The Demons of Kor-Lir_The Sleeping Legion Read online

  The Demons of Kor-Lir

  —The Story of The Sleeping Legion: The Prequel—

  Copyright © J. R. Handley 2016

  Cover images copyright © DM7 licensed from shutterstock.com. Background: Beniamin Pop licensed from stock.xchng

  Published by Human Legion Publications

  Also available in paperback

  All Rights Reserved

  HumanLegion.com

  * * *

  This book is dedicated to the memory of Raymond F. Handley, my grandfather, with love. He was one of the most wonderful and loving men to have graced us on this side of heaven. He taught me to love reading, showed me that it could be a refuge when times were hard and a mentor when life was complicated.

  * * *

  — Beta#1 Reader Team —

  Let’s face it, this book couldn’t have been finished without the help of your awesome work. I owe you more than a few silly lines on this page could ever show, so I’ll stick with a simple ‘Thank You’ from the deepest boughs of my heart. — J. R. Handley

  I wish to thank our beta#1 team for this book, who bravely scouted out the first draft searching for hazards. This book is much better for their generous assistance. — Tim C. Taylor (publisher)

  Joseph Driver

  Ashley Ernst

  Thomas Estus

  R. Flair

  Kathy Hite, RN

  Laurie Litchfield

  Sarah S. Reida, Esq.

  CPL Gordon Taylor, 7th Armoured Division, The Desert Rats

  Amanda Webb

  — 2441AD —

  — Order of Battle —

  HUMAN MARINE CORPS

  Tango Squad, Dog Company, 1st Battalion, 941st TAC Regiment

  WREN SHUTTLE OBSERVATION SECTION:

  Captain Grimgerde

  Snr Sergeant Lourdes Fontaine

  Cpl George Bails [Commo Specialist]

  1st SECTION: (LSgt. Nourse)

  ~~ Alpha Fire Team ~~

  LSgt Acheron Nourse

  Marine Alicia Gray [AR]

  Marine Hank DeGross [GR]

  Marine Braden Campen

  ~~ Beta Fire Team ~~

  LCpl Ishrat Runser

  Marine Lance Scipio [AR]

  Marine Chloe Jackson [GR]

  Marine Danika Stone

  2nd SECTION: (Cpl Hauer)

  ~~ Alpha Fire Team ~~

  Cpl Blythe Hauer

  Marine Eric Thalberg [AR]

  Marine Jason de Wit [GR]

  Marine Mira Jones

  ~~ Beta Fire Team ~~

  LCpl Paul Freidman

  Marine Seonaid Tremblay [AR]

  Marine Pearl Hansen [GR]

  Marine Andrew Winkel

  KEY AR-Automatic Rifleman. GR-Grenadier

  — Chapter 01 —

  2441AD, Quarantined Rakasa System

  Auxiliary Hangar Bay, Grendel

  As her squad stood at attention, Veteran Sergeant Lourdes Fontaine performed her ritualized pre-combat inspections. Weapons, check. ACE-2 Combat Suit functioning within parameters, check. Comms, check. AI, check. Sergeant Fontaine could’ve just looked at the status reports for the 1st and 2nd Section of Tango Squad, Dog Company, 941st TAC but she swore that death came to those who trusted their AI too deeply. According to her, only fellow Riflemen were worthy of such a vaunted thing as ‘trust.’ After inspecting both of the sections chosen for this mission, Sergeant Fontaine ordered them to stand at ease. In bygone eras that might have meant something, but for servants of the White Knights it simply meant that what was about to follow was important, so stay at attention but listen.

  “Listen up, Riflemen, I know you just arrived in system so let me give you a quick mission brief,” she shouted. While her suit gave her the capability to talk normally and be heard, she preferred to watch the faces of her Riflemen and hear her own words echo, so she always conducted her briefings sans the helmet. “You were just woken up from your cryo-sleep, having recently graduated from Cadethood. Congratulations, now get the frakk over yourselves because there’s bleeding to be done. You are now safely sheltered in the cocoon of a White Knight Quarantined System, known as the Rakasa System if you have the security clearance to look it up. This system has the standard yellow dwarf sun, three planets in the crispy bacon zone, two habitable planets, and four planets in the frozen foods section. The innermost habitable planet has approximately 29 QEPs surrounding it, and it seems that QEP 16 just went offline. Four maintenance Spacers went to fix the QEP and haven’t been heard from. Our job is to investigate the dranged thing, find out what happened to those valuable Spacer Technicians, and if possible restore the platform to full operational capacity.”

