d been killed by the Paragon when they torched Capriana Prime.

The wife he never got to say goodbye to because she failed to board the transport sent to rescue her. But then Wainright checked the logs. There was no Paragon shuttle sent for her.

The images of grandchildren, scaring the neighborhood kids, and spilling premmble juice vanished. All because Soldark stole her. Because he lied. Like so many other Marines who’d lost loved ones that day, Wainright wasn’t fighting to keep himself alive; he was already dead inside. He was just fighting to keep everyone else alive. And to stick it to Soldark, once and for all.

“Captain,” Lovell yelled, perhaps for the third time. “I need to know you heard me.”

“Sorry, General. Yes—copy.” Wainright nodded. “Mortars.” He’d been absently touching the armor plates above his kidneys. “On it.”

Wainright ordered his lieutenant to deploy six Marine mortarmen teams into position and swiped coordinates into the subordinate’s HUD with a flick of his eyes. The Recon Mark VII armor, combined with the latest AI patch, made troop tactical movement even more user-friendly. The teams acknowledged the lieutenant’s command with confirmation icons and moved into position. In less than thirty seconds, the Marines had their MTR40 mortar systems deployed with target areas set.

“Fire at will,” Wainright said.

The lieutenant relayed the order, and the mortar teams sent ordnance flying. The MTR40s shells made the telltale trill sounds as they hurtled through the air. Then, one by one, the munitions detonated in bright orange blossoms in the streets to the west. Repub Marines further down let out whoops and catcalls, urging the mortarmen to send a second and third volley into the secdim masses, which they did. Damn Rink-Ba might have been right about his Li-Dain’s Unity powers being more effective for this particular

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