Valhalla Awaits (The Last Marines Book 6), page 1
Valhalla Awaits
Book Six of The Last Marines
By
William S. Frisbee Jr.
PUBLISHED BY: Theogony Books
Copyright © 2023 William S. Frisbee, Jr.
All Rights Reserved
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Get the free Four Horsemen prelude story “Shattered Crucible”
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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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Cover Design by J Caleb Design.
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Contents
Chapter One: Ashen Rain
Chapter Two: Interrogation
Chapter Three: Alliance Fleet
Chapter Four: Father
Chapter Five: Trial
Chapter Six: Dominant Archetype
Chapter Seven: End of Trial
Chapter Eight: Forging
Chapter Nine: Feng’s Advice
Chapter Ten: Briefing
Chapter Eleven: Astral Search
Chapter Twelve: Skadi Lives
Chapter Thirteen: Endless Mile
Chapter Fourteen: Secret Base
Chapter Fifteen: Decoy
Chapter Sixteen: Base Assault
Chapter Seventeen: Space Battle
Chapter Eighteen: Defending
Chapter Nineteen: Monsters
Chapter Twenty: Check Point One
Chapter Twenty-One: Eagle’s Escape
Chapter Twenty-Two: Niels’ Death
Chapter Twenty-Three: Stern Chase
Chapter Twenty-Four: Sol Attacked
Chapter Twenty-Five: Calling for Help
Chapter Twenty-Six: Earth Orbit
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Boarded
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Virginia
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Tyr’s Doom
Chapter Thirty: Boarding the Tyr
Chapter Thirty-One: The USA
Chapter Thirty-Two: Counterattack
Chapter Thirty-Three: Insane
Chapter Thirty-Four: President Becket
Chapter Thirty-Five: Incoming
Chapter Thirty-Six: Presidential Interview
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Happy Birthday Marines
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Enslaved
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Vanhat Fleet
Chapter Forty: Breaking Chains
Chapter Forty-One: Skadi’s Resistance
Chapter Forty-Two: The Alien
Chapter Forty-Three: The Betrayed
Chapter Forty-Four: Pankhurst Assault
Chapter Forty-Five: Cafeteria
Chapter Forty-Six: Mathison
Chapter Forty-Seven: Freedom
Chapter Forty-Eight: Lunch
Chapter Forty-Nine: Waiting
Chapter Fifty: Company
Chapter Fifty-One: Mathison’s Room
Chapter Fifty-Two: Summoned
Chapter Fifty-Three: Patrol Prep
Chapter Fifty-Four: Combat Patrol
Chapter Fifty-Five: Hell Wolves
Chapter Fifty-Six: Winters
Chapter Fifty-Seven: Ambush
Chapter Fifty-Eight: Feng
Chapter Fifty-Nine: Return of the Hell Wolves
Chapter Sixty: Dragon
Chapter Sixty-One: Plan E
Chapter Sixty-Two: Trapped
Chapter Sixty-Three: Stathis
Chapter Sixty-Four: Battle for the Tyr
Chapter Sixty-Five: Uplink
Chapter Sixty-Six: Hang Tight
Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Tyr
Chapter Sixty-Eight: Distant Whispers
Chapter Sixty-Nine: Hacking
Chapter Seventy: Valhalla
Chapter Seventy-One: Shuttle
Chapter Seventy-Two: Peacekeeper
Chapter Seventy-Three: Landing Zone
Chapter Seventy-Four: Valhalla
Chapter Seventy-Five: Kurchatov
Chapter Seventy-Six: The Pankhurst
Chapter Seventy-Seven: Lucifer
Chapter Seventy-Eight: Losing Hope
Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Return
Chapter Eighty: Rescue
Chapter Eighty-One: Banished
Chapter Eighty-Two: Prisoners
Chapter Eighty-Three: The End
Author’s Afterward
About William S. Frisbee, Jr.
Excerpt from Book One of the Chimera Company:
Excerpt from Book One of the Abner Fortis, ISMC:
Excerpt from Book One of the Echoes of Pangaea:
Excerpt from Book One of the Lunar Free State:
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Chapter One: Ashen Rain
General Becket, Commandant USMC, President of the USA
Ashen rain hammered the torn, death-strewn landscape. Quantico, Virginia, was no longer recognizable. Most people thought America was a dead place, where nothing lived anymore. They thought nothing could survive on the surface, but they were wrong. Things had survived, but they had mutated beyond recognition. Horrible, twisted creatures prowled the landscape, preying on each other. The nearby Potomac River refused to sustain life, choked out by radiation, mud, and debris that still polluted the water even after hundreds of years. When the United States of America had committed suicide, it had been a nasty, bloody affair that had killed countless millions and scorched an entire continent with nuclear fire and radiation. Canada and Mexico had suffered collateral damage that had devastated both countries so badly they were still uninhabitable. Alaska, Hawaii, even parts of Europe and Africa, had not escaped the great nation’s death throes unscathed. Earth was mortally wounded in that war and the planet would struggle to recover for thousands of years.
