Anthem: Earth Song, #5

By Mark Wandrey

The clouds of war continue to darken for humanity as Gregg and his Ranger forces are forced to fight yet another higher order species, the Mok-Tok, and it is obvious they were set up. Worse, the First Among the Chosen has decided not to rescue the Rangers; they will be left to die.

 

Minu Groves doesn't believe in leaving people to die, though, so she embarks on a rescue mission with her friends and the Kaatan-class ship run by her daughter. Before she can bring the war to a conclusion, though, events outside her control force her to turn aside, adding the Mok-Tok to the list of races who want human blood.

 

The T'Chillen and the Tanam, two other higher order species, are both close to vendetta with humanity, and both have plans to end humanity for good they are actively putting into action.

 

And, as if more enemies were needed, the alien Grent are acting in the wings, aiding humanity's enemies, and no one knows what game they are playing—not even the races the Grent are helping.

 

Beset by enemies on every side, Minu is forced to rely on her friends and her daughter, and only one question remains…will that be enough?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theogony Books
• Release date: Nov 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9781948485586

Book preview

Anthem

Book Five of the Earth Song Cycle

By

Mark Wandrey

PUBLISHED BY: Theogony Books

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Copyright © 2018 Mark Wandrey

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All Rights Reserved

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Get the free prelude story "Gateway to Union"

and discover other titles by Mark Wandrey at:

http://worldmaker.us/

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Get the free Four Horsemen prelude story "Shattered Crucible"

and discover other Theogony Books titles at:

http://chriskennedypublishing.com/

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Cover Design by Brenda Mihalko

Original Art by Ricky Ryan

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License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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Dedication

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To my fans, for loving Minu and the Chosen. To Chris Kennedy for whipping this into shape. And to my wife, Joy, and son, Patrick; all my love, always.

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Contents

Part I

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

Part II

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Interlude

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Part III

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

Epilogue

About the Author

Excerpt from Book Six of the Earth Song Cycle:

Excerpt from Book One of The Seventh Shaman:

Excerpt from Book One of the Lunar Free State:

Excerpt from Book One of This Fine Crew:

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Part I

Chapter 1

May 5th, 534 AE

Planet Richter, Geosynchronous Orbit, Galactic Frontier

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While I’ve been gallivanting across the galaxy my best friend and hundreds of Rangers have been dying, Minu excoriated herself. While she sat and brooded, her husband, Aaron, left her largely alone and talked with the Rasa. He could see what was going through her mind. They were thousands of light years away from Planet K, where Gregg was trapped fighting aliens. Of course, what was thousands of light years when you had a Kaatan? Known to The Lost as a ship of the line, they were the quintessential expression of power left over from a war many thousands of years prior.

Her nominal boss, Jacob Bentley, First Among the Chosen, had said he was writing off Gregg and the entire 1st Division of Rangers. Gregg had sent her a message weeks ago, which she had only just received, saying Jacob was using the Rangers as mercenaries. She should have gotten back in touch sooner, but she’d been on the lam—she had left without permission. Her friend Dram had gotten authorization for her after the fact, but he couldn’t fix the problem with Gregg and his Rangers.

She’d been chewing the details for almost an hour, finally deciding it had to be done. Aaron, get us off this rock, she said. Let’s go back to the ship.

You got it, he said, and the shuttle lifted a few seconds later.

Minu called up to Pip in orbit and told him what they needed to do.

Minu, this is going to be difficult, her friend said with his eyelids half open.

You really think so? Minu asked. She rode in the copilot seat as her husband piloted the shuttle back to the ship. To be more precise, Lilith piloted from inside the Kaatan while Aaron watched to see if he was needed. The squad of Rasa were in the rear, chatting in their hissing language. Minu couldn’t figure out Pip’s unusual response.

Yes, very difficult. There have been developments...I am trying...

Pip, what the hell is going on with you?

I....I...Minu...damn— The transmission ended.

