The Golden Horde: The Revelations Cycle, #4

The Golden Horde

Book Four of the Revelations Cycle

By

Chris Kennedy

PUBLISHED BY: Chris Kennedy

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Copyright © 2017 Chris Kennedy

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All Rights Reserved

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For a suggested reading order guide to the Four Horsemen Universe, go to:

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For a listing of all the Four Horsemen books, go to:

https://chriskennedypublishing.com/the-four-horsemen/

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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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I would like to thank Patty, who took the time to critically read this work and make it better. I would also like to thank my mother, without whose steadfast belief in me, I would not be where I am today. Thank you. This book is dedicated to my wife and children, who sacrificed their time with me so I could write it.

I would also like to thank Jim Beall for his assistance with several aspects of the physics and biology in The Golden Horde. Any remaining errors are mine, in spite of his expert aid.

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Cover Design by Brenda Mihalko

Original Art by Ricky Ryan

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When the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, ‘Come.’ I looked, and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him. Authority was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by the wild beasts of the earth.

― Revelation 6:8

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Contents

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

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

About the Author

Excerpt from Book Five of The Revelations Cycle:

Excerpt from Book One of the Salvage Title Trilogy:

Excerpt from Book One of Chimera Company:

Excerpt from Book One of Murphy’s Lawless:

Chapter 1

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25 Miles East of Tashkent, Uzbekistan, Earth

The Tortantulas covered the hills at the edge of First Sergeant ‘Mun’ Enkh’s vision like a black blanket. If Mun looked hard enough, she could see the hillside moving, crawling with the giant spiders. She had never seen Tortantulas wait before, and it was disconcerting; normally, they threw themselves into combat recklessly and attacked at the first chance. In fact, they usually only took contracts that offered maximum carnage, which didn’t bode well for the waiting Humans.

They should have charged, but they hadn’t. Obviously, there was someone from another race in charge of them. Based on that observation alone, Mun suspected a Veetanho lurked somewhere in their command structure, holding their chains until the exact moment the time was right. Tactical experts, the Veetanho rarely lost; Mun knew the attack would commence at the worst possible time...for her.

The spiders continued to mill just outside the effective range of the Human mercenaries’ weapons, almost daring them to waste some of the ammunition she knew they would need once the attack began. With that many Tortantulas, she wasn’t sure there was enough ammo on the entire planet to stop their assault, much less the limited amount her battalion carried. It looked like someone had emptied an entire Tortantula world and sent its population here.

She scanned behind her; the last of the noncombatants had emerged from the escape tunnel and were running as fast as they could to where the shuttles waited two miles down the ravine. As noncombatants, they were more used to sitting on their butts in the rear echelons than to this sort of physical exertion. Running as fast as they could was barely more than a quick walk for many of them. Her job was to hold off the spiders until the shuttles were safely away, but she could see that was going to be like holding back the tide. This was the worst possible time for an attack.

The enemy commander must have realized it, too, for at some unseen signal, the Tortantulas moved forward as one, the blanket flowing forward smoothly. Mun shook her head inside her Combat Assault System, Personnel, or CASPer. Tortantulas never flowed forward smoothly. There was definitely a Veetanho nearby.

"Here they come!" Lieutenant Colonel James Laverno transmitted. Not really necessary, Mun thought; the spiders had been the sole focus of the battalion’s combined attention ever since they had formed up.

"Mark your targets! Mun added. Even though they look like a solid mass, they aren’t. Stay in your sectors and pick a target for every shot."

She activated the battalion’s targeting program, and symbology appeared on each of the trooper’s displays showing the area each was assigned to defend. When the spiders got closer, it would change to a defensive arc; right now, their targets were far enough away that the lines extended nearly straight out.

With a thought, she armed all of her suit’s weapons. The eight-foot-tall powered armor currently mounted a heavy magnetic accelerator cannon, or MAC, on her left arm, a 15mm autocannon on the right arm, and a missile pack on the right shoulder. The Tortantulas wore armor on most of their exposed surfaces so lasers were usually a waste of time.