  “Excuse me, Sergeant, but this Marine Rifleman has a question, Sergeant,” shouted the rigid form of Marine Grenadier Jason de Wit.

  Not one to tolerate interruptions to her neatly ordered world, Sergeant Fontaine rushed to stand nose to nose with the rapidly paling form of Jason de Wit. Since de Wit was 6’2” tall, making him at least six inches taller than Lourdes Fontaine, she had to grab his ear so she could pull his face down to her level. When she was satisfied that every ear was straining to hear what she had to say, Fontaine began her lesson. “Grenadier de Wit, you are no longer a Cadet so stow away that sarge sandwich bunk with your pride because you’ve just earned that special place in my life. You’ve become my project. I will do what your Veteran Sergeants in Marine Farm #2 failed to do. I will make you a Marine. Second, before you ask questions you wait for the period of my briefings where I say “Does anyone have any questions?” before you open that pie hole. Finally, if you ever interrupt again I swear by Horden’s Hairy Fanny that I will rip your tongue out of your head and shove it so far up your posterior that you’ll be able to taste your lunch twice. Do you understand me, de Wit?”

  With a noticeably paler complexion and enough sweat on his forehead to swab his habdisk, Jason de Wit nodded his head. Satisfied that she’d accomplished her lesson to her young squad, Veteran Sergeant Fontaine freed de Wit’s throbbing ear, and marched back to the front of her formation. “Very well, now you can ask your question, Grenadier.”

  “Sergeant, what exactly is a QEP?”

  With a laugh, Fontaine resumed her briefing. “If you had waited, you would have heard the answer a few seconds after you so rudely interrupted me, Marine. That was definitely not one of your smartest decisions. A QEP, or Quarantine Enforcement Platform, is a weaponized orbital platform used to enforce blockades and quarantines on any world the White Knights order them parked around. Each one can house a full Marine company, though these are mostly autonomously controlled by AIs.”

  Sergeant Fontaine paced in front of the troops, making eye contact with the squad of Marines.

  “Now, back to my briefing. We will perform these little soirées every time we go out on missions because I don’t believe you have the sense to read and understand your mission reports, and so I will treat you like the wee crèchelings you seem to want to act like and spell it out for you. The QEP in question went dark, approximately nine hours ago and it’s jamming our comms – or something is – so we don’t know what’s going on in there. This is where you come in, you go in, nose around, find the missing Spacers and find out what’s wrong before we risk real Marines. I, along with Captain Grimgerde and Commo Specialist Corporal Bails will monitor the situation in an orbiting Wren Shuttle so we can then relay the situation to the capital ship the Metamorphosis, which is on standby with her compliment of four sleeve ships, the Bardo, Guinshrike, Hrothgar and the Grendel along with various other supporting craft. My Wren Shuttle and your Stork Shuttle will depart the Sleeve Ship Grendel in approximately one
hour to investigate, report and regain control of this system. With the main AI down, we will launch you Marines across about a meter of space until you can secure a way in through the docking ring. The security system locked the doors behind itself when the main AI went offline, your standard White Knight Citadel Mode, so be on alert for automated security measures and you just might live to die another day. Any questions before we board our shuttles?”

  At that moment, again feeling brave or maybe like he had nothing left to lose, Marine de Wit asked another question. “Sergeant, if the AI is down, how will the security system function enough to worry about?” He expected derision, scorn and abuse, but he wasn’t prepared for the laughter which followed his question. Sergeant Fontaine looked at him and asked if he knew anything about the White Knight Empire he served. Marine de Wit answered the only way he could, he informed his sergeant that he knew only as much about their White Knight overlords as his Marine superiors thought was important enough for him to learn as a Cadet.