Lilith, what’s up with Pip?

He overloaded his implants, her daughter explained. He should have down-timed more than twelve hours ago.

Minu shrugged. Pip usually dealt with it without anyone else being aware. Why does he have these issues? Don’t the two of you share similar...modifications?

I was born with mine; the Medical Intelligence improvised his as a work-around to his brain damage. It is possible over time he will develop the means to handle these overloads. However, given his propensity to use the implants as extra data storage and processing facilities—

I get the point. Could you please send Cherise down to make sure he didn’t fall down and give himself another brain injury?

Lilith agreed, and the shuttle rocketed from the atmosphere and was guided aboard the cruiser by carefully-controlled beams. Minu and Aaron hopped down from the craft as it settled to the deck, with the Rasa soldiers close behind. Cherise met them in the hall outside the shuttle bay.

He’s fine, she told them. I found him out like a light on the floor of the tactical drive room.

He must have been talking to the space spiders, Aaron guessed.

Minu nodded, she often felt like passing out whenever she talked to the strange beings known as the Weavers. We need a meeting to discuss our plans, she told them.

A few minutes later she had gathered Aaron, Cherise, and Kal’at—one of the Rasa—in their version of the Combat Information Center, or CIC. Lilith hovered in a holographic form from her position in the main CIC, two decks down. Her virtual presence was so common, no one took notice of it any more.

Minu started by giving a detailed report on the situation on Planet K. Gregg was there with the 1st Division to fight the Leesa and gain control of Planet K as part of a mercenary contract. Chosen Command had lost contact with them after learning the Tower Spire was no longer in the Ranger’s control. Contact hadn’t been restored, and Jacob was writing them off.

He’s just abandoning them there?! Cherise exclaimed when Minu finished.

You can’t honestly say you’re surprised, Aaron replied.

"It is an act we would more have expected from the old leaders of our species, Kal’at said, although not from Var’at. He has learned much from you, Minu Groves." Minu nodded to acknowledge the compliment.

What is your intention, mother? Lilith asked. Besides rescue, of course. How do you propose we go about this?

We could just fly there and shoot the shit out of the little reptile bastards, Aaron suggested, then glanced self-consciously at Kal’at. Nothing personal. Kal’at gave a very human shrug.

The Leesa must have help, Minu pointed out. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to pin down an entire division of Rangers and take the portal.

A reasonable tactical analysis, Lilith concurred. The offensive and defensive capabilities of the Rangers are far in excess of anything a minor species is capable of employing. This is a principal reason they have proven so popular in these sorts of mercenary contracts.

So we can assume they’re facing something more, Minu continued. Either an alliance of more than one minor species...

Or a higher order big-bad-guy, Cherise finished for her. Minu looked down and nodded. Oh lord, here we go again, Cherise added.

Aaron laughed. The good news is we’re running out of higher order species to piss off.

You are not helping, husband. He smirked, and Minu continued, We have to go and help them; can we all agree on that? Everyone nodded, including Lilith. Good. So, the question we’re left with is how to accomplish that with a minimum of random destruction.

I doubt any planet-bound force would present a real problem for me, Lilith noted.

Remember the minimum random destruction clause?

Lilith managed to look offended in her hologram. Mother, I am capable of surgical precision, even from orbit.

Against dug in enemy units inside facilities such as the Portal Spire?

Lilith shrugged slightly and glanced off screen. "There would be some collateral damage. It is impossible for there not to be some in any military engagement."

I believe it would be more efficient to engage from the ground with orbital support, Minu said while everyone else considered.

The problem would be sufficient force to make a difference, Aaron pointed out. One squad of Rasa soldiers and ourselves are not exactly a force to strike fear into the hearts of most Concordian militaries.

We could evacuate your soldiers to this ship, Kal’at suggested.

I lack the capacity for that many passengers, Lilith quickly replied. Perhaps a hundred for a short FTL jump, but no more.