The Aesir raid had set the clock back even further.
And Earth might not have a thousand years. It might not even have ten.
Like humanity, Earth was dying, and Becket wasn’t sure mankind’s death was a bad thing. The galaxy was a dangerous place. This was the second time mankind had faced extinction. They didn’t know how close they had come to extinction when the AIs rose and tried to overthrow their makers.
Looking at the surface was a reminder for him. It reminded him why he lived. The entire United States of America looked like this. Nobody who had lived here before would recognize North America anymore.
He watched the hell wolf slinking closer to him through one of several drones hovering nearby. They usually hunted in pairs, but life was quick and brutal. Solitary hell wolves were not unusual because there were no apex predators and everything still alive preyed upon each other. Hell wolves only vaguely resembled the canines Becket thought they had evolved from; four-legged with non-functional claws, coarse fur that covered loose, thick, leathery skin, and teeth and jaws that could pierce armor. Their bones were twisted and erupted from their skin, forming spurs and spikes that covered their bodies. Their strength was insane. An unarmed human would barely last seconds, but any unarmored human wouldn’t live more than a few seconds anyway, between the radiation, cold, and lethal microbes.
Becket stared up at the sky with enhanced eyes that let him see beyond the black snow and clouds. With his cybernetic ears, he could hear signals and sounds that would have been impossible if he were merely human. Like the creatures that hunted the desolation, Becket had changed.
Time held less meaning after hundreds of years of living alone in this hell.
Nearly alone. He had watched the war’s survivors as they reached the stars and spread out like roaches. They fled the dying Earth, hoping to find prosperity and hope among the stars.
The Governance no longer attempted to heal the planet. They only claimed they were because it was too convenient a tool to abandon. Instead, it was a place they could send the useful idiots to die. Earth, the great shining sanctuary of the Socialists Organizational Governance, where the greatest social architects came to live and learn while they repaired mankind’s homeworld. They were promised immortality for their service to the greater good, but most of them only received a thankless death because their usefulness had expired. The Social Organizational Governance Central Committee was a very select club, and they didn’t like outsiders. They claimed everyone was equal and valuable. They called for equity and unity, but their policies weren’t designed to bring that about. If people wanted the truth, they wouldn’t buy the lies.
The propaganda was for the masses that infested the stars, slaves of the political elite that had seized control and held it in their ever-tightening iron grip, grinding the hearts and souls out of humanity in pursuit of the “greater good,” as dictated by those few rulers who had survived the Vapaus Republic’s strike a century ago.
The dead and dying of Earth were useful idiots who would serve their purpose, though few had any value once they had given their loyalty to the Governance. They were the teeming masses, hidden away in underground hives where the average life span was less than forty years. The Central Committee didn’t care as long as their power and authority were not challenged.
“No news?” Becket thought to his internal assistant. The other wasn’t paying attention or something else was occupying its processing power.
“No,” Tzu said. “The SOG data nets hold nothing new. Colonel Mathison did not make it into the perimeter before it closed unless he was well hidden. I have found no trace of them.”
“And again, we are alone,” Becket said, his eyes dropping to examine the world around him. Shattered buildings covered in black snow crowded around him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Forever.”
“Maybe not forever, sir. They did not close the perimeter quickly enough. I think our days are numbered. I am still calculating that number.”
“The infection has reached this system?”
“If I am reading the data correctly, it is growing and will grow more quickly in the coming weeks. Then it will reach critical mass, and there will be no stopping it.”
“So, mankind is doomed.”
“Yes, sir. Based on data retrieved from SOG’s Internal Security, the infection will gain momentum, even without the presence of a primary essence. It is also very possible such an essence may exist within the perimeter.”
“Any way we can help the SOG deal with it?”
“No, sir.”
“So, we just wait to die?”
“I’m reviewing options, but you are more optimistic than I am.”
Becket snorted. He was not an optimist. Not these days. Not for a very long time, in fact.
“So, we just wait to die?” Becket repeated.
“We have been waiting since the United States of America died, sir.”
The hell wolf was coming closer. It had his scent, and Becket imagined it was starving. Everything on the surface lived in a constant state of starvation. It couldn’t possibly endanger him, but it would try. Life would always struggle to survive, and only the strong survived, while the weaker ones fell prey.
Humanity was falling prey to the predators from other dimensions. Mankind could not fight this threat; they didn’t understand it. Like the aliens that should teem throughout the galaxy, humanity was going to fall prey and be wiped out. One more species hunted to extinction by predators. The SOG reports, pulled from their systems by SCBIs, painted the picture. These hunters would find humans wherever they hid and, if the reports could be believed, nobody was safe. Perhaps it was already too late.
Bang!
The hell wolf collapsed. They were getting smarter and more vicious.
“Thank you, Wayne,” Becket said.
