Ghost Soldiers (9 page)

“Took your time,” said Spartan.

Khan grumbled and nodded towards Gun. The group was relatively small, but it now represented all the active units in the IAB, including two Thegns who were part of Five-Seven’s crew.

“Spartan, it’s time,” said Gun.

Spartan nodded, but so little that only those nearest would have even spotted the movement. Gun took in a breath and began speaking, just as the centre holographic projector displayed videostreams from multiple news networks.

“Our last mission on Spascia is getting a lot of attention on the networks. There are videostreams of the assault, and a lot of people want to know what these machines are, and where they came from.”

Spartan then smiled.

“When High Command put out a statement that they were virtual presence soldiers, the response was incredible. Interest in military careers has increased fifteen percent, with the majority of those requesting information on training and posting out here.”

He looked to Gun.

“The IAB is making a real difference, and we are at the front-line. A lot of people doubted we could do this, and week by week we’re proving them wrong.”

He then looked out to the officers.

“One day, the entire Alliance military could look like what we have built out here. Our soldiers will operate from inside heavily protected command and control ships, and we will travel to the warzones with speed and overwhelming force.”

Gun shifted uncomfortably and nodded before speaking.

“Spartan is correct, but whether that happens is out of our hands. For now, we are the first response against threats internal and external. Spascia has proven once and for all that only an IAB company can be at a target in hours or days, instead of weeks or months.”

He took in another quick breath.

“We can hit a target before a conventional battlegroup can even be assembled.”

A murmur of self-congratulation spread among the small group, but Gun lifted his hand to silence them.

“With success comes responsibility, and because of what we have achieved, we are drawing a lot of attention. That is why we have been given a new mission, one perfectly suited to our unique skills. A ship is missing, and we are being sent to investigate.”

Captain Delatorre, the sole Alliance Navy senior officer present, and Captain of IAS Euryale lifted his hand.

“Commander Gun, as you know, our ships are all unserviceable. We cannot be expected to operate another mission until after repairs and new trials. There are plenty of other vessels in the fleet ready for a mission like this.”

He looked around, noting there were no officers from the other two ships present.

“The IAB is nowhere near capacity. Most of our units unformed, and of our three ships, one is incomplete; the other damaged from the fighting at Karnak.”

“And Euryale, she is fully operational, is she not?” Gun asked.

The Captain shook his head.

“I need to replace a third of the crew. We need replenishment and new kit. I think you’ll find the Marine contingent will need assistance as well. Half of their Grunts are gone, and two of my dropships need replacing.”

Gun looked to Spartan who said just a few words. Gun muttered and then looked back to the Captain.

“Liaise with Five-Seven and get her ready. He has additional Thegn crew, each already trained with the Auxiliary. Load as much gear as you have time for. I don’t care how ready we are…in sixty minutes IAS Euryale will be leaving Taxxu.”

The Captain rose to his feet to protest. Gun signalled for him to stay where he was.

“You’ve told me your concerns, and they are noted. I have already sent orders to our replenishment teams to get started.”

The man looked to Spartan, but he found nothing but the harsh glance from the commander of the 1st Battalion. Captain Delatorre was clearly unimpressed by his treatment and began to sit back down. Spartan felt obligated to say something.

“Captain. We need your skills and experience, as much as we need the skills of our crews and marines. If you’ll give us a moment, you will understand why.”

The Captain nodded and waited in silence, along with the men and women of 1st Combat Company. Gun shuffled his feet impatiently and signalled to one of the technicians. The imagery changed to show the T’Karan System.

“Now, to the mission. Three hours ago we lost contact with ANS Orion, almost forty astronomical units from T’Karan.”

A murmur of surprise rippled through the men and women. The distance was nothing in terms of long-distance space travel, but it was unusual for an unescorted patrol. The model changed to show the Alliance warship.

“ANS Orion is one of the first Liberty class destroyers. She’s reliable, and so is her captain. They have seen action over the last twelve months and were fresh out of refit.”

Spartan looked at the shape, and memories quickly returned of the battle at the Black Rift. He’d seen the shapes of Alliance ships, the last of the fleet that were making a desperate assault on the enemy. The Liberty ships were hardy things, yet he’d seen them crumple to the gunfire of true ships-of-the-line, and it had been far from pretty.

“They were sent on a routine patrol when an unidentified object was detected. The distance was substantial and Orion already several days out when they got the call.”