Although it looked like a wall of spiders, there were places in the line where some of the spiders were slightly slower. Missiles arced out from across the battle line as the Humans tried to break the cohesion of the Tortantulas’ advance. She targeted three, and missiles leapt from her shoulder to detonate on the targeted aliens, killing them and wounding a number of other spiders in the area. The missiles also left a gap in the lines...until spiders from the following ranks sprinted forward to fill them.

Unlike many races who wouldn’t attack without their comrades on both sides of them to provide support, the Tortantulas didn’t care. The spiders in the lead, who suddenly found themselves without their supporting squad mates, only raced faster to get among the hated enemy who had killed them.

A lone Tortantula is killable, though, and the battalion’s MACs, autocannons, chain guns, and heavy machine guns opened up across the front to pick them off. Unfortunately, killing huge numbers of the 10-foot-wide Tortantulas rarely stopped their advances; no matter how many you killed, they just kept coming. At least the dead aliens were big enough their corpses provided obstacles that slowed the following ranks as they had to go around.

The firepower of the 170 CASPers was enormous, but they were spread out over a mile-wide front, with huge cliffs on either side of the ravine; each trooper had to cover over 30 feet of battlespace. Mun knew the ravine widened behind them; they would get even more spread out when they retreated.

Despite horrific casualties, the Tortantulas continued to flow forward. The Humans couldn’t kill them fast enough, and it was quickly apparent the Humans would need to give ground, or they would be overrun. Mun had once read a historical report that said the worst thing in all of warfare was to be on the receiving end of a cavalry charge. Whoever had written that had never seen Tortantulas. The ground shook like a minor earthquake, and they seemed all but unstoppable. Worse, they hadn’t even fired a round at the Humans yet. It was overwhelming to see them ignore the devastation they were receiving and keep coming, and Mun had experienced it before. For the newbies, it was suit-wetting time.

"Battalion, stand by to conduct a fighting withdrawal up the canyon, Lieutenant Colonel Laverno ordered. Good, Mun thought; the officer had seen it, too. She checked her rear screens; the noncombatants were at least a half mile away. Execute the fighting withdrawal."

Along with the rest of the battalion, she activated her jumpjets, and she flew into the air to land 50 feet back from her original position. At the height of her jump, she marked two new targets and launched missiles at them upon landing.

The icon for Private Esendai Enkh went red in her display. He was dead.

I’ve got hypervelocity rounds incoming! one of the sensor operators called. The spiders have riders!

Gichii. Of course the lead Tortantulas would have Flatar riders. The Humans might have stopped the advance otherwise. Aliens that looked like foot-long chipmunks, the Flatar used hypervelocity pistols that fired a really small projectile at an incredible velocity. The bullet didn’t have much mass, but the kinetic energy it carried from the velocity was enormous. The dead private’s body, and the nearly half-ton suit he wore, were knocked backward by the impact.

"Continue moving, Mun ordered. Even when you aren’t withdrawing, keep moving to make yourselves harder targets."

The battalion continued to withdraw, and more troopers were hit. When one of the CASPers went down, the ones on either side shifted to fill in the gap, with the rest of the battalion shifting slightly to cover the resulting gaps.

"Damn it, Berke, Sergeant Stan Jones, one of the squad leaders, radioed, get back in formation!"

Mun shifted her heads-up display to show the whole battlefront while she continued to pick off Tortantulas, and she immediately saw the problem. Private Berkelun Enkh was out of place. Way out of place. She had jumped to the right, probably to avoid terrain, but had gone almost all the way over to the next CASPer in line, leaving a huge gap in the line. Since she was still alive, the trooper to her left, her squad leader, Sergeant Jones, hadn’t moved over to fill in the gap.

The spiders had seen it, though, and were rushing to take advantage of it.