Ten trips, Minu thought silently. From a screen next to her chair, she called up the star charts around Planet K. The nearest world the ship knew to be habitable was eleven light years away and did not hold a portal. Six hours each way, plus extraction time with the ship’s four shuttles. Call that two hours. Maybe one and a half if they used the Phoenix shuttle as well. A conservative estimate was 160 hours. Even if they could hold off the enemy that long, it meant abandoning all the Ranger’s hardware on planet, and probably spending a lot of their lives to buy the time. Then of course they’d have to make a second jump to a planet with a portal. No, that really wasn’t an option.

No, she said solemnly, we need another option. And then, it came to her. Oh, Jacob will be pissed, she thought. Too damned bad.

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Chapter 2

May 8th, 534 AE

Planet K, Contested Territory, Galactic Frontier

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Here they come again.

Gregg looked up from his tablet. It was his second, and the last one he’d brought on the deployment—the previous one had stopped a grazing beamcaster round. He tapped an icon on the tablet, and the projector next to his right eye sent images from the virtual battlefield right into the eye.  Beta was heavily engaged by a company of heavy tanks. There were using their heavy beamcasters to hold them at bay, but only barely. He suspected a major attack would follow. Noted, he replied to his assistant. Move up Gamma, with Delta to reinforce the left flank. Bump Kappa; tell them to get the crews to their Lancers. The man nodded and began keying the orders into his tablet. Gregg grit his teeth at the thought of committing the Lancers again. He’d lost one three days ago; they were down to only eight left, but they were the only effective counter to the cursed Mok-Tok heavy tanks. Even concentrated shock rifle fire was ineffective.

Energy weapon artillery tore at the building a few hundred meters from his command post. The building, once a warehouse, was obliterated and scattered for hundreds of meters in every direction. Gregg cursed and watched as two squads of Rangers flashed off his virtual battlefield. Have the Scouts found the damned artillery yet?

They keep moving them, sir, the assistant replied. Gregg knew the shambling mounds only possessed three of them. They’d started with six, but the Rangers had taken out three in a lighting raid that cost him an entire company. He wanted to believe it was worth the sacrifice. The only problem was the enemy controlled the portal, and thus access to reinforcements. Gregg could neither reinforce, retreat, nor reequip. His troops were running low on everything—especially time—but he still had an ace in the hole.

He wasn’t sure what he was saving it for. He lacked the support he’d need to begin an assault against the Portal Spire. The Leesa and their surprise allies, the Mok-Tok, were heavily fortified there with tanks and heavy beamcasters far up the spire. He was sure they could force entry, and possibly evacuate. He was also sure he’d lose a battalion or more in the attempt. He’d already lost half a battalion. His options were quickly diminishing.

Have Alpha fall back to location Tango-Delta Two. They need a few hours of downtime. Have recon verify line of sight from the damned Portal Spire so we can avoid direct fire and clear those lines. Another acknowledgement, and he turned back to his tablet. How long could he continue to hold out? Two hours? Two days? Two weeks? He didn’t know; he only knew he would hold as long as he could. Something would turn up. A chance, an error by the enemy he could exploit. He still had over two thousand well-trained soldiers at his command. Another building exploded a kilometer away, and more icons winked out.

* * *

Gregg watched the technician work frantically to bring the heavily-damaged craft back to life. The Lancer had been raked by beamcaster fire, shorting out a dozen key systems as its shields imploded. Somehow, the pilot had managed to bring the craft back and save the two squads of Rangers he’d flown in to rescue. Now down to only five of the versatile fighter/transports, the cost had been dizzying.

Any chance? he asked the tech, a young woman from the Summit tribe.

Her emerald-green eyes regarded him, and she squinted as she thought. I can get you fighter or transport, she told him. No way both. And only two of the four shields will ever work again.

Fighter then, he said without hesitation.

Two hours earlier, the scouts had located another set of Portals five kilometers away in an industrial complex, and the leader was certain they were active. But there were two problems.