“My pleasure, Mister President,” Colonel Wayne Robillard said. “The other one is about to break out of the snowdrift any moment. Be ready.”
A nearby snow drift erupted, catching Becket by surprise. It had been so close, but his guards guaranteed it never had a chance. Blazer rounds ripped it apart before it could endanger him.
Becket was ordered to return to the safety of the bunker, and he had no choice but to obey.
* * * * *
Chapter Two: Interrogation
Gunnery Sergeant Wolf Mathison, USMC
The walls of the port conference room on Eagle were red to warn others. Mathison didn’t need any warning as he looked at the alien-made box. Lieutenant Colonel Hui had been very clear in her reports, and she had not held back with Feng present.
Mathison had been here several times, but now a feeling of dread hung over him. He had to know.
Nearby, Stathis, Skadi, Levin, Vili, and Niels stood ready, fully armed and armored. Feng and the rescued Guard officer Hui were nearby. She looked a lot better now as the Republic nanites rebuilt her body and repaired the damage. New skin covered her scalp and wounds. She hadn’t bothered with a wig since her hair was still regrowing. The hair that had survived was cut short to match the new growth, which made her look like a Marine recruit.
The room was empty except for one box set in a cage, bolted to the floor, surrounded by personal Inkeri generators. Just looking at it made him queasy. Was he committing suicide?
“You sure about this, Gunny?” Stathis asked for the millionth time.
“Ask me again, and we’re going to do unarmed combat practice together,” Mathison said. “I have a lot of anger and aggression I need to work out, and I gladly accept your offer as a rag doll.”
He couldn’t see Skadi’s, or anyone else’s, face well, though their visors were up. They were holding wire guns, blazers, and regular firearms. Mathison liked to think they were ready for anything, but what they really had to be ready for was for him to go, as Vili put it, hulu and start changing. Since they had captured it, they had kept a pair of Inkeri generators taped to it. Hui had reported it was silenced, but was it silenced? Was she mad? Was she still vulnerable?
Too many questions. Would the demon prince within the box talk?
But Hui had resisted and survived.
Now the prison was being monitored and was surrounded by Inkeri generators, each with a two-hundred-hour battery and wired into the ship’s power. Now it was silent. It was just a box.
Why was he stalling?
“On my mark,” Mathison said, staring at it. “Cut Eagle Inkeri and prison Inkeri. Three, two, one, mark.”
The lights on the boxes around the alien artifact blinked from green to red.
Mathison slowly exhaled, his finger hovering over the switch that could reactivate all the Inkeris. The Marines, ODTs, and Aesir all had personal Inkeris they were not turning off. In fact, everyone aboard the ship was wearing an Inkeri except Mathison.
“Your soul is marked,” a voice whispered in his mind. A chill ran down Mathison’s spine, and hatred and evil pressed against his mind. He wanted to draw a weapon he didn’t have and start shooting people, but through a strength of will Mathison held his paranoia in check.
“Shit,” Mathison said.
“Nothing?” Stathis asked. Mathison ignored him.
“You heard something.” Freya said. “I see brain activity in your auditory cortex, but nothing passed through the cybernetic augmentation that I could see.”
“Yeah,” Mathison said to Freya. “I heard it. My soul is marked, huh?”
“Nasaraf has marked it as his,” the voice said. “He knows you. I will not deprive him of his pleasure.”
“Like you could?” Mathison asked the demon.
There was a long pause before the demon prince whispered, “Your death will be unpleasant.”
“At least it speaks English,” Mathison said.
“You hear English,” the demon whispered, and Mathison sensed amusement there.
“It looks like you won’t be freed any time soon. I daresay we can keep you indefinitely.”
“You are mistaken. Patterns change. Time is fluid; you place too much trust in the laws of your reality, and those laws are weakening.”
“I understand you are a chronic liar.”
“Your perceptions are your truth. If your senses deceive you, then your truth is flawed.”
“Prove it,” Mathison said.
Demonic laughter filled his ears. “You are marked. Your fate is written. I have enjoyed watching your death.”
“How do I die?”
“Suddenly and without warning. Unexpected. Your soul will be cast loose and devoured.”
“What do you want?”
“That which is ours since the dawn of time. You are our slaves; you have forgotten this. You once worshipped us as you should, feeding us your souls and fighting our wars at our pleasure.”
“Why come to our worlds?”
“We own you. Your strength is our strength. We made you in our image. You were made in our image to feed us, to help us grow.”
“You don’t look like us.”
“You use your physical eyes which lack true vision. Your eyes merely show the reflection of light, not the true form.”
“So, what will you do when you conquer us?”
“Devour you at our pleasure. We are your future and your past.”
Mathison flicked the switch and Inkeris came on. He’d had enough and the thing was grating on his nerves.
“Shut up, asshole,” Mathison said and was answered by silence.
“You okay, Gunny?” Stathis asked.
“I’m not detecting any changes,” Freya said. “Shrek and Lilith are conducting a full diagnostics of my systems. Everything is green.”