Mun activated her jets and jumped toward the opening as Sergeant Jones and Private Enkh both jumped toward each other to fill in the gap. Unfortunately, both soldiers chose the same landing spot and Private Enkh landed on top of Sergeant Jones half a second after he had touched down. Both soldiers went down in a tangle of metal.

Mun jumped again, trying to position herself to cover them, but the two soldiers were overrun by the Tortantulas, and both suits showed red within half a heartbeat. She touched down in the center of the gap and blasted back into the air, firing the last of her missiles to break up the mass of spiders skittering into the gap. If she didn’t slow their advance, the spiders would be in a position to flank the rest of the battalion.

Her missiles were effective, blowing huge holes in the ranks of the spiders, but the rest kept coming and were nearly upon her. Mun bounced back from the throng, but could see she was now the focus of all the nearby Flatar. She hit her right jet to throw off their aim, but a round hit her left boot, destroying its jumpjet. Unable to control her descent, she hit nearly horizontally, crashing onto her left side and rolling to a stop. A variety of yellow and red lights appeared in front of her blurred vision.

Mun shook her head to clear her vision. One of the Tortantulas was already on top of her, its Flatar rider aiming his pistol down at her. The last thing she saw was her tactical display. The spiders had broken through the gap in the line. While some of them fired down the Human line in enfilade, others raced off to chase down the fleeing noncombatants. She had a second to realize they had failed, again.

Then the Flatar fired, killing Mun instantly.

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The Golden Horde Headquarters, 20 Miles East of Tashkent, Uzbekistan, Earth

Sansar Enkh removed her helmet, and her long, straight black hair fell into her almond-shaped eyes. She pushed it back to reveal her broad face with a sigh. The Horde had failed to stop the assault. Again. She stood up and stretched.

Sorry, Colonel Enkh, the computer programmer responsible for the simulation said. He stood up out of respect. Although average height for a Mongol at five and a half feet, he towered over his commanding officer, who was an inch under five feet. I thought they were going to make it that time, ma’am, and one of the shuttles did make it off. I mean, they were doing a great job holding off the Tortantulas, right up until the end when it all went to...

When it all went to shit, Sansar replied. Yes, they did look better on this run, but ultimately, it didn’t make any difference. The Horde all died, as did two shuttle loads of people and material. I have to tell you, though, the representation was exactly what I was trying to portray; your simulation was spot-on. I couldn’t have asked for any better.

Thank you, ma’am, the programmer answered, a glow suffusing his cheeks.

While Sansar smiled at him, she shuddered inside. Yes, the simulation had looked exactly like what she had intended...it was exactly the same as she had dreamed it the last three nights. It was all she could think about as she awoke in a cold sweat, the sheets torn from the bed as she visualized herself jumping, always jumping, trying to escape the black tidal wave coming for her Horde. She couldn’t get the image from her head—no matter what she did, she couldn’t get away...and no matter what the Horde did in the simulation, they couldn’t stop the waves of spiders from rolling over the people she was sworn to protect.

But she hadn’t participated in the simulation. Would her presence have turned back the Tortantulas? Would one of her actions be what it took to win the battle? She sighed. She didn’t see any way the Horde could have fought better; the Horde’s leaders had performed flawlessly. And still the civilians in two of the shuttles had died.

They had failed...again.

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25 Miles East of Tashkent, Uzbekistan, Earth

The simulation ended, and Mun’s suit was released from the stasis lock that had held her prisoner after her death at the hands of the Flatar hypervelocity pistol. Although she had been able to watch the rest of the defense from her suit, she hadn’t been able to talk to anyone. There were a couple of opportunities where the battalion could have done things differently; however, once the Tortantulas broke through the line, for all intents and purposes, the defense was over. Able to pour raking fire down the Humans’ line, the Tortantulas had finally pulled out the weapons they had been carrying—missile launchers—and wiped out a large number of the Horde’s forces at close range.

After that, the rout had been on.

"Let’s go, everyone, Lieutenant Colonel Laverno transmitted. Battalion debrief in 15 at the shuttle launch pad."