He didn’t know where they went, and they were being guarded. Should he eliminate the outpost, the shambling mounds would know what the Rangers were up to. Worse, he also would have to disengage and move his surviving forces five kilometers to evacuate it. During an orderly deployment, he could move his division through a single Portal in three hours. In this situation, it would take twice that, unless they dropped everything and ran.

Gregg scowled at the virtual battlefield one more time and looked for other options. There simply weren’t any. Inform all battalion commanders to begin preparing plans for a final offensive, he told his assistant. Tomorrow, we’re getting out of here.

* * *

Pip sat up with a jerk, shaking his head and trying to come to full consciousness through a thick layer of mental flotsam. It was the first time in years he’d had a full mental crash because of overloaded implants. In the early days after returning to wakefulness, it had happened often, though only for moments. None of his friends had noticed. This time, the incident embarrassed him.

He felt the sore spot on the side of his head. Had he actually collapsed in the tactical drive bay? So much for his effort to cultivate an image of infallibility. He didn’t think it was working anyway.

His implants finished initializing, and he checked for elapsed time. It had been seven hours, the longest he’d ever been out against his will. And then he saw what had changed on the ship.

Lilith, he called out, knowing she would hear him.

Yes, Pip? I’m glad you are awake.

We’ve made a tactical jump, he stated.

Two, she confirmed. Mother wants you to join us in the CIC.

Pip changed his uniform and quickly made his way to the small, secondary CIC. When he arrived, the door opened for him, and he floated in. He was both surprised and unsurprised at the image of space beyond the hull of the Kaatan.

Minu, Pip, Aaron, Cherise, and Kal’at waited for him. Lilith was present remotely. I have to tell you about something important I figured out.

It can wait, Minu said, gesturing to the wall.

Pip looked for a second before realizing what he was looking at. What are we doing back here?

Gregg is trapped on Planet K and under siege, Minu began and quickly brought him up to speed.

You already have a plan, he said. Don’t you?

I do, she admitted and pointed at something that floated in the foreground of the display.

How are we going to manage that?

Not us... Minu said.

You, Lilith spoke up.

Pip snorted and laughed deeply. You honestly think I can do that?

Lilith does, Minu said. We all agree it’s the most logical approach.

Everyone except me.

You won’t do it? Aaron accused.

Pip narrowed his eyes and almost said no.

Gregg is your friend, too.

You don’t know what you are asking me to do, Pip said, looking at Minu.

I know perfectly well what I’m asking. I want you to put the life of your friend and thousands of Rangers above your personal comfort zone.

Pip felt his face getting hot. She’d hit home with that one.

It’s within my authority to make it an order, Minu stated.

But you won’t, Pip chided. You’re all about personal choice and greater sacrifice. He’d tried to hurt her with that one. It didn’t quite work as he’d planned.

I’ve given plenty of flesh and bone, she reminded him, a hard edge to her voice.

She didn’t have to hold up the cybernetic arm or show off the deep scars on her legs, or even remind him of the circumstances of Lilith’s birth. If any Chosen came close to her level of sacrifice, it was he.

Maybe that was his issue with the situation. Didn’t many consider what she’d given up greater than what he’d offered to the service? After all, what did he do except nap for years? Pip clenched his teeth at the thought. No one, especially Minu, would say something like that. I really am a selfish asshole, he thought. And it was his selfish part that decided to keep a secret for a while longer.

I don’t know if it’s possible, he finally said.

Lilith says it is.

Okay. I’ll try.

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Chapter 3

May 8th, 534 AE

T’Chillen Command Ship, Deep Space, Galactic Frontier

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Singh-Apal Katoosh waited patiently in the meeting room for his guests, tail swishing slowly from side to side. Two females coiled by a side entrance, heads held low, watching the Grand Admiral with concern.

They lived in fear of all the males of their species and in terror and dread of the high-ranking males. A low-ranking male would not kill a useful female for any reason, especially one who carried out important technical or scientific duties.