Gun licked his upper lip before continuing.

“What they found was this.”

The image changed again; this time replaced by the vast derelict. It rotated slowly so that the vessel could be seen from all directions. Some of the marines strained to get a closer view of the components.

“Orion moved in nearer, and while investigating the derelict, they simply vanished without a trace. We’ve had no contact since, and our long-range scans are picking up nothing more than scattered debris.”

He paused, letting that sink in.

“I know what you’re all thinking. It was probably a collision or an accident, and you might be right. Apart from this.”

He nodded to Spartan who then walked up to the model. As he moved his hands, the object twisted about and then stopped. A flashing blue line surrounded one section on the left part of the vessel.

“The ship is modular, and this particular section is a patrol ship.”

He looked at his small audience.

“We’ve checked with the Helions and the T’Kari, and got nothing. But the Klithi are another story. They will tell us little, other than that this one vessel is in their ship registry.”

Spartan glanced to Gun who gave him the nod.

“It is a patrol ship from the Trusska.”

There was no response for a moment.

“Yes, you heard me, the Trusska. The mythical race that apparently committed suicide centuries ago.”

He turned around and pointed at the vessel.

“At least one part of that derelict is of Trusskan origin. And all the Klithi would tell us was to keep well away. Their last message said Trusskan ships bring only death. They are moving their primary fleet to protect their Spacebridge to Helios. They suggest we do the same, and prepare for a major offensive! No wonder they're scared.”

That brought a smile to both Gun and Khan’s faces. The imagery deactivated, and Gun took over.

“In any case, we’ve been given orders to investigate the location from a safe distance. Once there, we will perform a full tactical scan and then send in boarding teams. If there is a risk to T'Karan, or Alliance territory, we have full authority to conduct a search and destroy mission. All options are at our disposal, including destruction from deep space. If it is as serious as the Klithi suggest, then downfall protocols will come into effect.”

Spartan looked surprised.

"Downfall? As in crew and equipment expendable?"

Gun nodded.

"Exactly, under those circumstances, any price must be paid to stop it."

Lieutenant Armstrong lifted his hand, but he looked more amused that worried.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” said Gun.

“Downfall, on the word of aliens."

He shook his head and clearly had little time for the Klithi.

"What are we expecting to find, Sir?”

Gun’s face tightened a little.

“ANS Orion was lost with all hands, and we have a massive vessel moving into Alliance territory. The Klithi have never misled us before, and they are terrified of this thing. Our mission is simple; to get there weeks before a conventional fleet, and to find out what happened well before it can be a major threat to our colonies.”

Spartan nodded twice as he listened.

“And if we find hostiles, what does High Command sanction?”

Now Gun seemed to positively beam at the question.

“If we deem it a threat, we have full authorisation to destroy whatever we find out there.”

One event occurred in the Great Biomech War that has never been fully explained. A ship vanished in the T'Karan System and reappeared many months later in the Sol sector, near the planet Mars. The journey was vast, and in theory, only possible via the use of the Interstellar Network of Spacebridges. Survey ships would spend years looking for answers, but there are many that say the ship never really vanished. An even smaller group suggest those that reappeared in the Sol System might simply have been copies or clones of the original captives, a hypothesis generally laughed at by the scientific community. The alternative is that there is a Spacebridge out there, perhaps even an additional network that could provide the answers.

Evolution of the Biomechs

Admiral Jarvis Naval Station, T’Karan System

IAS Euryale moved in a wide elliptical orbit around the vast space station. She was not the only one doing this, but no sooner had she arrived and the other vessels busily altered their courses. Of all the ships in T’Karan, IAS Euryale was now the furthest from the station. Her shape stood out against every other vessel, not due to her size or ungainly appearance, but because of the great double ring at her stern. This odd arrangement made her appear like no other. Neither the humans nor the myriad of races in the many worlds connected to the Helios Nexus used such technology. White flashes burned continually from her main drive as she moved onto her orbital course.

Created over a decade ago, the Admiral Jarvis Naval Station was massive, and one that had no equal in the known galaxy. It was a thriving places, a centre for commerce, shipbuilding, and engineering, and every year it grew. What had started as a forward base of operations for a military offensive had now turned into something quite different. The station included a vast shipyard, as well as a thriving engineering station and Marine Corps barracks and was the stopover point for every military fleet or convoy that moved from Alpha Centauri to the Orion Nebula. The station was also the home of the T’Karan Fleet, one of the most heavily armed Heavy Strike Groups in the Alliance.