Mun decided to walk a bit of the distance, rather than jump there, in order to get some of the bruises and stiffness out of her body from her crash. It had been a pretty serious one; she hadn’t hit that hard in a long time. Although the defensive battle had been a simulation, the crash had been all too real; her suit would need some serious maintenance before it was ready to operate again.

Her operational picture still worked, though, and she saw two of the battalion’s suits weren’t headed toward the debrief. Sergeant Jones and Private Berkelun Enkh. She tried to call them, but neither answered.

"I’m going back to check on Sergeant Jones and Private Enkh, Mun called, turning back around. I can’t reach them on the radio. Their suits may have sustained serious damage in their collision."

Mun jumped to where the datalink showed their suits, and she landed next to them. Both suits were open and unoccupied. Shaking her head, she opened her canopy. With it open, she could hear yelling from the north, but she couldn’t see anything due to a small hillock.

It’s all your fault, a male voice yelled, followed by a skin-to-skin slapping sound. Mun jumped down and raced around the intervening terrain. We could have won that time, the voice continued. Another slap. That is, we could have won, if it weren’t for you, you worthless piece of shit. Another slap.

Mun rounded the hillock to find Sergeant Jones standing over the private. Jones, an American, was over six feet tall and easily twice the mass of the Mongol girl. He had a handful of Private Enkh’s uniform front and held her off the ground while he slapped her with his other hand. The private appeared unresponsive; her head lolled off to one side.

Put her down, Mun ordered. "Put her down, now!"

Jones either ignored her, or he was too far gone into his rage. "Do you hear me, bitch? he yelled, lifting the private’s face up next to his. I’m talking to you!"

Last chance, Jones, Mun shouted. "Put her down or you’ll have me to deal with."

In a second, First Sergeant, Jones replied without looking. "I’m not done talking to her yet."

Mun took three steps and dove at the sergeant, intending to tackle him, but the burly man heard her coming. He turned slightly, still holding the private in his left hand, and backhanded Mun, knocking her to the ground. She rolled to a stop, trying to clear her head of the cobwebs.

She rose slowly to her feet and looked up at the soldier who stood almost a foot taller. Is this how you want it? She asked, still trying to blink away some of the stars.

You and me together? Sure, First Sergeant, I’d love to have a little piece of your ass while there’s no one here to witness it. After I’m done, I think I’ll also show you what a real man’s like. He chuckled. Yeah, he said, this is going to be fun. He dropped the private, who collapsed in a heap. Whatcha got for me, First Sergeant? he asked with a sneer.

She approached him slowly, looking for an opening. Not only was he a lot taller, he also outreached her by a long way, too. He approached her slowly, too, and she launched herself toward him as he took a step, trying to catch him off balance so she could kick him in the groin. He had obviously expected that, though; he turned to protect himself and took the kick in the thigh. Jones grabbed her ankle in one hand and threw it up and back, causing her to somersault in the air to land on her hands and knees.

It hurt, but the pain helped clear her head from the earlier slap.

Typical girl, he said with a laugh. Always going for the man’s balls.

That was just to get your attention, Mun said, standing up, her fists clenched. If you want another round, I’m still here.

Sure thing, First Sergeant, he said. He approached slowly, fists up and ready.

Mun charged the larger man, yelling a primal scream.

Jones’s hands dropped, ready to swat her away again, but she came to a halt a step away. As he reached down to grab her, she threw the handful of sand in her right hand into his face. As he reared back, she stepped forward and kicked him in the shin. The steel-toed boot cracked the bone, and Jones staggered to the side, trying to clear the sand from his eyes.

Mun raced around to his back, jumped up, and threw an arm around his throat. Jones brought his chin down to protect it, but she was already locked in.

Jones reached back and grabbed her uniform sleeve, then bent over suddenly while pulling her over and down. Mun slammed into the ground, losing some of her breath as she hit.