But a high-ranking male, especially one above all but the great head of the T’Chillen, could do anything he wanted. And Singh-Apal Katoosh was known for his extraordinarily short temper.

Where is the damned shuttle? he hissed and spun to face the pair of females.

They threw themselves flat on the floor, quivering in fear. Singh-Apal spat in frustration and gestured with a serpentine arm for them to rise far enough to respond.

Great Grand Admiral, the senior of the two spoke, her hissing so quiet it was almost indiscernible over the sound of the ship’s atmosphere recycling system. They docked a minute ago and should be here shortly.

He didn’t acknowledge her but turned to stare at one of the space’s holographic displays. He’d never been good at waiting. Rising in the ranks had not helped. Luckily for his underlings, a chime announced the guests’ arrival. Show them in, he hissed.

The females left through the main exit, and a moment later, the door reopened. Of course, Singh-Apal’s sensitive nose picked up the beings’ scent before he saw them.

As per the agreement, there were three, which was fitting. Each of the giant, furry beasts had three massive limbs and moved like a shellfish. Their legs ended in massive claws, and Singh-Apal knew they could tear even a powerful T’Chillen warrior to pieces.

More disturbing was that these massively powerful things were not the Mok-Tok, themselves, only part of them. Little was known about them except that they were symbiotic. It was a disconcerting combination of brain and brawn, because the Mok-Tok were among the most ingenious of the higher order species.

We have come as requested, a voice spoke from Singh-Apal’s translator.

Counting on the defensive measures in place, the T’Chillen Grand Admiral approached the massive Mok-Tok, carefully bowing his hooded head, eyestalks watching for any sign of treachery.

He knew treachery was unlikely. The Mok-Tok rarely endangered themselves. They preferred to let lesser species or bots do their fighting. The T’Chillen acknowledge you. May we know to whom we speak?

It matters little, but I am Squadron Commander Ok-al-na.

I am Grand Admiral Singh-Apal Katoosh, high leader of the T’Chillen.

Very well, proceed with the purpose of this meeting.

Singh-Apal nodded to the female technician, and one wall of the meeting room became transparent, showing space outside. Even from hundreds of kilometers, the shattered hulks of spaceships were discernible. Some still showed plumes of outgassing or flashes of explosions. We’ve defeated you again.

You have a point to make? Bluntness and arrogance were common among the Mok-Tok. There will be more battles, and you will not win them all.

You surely know you are facing new ships. The Mok-Tok’s physiology made it impossible to see their reactions. His own species had very few facial reactions, as they had evolved from serpentine reptiles. However, the silence that met his comments spoke volumes. We also know you are using new ships.

We are listening.

I and the high command are willing to wager you have obtained these ships from the same source from which we obtained ours.

Our leaders consider the same possibilities.

Then speak the source, and we will consider.

The reply was a single word, one Singh-Apal had never heard another species speak. Grent.

Indeed, he replied. The Grent.

Now we both understand, the Mok-Tok said. Singh-Apal gestured dismissively with his tail spike, forgetting the other species would not understand. What you may not realize is the Tanam have likewise been gifted.

The cats? he spat. They barely have enough ships to defend their holdings. If it were not for their tenacity in ground combat, they would have long ago left the platform of the higher order species.

That may be the case, but it does not alter the facts.

Singh-Apal considered for a moment. And the Tog?

We have no evidence either way.

We are being manipulated by the Grent.

It is what they do.

Singh-Apal cursed. It doesn’t bother you that we are at each other’s throats because of a legendary species many thought gone?

You T’Chillen have short memories. We remember the last time the Grent were among us. Every time, they turn species against each other for their own advantage.

Then why are we doing this?

Two of the Mok-Tok shifted positions, but Singh-Apal did not know if it was a result of their conversation. That was when he realized he had no way of knowing which creature he was talking to. Or was it all of them? Because if we do not accept their gifts, someone else will, was their final answer.