“She’s different every time I see her.”

Dozens of ships waited in orbit, with one in particular standing out more than the rest. As well as the large number of military ships, there were also small groups of civilian vessels, each bearing the marking of the newly minted Alliance Navy Auxiliary. For most of the ships the change in name made little difference, but Spartan could see each carried at least a single retrofitted defence turret. One of the requirements, apart from an ANA sanctioned crew, was they all had to be armed, even if just by a single turret.

“ANS Warlord,” Spartan said under his breath, “Flagship of the T’Karan Strike Group.”

The ship was unique, something hastily improvised in the war. Back then, ships were manufactured and hurled out into battle, often incomplete. ANS Warlord had been an attempt to consolidate the resources of two Conqueror class battlecruisers into one vessel. The hulls had been fused together during the initial production, and then extra layers of spaced armour installed throughout. It was an ungainly monster, yet somehow it had survived multiple engagements and been present at the Black Rift. Khan leaned in closer.

“He will be here, you know that?”

Spartan smiled, but his expression was grim.

“I know. Anderson has enough to do without reminiscing about the old days. Another time, maybe.”

Khan looked at his friend for a little longer and then turned his attention back to the mainscreen. Unlike the physical windows on the left and right-hand sides of the bridge, this part could show them any view they wished. One half pointed at the station, while a smaller section darted about, investigating every vessel in the area. There were many news ships, the majority variants of the Liberty design. A single Helion missile cruiser was connected to a long docking platform, and drones moved about its hull. Khan pointed to another object off to the right.

“And that one is Harbinger, the highest kill record in the fleet for any Crusader class. She was almost destroyed in a ground attack run in the war. Impressive ship.”

Spartan swallowed uncomfortably. He knew a lot of the men and women aboard that ship, and many of them had been lost in that battle. Even so, seeing one of the ships from the war brought back images of the final space battles. Spartan had witnessed the destruction of numerous Alliance ships; he’d even given orders to fire on many of them.

“Impressive crew.”

Captain Delatorre looked at the ship and shook his head.

“She’s still running railguns. I thought all the Crusader class now run particle beams.”

Spartan looked in the direction of the ship.

“All of the surviving first ships retained their armament. Many were upgraded, but none survived the war. Any remaining with railguns were moved to the home fleets. They were supposed to be the second-line of defence.”

He looked back to the Captain.

“That’s why so many were available for combat at the end of the war; archaic perhaps, but their crews were experienced, and they fought damned hard. When the call came, they joined up with Liberty class escorts and fought against the Biomechs.”

Five-Seven twisted his head towards them both.

“Contact from the Naval Station. Admiral Churchill sends his regards.”

Khan and Spartan looked to each other, and Khan’s eyebrows rose in a disconcerting fashion.

“Churchill? I thought Anderson was stationed there?” Khan asked.

Spartan lifted his shoulders.

“Obviously not. Isn’t Churchill commanding the T’Karan Fleet now?”

Both of them looked at the view of the ships. At first it had seemed much the way it normally was, but then the list continued to grow. Spartan counted them off before turning to Khan and Captain Delatorre. The officer nodded towards ANS Warlord.”

“According to the scans, this is the largest gathering of ships of the line since the Battle of the Black Rift.”

He licked his lips as he listed them.

“One heavy battleship, four Conqueror battlecruisers, fifteen Crusader heavy cruisers, and twenty Liberty destroyers.”

He turned to Spartan.

“Forty ships is quite a gathering. And that doesn’t include the thirty plus Auxiliary ships waiting at Sector Four.”

Khan laughed.

“Well, you’ve seen what’s happening on the Byotai border. If you ask me, that’s a war fleet destined to go to the border.”

Five-Seven spoke again.

“Admiral Churchill has put four Liberty class missile destroyers and a single Liberty class troop transport at our disposal, should you need them. He has also requested a company from the 24th Regiment, and they will arrive within the day.”

Spartan grinned at the mention of the famous unit.

“The Red Watch, huh?”

Spartan rubbed his chin and glanced to Five-Seven.

“Send our thanks, and pass on our mission details. Let’s make sure the Admiral is kept in the loop.”