  Clearly impressed that he had so quickly regained his composure, the sergeant merely nodded. “OK, crècheling, let me give you a brief lesson in interstellar warfare and about the White Knights you serve. One, most travel between systems takes years. This is why you are strapped into cryopods and turned into icicles for the voyage. The fact that traveling across space takes several years means that your base of operations, ergo supplies, is usually years away, making redundancy important. With the AI offline, the White Knight obsession with redundancy means that what is left of the security system could operate independently, at a reduced capacity that is still enough to kill you. Secondly, this redundancy also means that you need to have interchangeable supplies, or you could be stuck in undesirable places for long periods of time. This generally means that most of the stations have interchangeable parts, so it is possible for the main AI to have locked itself down into one of the defensive systems and still be operating at an undetectable level. Finally, the White Knights and the Human Marine Corps don’t care enough about you to get overly upset by the idea that you might finally earn your retirement orders while on patrol. If you learn nothing else from me, you will learn that or die trying. Now, section leaders, when I dismiss the formation you will get your Marines to don their helmets and bring them to attention while I notify the commander that we are ready. Dismissed.”

  With that one little word, Sergeant Fontaine set off a flurry of motion from Corporal Blythe Hauer who quickly went to see why a Marine in her section and on her fire team would bring discredit to her unit. Fontaine pretended not to see Blythe smack the curiosity out of her wayward charge while she strutted out of the Grendel hangar bay to find Captain Grimgerde.

  She didn’t make it far, having just turned the corner in the passageway, when Grimgerde walked towards her. With a quick and stiff pop to attention, Sergeant Fontaine reported that the squad detachment was in formation, and awaiting any final words before boarding their respective shuttles.

  “Very well, Sergeant, let us go impart the knowledge that they carry the honor of their squad and their company with them and proceed to the target,” growled the Jotun officer who embodied the ‘grim’ in her name, with an equally bleak obsidian-colored fur that served to make her presence an especially intimidating one. Captain Grimgerde continued on her path toward the Grendel’s auxiliary hangar bay, leaving Fontaine scurrying to catch up, hardly a dignified sight, but a common one. The alien Jotuns were not just taller and bulkier than humans, they moved faster too.

  When the duo reached the hangar bay the detachment from Tango Squad was indeed waiting for them at a rigid attention, giving Fontaine a glimmer of hope that they might one day make decent Marines.

  “Little crèchelings, you are about to perform your first combat patrol as full Marines.” Unlike most Jotuns, Grimgerde preferred to speak without the aid of a voice box, forcing her Marines to strain to hear and understand her, but ensuring that she always had their full attention. “Remember, your actions reflect upon the honor of your fire team, your squad and company, upon the entirety of the 941st TAC. Proceed with courage and do not let the stink of dishonor sully our good name. I will be monitoring the situation aboard a Wren Micro Shuttle with Corporal Bails and Sergeant Fontaine. Make your TAC proud. Section leaders, begin loading your Marines into the shuttle. Rifleman Scipio, report to Spacer Technician Aura for a replacement AI. Fall out!”

  — Chapter 02 —

  Grendel Technician Bay 12, Evening Watch

  Something told Aura that today would be one to write up in her personal log, though she didn’t know why she had this premonition. She hated these gut feelings; they almost always meant something unpleasant was coming down the pike, and waiting to find out what exactly that entailed was wearing down on her psyche.

  When Ensign Bolverk Five Limbs walked into the tech bay, Aura felt a wave of relief, for she was due a meal break any moment now. He was her superior, but unlike most of the Jotun naval officer corps, he genuinely seemed to care about the humans he led. He had earned the moniker ‘Five Limbs’ when he lost one of his four arms saving a Spacer when the Steadfast went down. This secured him a place in the heart of every Spacer out there, but often made him the butt of jokes among his fellow Jotuns. She wasn’t surprised or disappointed when the officer announced over the Tech Bay 12 intercom: “Knock off ship’s work, Dinner Break commencing now.”

  As soon as Aura stood up to join her colleagues for their evening meal she saw her supervisor motioning for her to stay back. This can’t be good, she thought to herself.

  Aura took a moment to steel herself for whatever was coming. Old Five Limbs didn’t keep her waiting for long. “Spacer Tech Aura, I’m afraid we have some work that needs your capable hands. We have…” Ensign Bolverk glanced down at his data pad before continuing. “We have a young Marine Rifleman, Lance Scipio, coming for an AI swap out. Can you handle that? I believe we have some of the standbys still available?”