He leaned forward to look her in the eye. Nice try, he said with a chuckle.

Mun’s hand shot up, her first two fingers in a V, and she drove her fingers into the man’s eyes as hard as she could, fear and desperation giving her added strength. Jones reared back, roaring in pain. He slammed the heel of his boot down, trying to stomp her head, but Mun was already moving, rolling to the side and to her feet. She took two steps and swept Jones’ good leg out from under him with a hard kick.

Jones fell to the ground and tried to roll toward her to grab her, but she was on her feet, and she launched a snap-kick that terminated on Jones’ chin. The man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell backward, unconscious.

You okay, First Sergeant? Corporal Khunbish Enkh asked, running up. Several other troopers were behind him. What happened?

Take Jones to the stockade, Mun replied. She flipped the cover off her holster, pulled out her pistol, and handed it to the corporal. You may need this, she added; I suspect he’s going to be pretty pissed. The rest of you, give him a hand and look after Private Berkelun.

She strode back to her CASPer with a grim look on her face and boarded it, able to get the canopy closed before the shaking fit began.

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The Golden Horde Headquarters, 20 Miles East of Tashkent, Uzbekistan, Earth

What do you have to say for yourself? Sansar Enkh asked. The mercenary commander was seated at a table at the front of the room, flanked by Lieutenant Colonel James Laverno and First Sergeant Muunokhoi Enkh.

Sergeant Jones stood five paces in front of the table at a loose position of attention, flanked by two other soldiers wearing both arms and personal armor. Fifty members of the battalion sat in chairs behind him.

What do you mean, Colonel? Jones said with a snarl. I didn’t do anything wrong. She deserved it.

Have you no compassion for your fellow soldier? Sansar asked.

Passion? Jones asked. Yeah. I got plenty of passion. My passion is being successful and staying alive, something Private Enkh was endangering with her complete lack of competence. I was showing her how important it was to have that same level of passion.

"She said compassion, and what you did was totally out of line, Mun replied. You beat her until she was senseless, and then you continued to slap her."

Well, she didn’t meet the standards, Jones said with a shrug, and people who can’t meet them are a danger in combat. I was just showing her the importance of meeting standards.

Sansar shook her head. The way you were doing it goes against everything we stand for.

Jones shrugged. Someone had to help her get her shit together. He looked around the audience behind him for support. Right? It obviously wasn’t happening on its own, so I figured something a little more intensive was called for.

You’re fired, Sansar stated.

Fired? Seriously? For hitting a private who couldn’t do her job? You’d get rid of someone who knows which end of the laser rifle the beam comes out of, and keep the incompetent private who’s just as likely to throw the pin instead of the grenade?

You were in a leadership position, Lieutenant Colonel Laverno noted, speaking for the first time. It was your job to train her, not physically abuse her.

"I was training her. I guarantee she’ll think about it before she breaks formation the next time."

You won’t be around to see it, Sansar said. As I told you, you are fired. We will take you into town and give you your final paycheck, but you are no longer welcome here.

What? You’re serious?

Yes.

Just like that? When there’s a mission on the horizon? You’re going to screw yourself. You’ll never find a replacement who’s as good as me in the time you have remaining. What do you think you’re proving with this?

As for the mission, we will find someone, Sansar replied. It is in the cards. I thought it was you, but I was wrong. You were, however, right about one thing. Jones smiled at the perceived compliment. She continued, Even mercs have to have standards, and you don’t meet ours. Mun, get this piece of shit out of here.

I’d be happy to, ma’am.

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Chapter 2

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Commander’s Conference, Uninhabited System

General Peepo, Rear Admiral Grakapoonga said, looking up from his slate. I was just informed that Nigel Shirazi escaped the trap you set for him on Planet Moorhouse.

The general lifted her goggles to stare at the Bukulu admiral, and his eyestalks fluttered nervously under her glare. After a moment, Peepo’s gaze shifted to the large wolf-like creature next to him. Brigadier General Sharith, do you have any additional details on how this is possible? Like how, for example, he wasn’t killed when I allocated vastly superior forces to the task, both in numbers and in capabilities?