He looked away and then shook his head.

“Scratch that, get him on the videostream. I want to speak with him.”

Five-Seven looked away, and in a few more seconds the face of the Admiral appeared. A veteran of both wars, much like Khan and Spartan, he had seen just as much combat, perhaps even more.

“Major Spartan, I never thought I’d see you back in this sector again.”

“You’re not alone, Admiral. What’s happening out here? I thought Anderson still controlled this sector?”

The Admiral looked a little suspicious as he considered his words.

“You’ve seen the news. There’s trouble brewing, so Admiral Anderson is at a conference at Helios Prime. He will be back soon, though. AJNS is his home now, and quite a home it is."

Spartan looked at the station on the mainscreen and nodded.

"You could say that. This place has gone from an outpost to something inconceivable. The ships, though, this is not routine, is it? I know some of them, and a few are not usually sent this far from home."

Again the Admiral considered his words. Spartan was back in the military, but the IAB was something odd. Though part of the same overall structure, they had independence, and in many ways had more in common with a private security force or a foreign legion. He was still coming to terms with the new unit, but Spartan was entitled to know what was happening up to a certain level, and he had no doubts as to Spartan's loyalty or abilities.

"You're right. This is the home fleet from Terra Nova. They're here for manoeuvres with the T’Karan fleet based at this station. We’re going to be joined by the Helions and with some contingents from the Byotai.”

Spartan did his best not to laugh.

“Manoeuvres? They put you in charge of this?”

A light flashed on the mainscreen, and the cameras altered their view to show the Spacebridge that led back to Prometheus. Three ships came through, and were then followed by a long column of civilian transports.

“That’s a lot of ships,” said Khan.

Admiral Churchill nodded.

“Well, you know how it goes. Anyway, this is all part of the long-term strategy. You've seen the reports. With Makos on Karnak, nothing will end quickly. The Byotai are holding their own, and the Anicinàbe are not fully committed yet. If this turns to a full shooting war, it could last months, maybe years."

Spartan sighed.

"Shooting war? Trust me, Admiral. It's way past that."

Admiral Churchill nodded in agreement.

"This derelict of yours is more pressing at the moment. I had been assembling a team, but we’re weeks away from being able to assist. Is it true, can you be there in less than half a day?”

“Six hours.”

He tried to hide it, but the pride in Spartan’s voice was easy to spot. Admiral Churchill shook his head in amazement.

“You’ve done incredible things at Taxxu. Your team has moved us along a generation, maybe more with this tech.”

He leaned in closer to the camera.

“Just do me a favour, Spartan. Don’t activate your engine anywhere near the station. I don’t think your reputation could come back after that!”

Khan began to laugh, but Spartan seemed less than amused.

“Understood, Admiral. We’ll be in touch within the day with news. Keep everything else out of the area until then.”

The Admiral disconnected, and as before, the Alliance ship was alone. Captain Delatorre went back to his seat and turned to Five-Seven.

“Move us into the designated launch position. It’s time.”

Five-Seven acknowledged and turned back to his computer systems fitted around his chair. The ship was already thousands of kilometres from the station, but neither Spartan, nor the Navy officers on the base were taking chances. The technology used in IAS Euryale was experimental, and somewhat volatile. The last thing any of them would want was a tear in space-time next to the largest naval facility in the Alliance. The Admiral may have been joking, but there was some truth with regards to the engines.

“We will be at the launch coordinates in seventy seconds.”

Spartan turned his attention to the station for one last time, soaking in the details. Whenever he left Taxxu, he always came across such reminders of his past, even the name, the illustrious Admiral Jarvis, and hero of the human civil war more than two decades ago. He’d known her, and in the years since the Uprising, she had become something of a legendary character in the Alliance Navy. They continued moving to the launch location, using nothing more than their conventional engines. Great pulses of white marked the burning of fuel as they travelled at the same speed as most other ships.

“Look, they are watching us,” said Captain Delatorre.

Though formally in command, the Captain had left the basic operations of the ship to Five-Seven and his efficient crew of Thegns. He pointed to the left and then a few degrees away to another group. Spartan spotted the small shapes just after Khan. There were two groups of fighters, both made up of three spacecraft, and a fourth one much larger than the others.

“Is that what I think it is?” Spartan asked.

Khan strained to look at it, but the Captain seemed comfortable with what he could see.