So, what will be the result of this? We battle each other until there is a clear winner?

Perhaps.

Then what? Silence stretched out for long moments. There may be an alternative.

We are listening.

The two most powerful spacefaring species are in this room. Very little stands between us and control of everything. If we were to join forces...

The Mok-Tok and the T’Chillen together? To what end?

The bitter end, Singh-Apal thought. At least until they’d dealt with a few other problems. I can see only a few threats to our controlling the entire Concordia.

Then what is the purpose of the Concordia?

Species, especially the lesser ones, need some sort of government, a structure to live within. With our two powerful forces, the Mok-Tok and the T’Chillen, holding the reins of power, we can restore order and again begin expanding our empires. We can locate and ensure constant availability of the assets the Grent provide and exploit additional ones.

What of the fleet of Lost ships you are hoarding?

We have never been able to access them.

With our help that may be possible. Singh-Apal mused quietly. He was going beyond his authority as the Grand Admiral of the T’Chillen by proposing an alliance, and it was unlikely the high command would agree to such a proposal.

Of course, he controlled all the fleets. How difficult could it be to simply take the council over or replace it outright? The Mok-Tok were much better scientists than his own people. Maybe they could access the frustrating firebase control programming and the incredibly powerful, ancient starships.

We would require seventy-five percent of the ships.

The Mok-Tok agree to give the T’Chillen fifty percent.

Did this being have the authority to bargain? Singh-Apal almost laughed. We could settle for seventy percent.

* * *

The three Mok-Tok had been gone for half an hour, but their smell still lingered, a rotting carpet of damp fur with a slight hint of feces. He wished he’d chosen a room farther from his office on the battlecruiser.

He kept staring at the communication system nervously, afraid that at any moment the Grent’s voice would come from it, aware of what Singh-Apal had done behind its back. Or, the ship would simply explode.

He’d heard of such things happening, in the dark recesses of history. He snorted and spat some venom on the floor. Those were legends told to scare hatchlings. But those legends spoke the truth, sometimes.

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Chapter 4

May 9th, 534 AE

Planet K, Contested Territory, Galactic Frontier

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The breakout was a disaster from the opening shots. As soon as the Second Battalion spearhead slammed into the forward, defensive elements of Leesa defending the Portal Spire, a Mok-Tok company hit the Rangers hard in their left flank.

Where the hell did they come from? Gregg yelled over the thunder of the heavy beamcaster fire pounding his command post. Shock rifles cracked in ragged order, trying to suppress the incoming fire with little success.

The Mok-Tok took advantage of the massive, brute force of their symbionts to turn huge dualloy plates into shields to protect their weapons. The attack quickly stalled, and his rear was in danger. It looked like he wasn’t going to find a way out. The small group of Portals the scouts found days earlier appeared to be their only option. The Portals were defended, but not like the Portal Spire.

Commander, called his CP communications lead. We have an urgent contact request.

What now? Gregg moaned inwardly. Which unit?

Not a unit, he said and patched the communication through to Gregg.

...respond...I say again, Ranger First Division Actual, please respond.

Gregg’s jaw dropped. There was no mistaking Minu’s voice, but there was no way she was there. Unless... Ranger First Division Actual here. Boss, what the fuck?!

Stories later, old friend, the cavalry has arrived.

Gregg shook his head in amazement.

What are you facing down there?

Mok-Tok armored elements and an assload of Leesa.

Understood. Upload the virtual battlefield; we don’t have a lot of time.

* * *

This is not a good idea, Minu thought as she rode in darkness. Throughout her Chosen career, she’d never feared the long odds. But this felt like borderline insanity. There were too many factors, too many unknowns, and she knew too little about what she was attempting. The only thing she was certain of was that if she didn’t act immediately, Gregg’s division was in danger of being completely wiped out.

Going against the shambling mounds was not something she looked forward to. Was humanity going to have to battle all the higher order species, one after another? There