  In all of her premonition-fueled foreboding she hadn’t expected this, her shock making her momentarily speechless. “But, sir, the only one we have left is Xena. Her Marine died, sir. She can’t be confirmed stable and fit for use. If you check my report, according to DM 14.2.2 we have to monitor the unit for two years to verify mental integrity of the unit. That unit hasn’t even been observed for four months yet. We can’t possibly…”

  She never finished her sentence because the Ensign cut her off with a quick slap across the face. “That will be ALL, Spacer, orders were meant to be followed.” He growled before softening his approach. “Spacer, orders don’t require our agreement, only our obedience. Ours is not to question the logic of our commanders. I do not like it either, but if this Marine Scipio survives his next battle then the likelihood is that all will be well, so cross your fingers. I know you lack the benefit of the multitude of Jotun limbs, but you young humans can certainly endeavor to learn from your elders. Now, get the AI unit out of its secure housing compartment and prepped for immediate transfer.”

  Sighing, Spacer Aura nodded and snapped off her salute before turning back to her workstation, where she used her access codes to unlock the AI Quarantine Compartment.

  She had just prepped the unit, Xena, for transfer to a new user when the sound of a Marine in ACE Combat Gear clanked in, messing up her perfectly ordered world. She turned to observe this lunk of a Marine saunter in, and was shocked at the physicality of his appearance. He managed to move, while not quietly, as if his combat armor was just another smartfabric fatigue uniform configuration. According to the computer augmentation that was grafted into her brain, he was approximately 6’3” and weighed in at a solid 215 pounds of caramel muscle. If he was anything like his fellow Island Marines, he’d be covered in tattoos, a barbaric art form that those types seemed to love. Unlike his peers, he seemed to have avoided marking that delicious face like his fellow Islanders usually did. Maybe that came later? They decorated themselves, knowing that the art on their bodies was the only in
dividualist possession which their overlords couldn’t take away from them. She much preferred the more disciplined Marines from Marine Farm #1, Beta City as they started calling it in the reports she had just received. Heck, even the Neanderthals from Marine Farm #3 were preferable to the wild look of those Marines from the Island. Wait, wasn’t Marine Farm #3 called Alpha City now? Or was it Alpha Base? These constant name changes which had been happening lately were making it difficult to believe that Tranquility-4 was her ancestral home. She couldn’t help but remember the maxim from her novice instructor: “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

  Who was she kidding? The Marines from the Island might not have the rigid bearing of those from Alpha or Beta City but they certainly dripped with sex appeal. However, while she couldn’t imagine introducing him to the other sailors on her watch rotation, that didn’t mean she couldn’t dream of a frakking in some hidden passageway or compartment. And then he spoke…

  — Chapter 03 —

  Onboard the Stork Class Shuttle

  “Alright boys and girls, listen up,” shouted the pilot. “I am about to patch Sergeant Fontaine through the speaker systems. I suggest you listen, there will be a test afterwards. Petty Officer Jones out.”

  There was a slight crackling of static as the jamming from QEP 16 interfered with their signal before Sergeant Fontaine came over the speaker system. “Okay, Marines, here is the plan. Your shuttle will not dock with the orbital platform, you will un-ass the shuttle like your lives depend on it, because they do, and make sure you don’t dawdle as you cross the void. You do NOT want to miss the station because once the planet’s gravitational well catches you, you are on your own. 1st Section will secure the planet-side pyramid, designated Zone Papa, and 2nd Section will cover the spaceward side, designated Zone Sierra. You will proceed with all haste to the CIC on the platform, investigating as you go, and get the platform operational. Once your side is clear, you will assist the other section as the situation warrants. The interference means you’ll be out of communication with the Wren Shuttle, and possibly each other. I will likely be unreachable, though I should be able to listen in on things. If the Wide Battle Network fails, and we are confident that WBNet already has, remember to check your Local Battle Networks, because LBNet uses line-of-sight comms that are always active, so long as your combat suits can see each other. Never assume your equipment is functioning, always check. Lance Sergeant Nourse, you will maintain tactical control of the mission and of BattleNet until the mission is complete. Don’t touch anything more than you have to in order to accomplish the mission. Now sit tight because you will be debarking in just under ten minutes.”