The reports do not give any additional details at this time, the Besquith general said. He looked at the table, unable to meet her stare. The only other information I have is that the Shirazi boy absconded with the entire year’s worth of production from the red diamond mine on the planet. When our ship arrived to pick up our payment, the Caroon in charge of the mine had nothing to turn over to us. Apparently, the Shirazi boy said it was for ‘reparations’ for not telling him about our presence on the planet.

What are we going to do about that?

"There does not appear to be much we can do, General Sharith replied. There was a clause in Asbaran Solutions’ contract that allowed for this. ‘Hiring party will advise mercenary force commander of any hostile activity noted, or will be held liable for any losses which ensue.’ They had insisted on the clause, and we never figured it would be a problem; they weren’t supposed to survive, after all."

And how much did this ‘boy’ get away with? the general asked. Her voice had dropped to nearly a whisper, a sure sign of her anger.

At least several hundred million credits’ worth. General Sharith bowed his head in submission. When the general didn’t say anything, he continued, Under additional questioning, the Caroon mine manager admitted that it might be more than that, and it was possible it may have been as high as half a billion credits. Maybe a little more.

General Peepo turned her gaze to the senior MinSha general, Lieutenant General Chinayl, who held up to her scrutiny for several seconds before shifting his compound eyes away from her. Is this true? the general asked. "How did you allow this to happen? While I am not surprised at the incompetence of the Besquith forces, your forces were supposed to provide the leadership required to make sure everything went according to plan. If the Humans were not destroyed, it is possible they also left with evidence that the Besquith used banshee bombs to take over the original Asbaran Solutions’ base there. What is your plan for countering this claim when they bring it up with the Mercenary Guild, as I am sure they will?"

The MinSha general stood up a little straighter. I am happy to report that, although the Humans did survive and get away with the red diamonds, the second half of your plan was accomplished successfully. We used the uranium smuggled off the Humans’ home world to make a nuclear bomb, which was detonated at the mine site. The evidence will confirm the fact that the Humans felt so betrayed by the Caroons that they destroyed them with a nuclear weapon in their anger. As I understand it, nearly one thousand innocent miners were killed in the attack, along with their families. There were some rather graphic photos taken of the remains of several Caroon younglings which will be distributed to the GalNet when the time is right.

Good, the general said, gazing at the screen that showed the ship being built at the shipyard nearby. We may still be able to salvage the plan, after all, despite your incompetence. Now, let us talk about those damned Winged Hussars...

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Downtown Tashkent, Uzbekistan, Earth

Sansar walked into her house and set down her pack, dreading what she knew was coming—another fight with her mother, who had stopped taking her medications because she said it was, her time. Sansar squared her shoulders. Putting it off wouldn’t make it any better. She walked to the back room and knocked on the door. She thought she heard a muted, Come in, so she did.

About time you came to see the elderly, her mother scolded, her voice thin and reedy. It was amazing how quickly she had gone downhill.

Mother, you know what it’s like to run a Four Horsemen merc unit. You did it for over fifty years.

"Yes I did, and don’t think I didn’t go see my mother all the time while I was in charge. The elderly have experience the young don’t even begin to comprehend. You would be wise to consult me more often."

Mother, war has changed since you retired. It is more technical now; I doubt you’d understand.

War is always changing. Commanders who continue to fight the same way they did in their last battle are destined for defeat. People, though...people remain constant. The same needs and desires that drove us to the stars continue to drive us now.

We went to the stars because the aliens showed up and brought us into the Union. Humankind had pretty much given up on the stars until the aliens made it easy for us.

Were you there at the time? her mother asked, pale blue eyes looking piercingly at her. Sansar shook her head. I didn’t think so; therefore, you don’t know.

I know what I read about it.

"Bah. Scholars write history books, and they are notorious for writing them