Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6) (32 page)

* * *

Teresa and Spartan waited inside the cover of the tree line and checked area of rocks one last time. It was the first clear area and section of sky they had seen in the seven hours since leaving the compound, and Spartan was getting desperate about sending a signal. The longer they waited, the more worried he became about receiving help from the fleet.

“Looks clear,” said Teresa through their intercoms.

Spartan nodded, and the rest of the ASOG unit moved forward and past the rocks to secure the woodland beyond. Spartan clanked forward in his Vanguard armour and took up position on the rocks themselves.
On his left leg was a sealed hatch, usually used to carry spare ammunition or fuel. He pressed the release button and withdrew the coded transmitter gear given to him by the Admiral prior to leaving. He’d already set the coding system but still checked his actual
message he was about to send one last time. It was short but detailed and gave Admiral Churchill all the information they had on the enemy disposition, capabilities and the timing of their attack. The transmitter device was about the size of a small rucksack and featured a built-in automated tracker and encoded laser unit. The power source would expend all of its energy to send
just a handful of
message
s,
but the signal strength would be very powerful, and strong enough even to burn through the thick haze and out into space
, providing he could locate a line of sight to the fleet
. He, Teresa and three more of their team, were on a batch of rocks near the river while they waited.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Teresa.

He looked at her in her battered and partially damaged PSD suit. He looked like an armoured gorilla next to her, yet he made no more noise than her, primarily down to the outstanding level of engineering and resources laboured on the armour.

“I know it’s a risk, but we need their help.”

“What if we are too late? Or we fail?” she added.

“Then a lot of good people down here and up there will die.”

He checked the setting one final time and hit the release button. It took a few seconds while the unit updated its positioning. Provided the fleet was still waiting at the assembly area, the signal would reach them. Though it was wideband, the accuracy was critical, as the system was line of sight. A slight trajectory change of a single degree would miss the ships by kilometres. Even with the increasing arc, it would still need the level of accuracy only possible with an automated tracking head.
He’d already be given clearance by
G
eneral Rivers to do so
, especially since seeing the video of the enemy reinforcements entering the camp. There were two main proposals concerning what the 0rb was. Most considered it was the exit point for some kind of manufacturing planet, whereas a smaller group were convinced it was a shielded entry point for an underground fortress or rallying point.

“There, it’s done,” he said calmly.

He was about to step down when the red failure light blinked three times.

“What?” he muttered in confusion.

“What is it?” asked Teresa.

Spartan bent down and pressed the button to open up his thickly armoured helm. The thick, musky air rushed inside, and he felt as though he was inhaling soup. He kept calm and examined the unit and its log screen.

“I don’t understand. There is no signal lock at the rendezvous location.”

Teresa bent down and examined it as well before looking up to Spartan.

“Why?”

Sergeant Lovett spotted the commotion and moved closer to hear the end of their conversation.

“Either they are unable to respond, or unwilling,” he suggested.

Spartan nodded in agreement.

“True. The signal lock has to be confirmed by a return transmission. I bet the Admiral has banned all outgoing signals in case they are detected down here. Come on, all we can do is assume it worked. Once we have the guns down, we can do a wide area scan and see if we can spot the ships.”

Teresa looked at him oddly.

“Spartan, you’re serious? We can’t detect vessels that far away. The gear can only pick up ships in orbit that are broadcasting friendly IFF signals.”

Spartan smiled at her.

“Let’s hope they are there when we need them, then.”

He nodded to Sergeant Kowalski who packed the unit back up it its rugged mounting and slung it on his back. He and the rest of them moved back from the rocks and into the jungle. They had already pushed ahead of the main force to carry out this task and quickly returned to their previous course.
Spartan and his small force of reinforcements mixed in with Teresa’s ASOG unit to form a motley vanguard unit to move ahead of the rest of the force. It hadn’t taken much persuasion to encourage General Rivers to organise a counterattack on the enemy compound. What had surprised Spartan was that the General had made them abandon their own base in its entirety. It reminded him of the old saying of’ burning your own ships’, and he just hoped they wouldn’t be forced to retreat back to a base that no longer existed.

“Still, if we lose here, what will a few wooden barriers do for us?”

The marines, soldiers, Vanguards and Jötnar moved in a loose line on a trail that ran parallel with the direction of the retreating Zealots. From where they were now, Spartan could just about make out the heat signature of three men, each still running to catch-up with the last of the four-legged machine that clambered its way back
. The mission was a simple one. They would identify the weakest part of the enemy base, and under the cover of an all out assault, Spartan and a select team would infiltrate the site and disable or destroy the tracking system and weapons. Once the guns were down, the fleet could move into position and deploy five companies of ground troops plus provide air cover.

“General, we have the enemy in sight. According to your maps, we’re two kilometres from the nearest mound in their compound.”

There was a short delay before the General responded.

“Good work, keep moving forward. Any sign of them bringing in reinforcements yet?”

“Negative, Sir, but I am picking up increasing power levels ahead. It must be the dome and its power sources.”

They continued onwards with the General and Captain Carlos bringing up the bulk of the forces in three columns, comprising of nearly a hundred men and women each. Only half were trained combatants, but today each of them carried whatever weapons they’d been able to recover from the bodies of the Zealots. It was one of the rare occasions where Alliance personnel could reclaim old Confederate weapons from those taken by the enemy.

* * *

Teresa reached the tree line before the rest of the ASOG team and kept her head down while scanning for enemy forces. Sergeant Lovett was with her, and Spartan brought up the rest of the mixed vanguard of units.

“What do you think?” asked Lovett.

Teresa continued checking the enemy position with multiple optical modes. The thermal imaging worked fine for the Zealots and the workers but picked up almost nothing from the machines.

“I don’t like it. They are still working on the dome, but look over there.” She pointed off to the right
where the dome was located.

Sergeant Lovett turned his head and spotted the light glinting off a large number of the multi-legged machines and at least a hundred Biomechs. Through the magnified optics on his PDS armour, he could see these Biomechs were substantially different to those like the
Jötnar
. They were more heavily armoured, and each group stayed close to one of the larger machines.

“Is it me, or the machines look like they are in charge here?” he suggested.

“Yeah, looks that way.”

Agent Johnson, the man from the Kerberos Underground that had joined their small unit, checked the base with his binoculars. Unlike the others, he wore a much lighter suit that was often used by paramilitary forces and police tactical units. The armour was lighter and rather than a fully fitted helm, he instead wore a low-profile ventilator and helmet.

“Yeah, I’ve seen these defensive deployments before on Kerberos. A few of the facilities we hit were guarded by Union troops. They don’t rotate the guards like we would. Instead, they move one at a time. Makes them damned difficult to attack.”

Spartan nodded while watching the enemy. Agent Johnson appeared to be correct, as he watched a single Zealot move away to be quickly replaced by a similarly equipped man. The Zealots seemed agitated about something, and that was when he spotted the surviving machine that had attacked their compound in the jungle.

“Crap, look!” he said.

The machine was stood next to a trio of other similar machines. They were moving their limbs as if discussing something important. That was when Spartan saw the form of a tall man wearing armour and a long flowing robe.

“That’s him!” said Teresa excitedly.

A group of Zealots, all carrying rifles, ran up to the robed figure, bowed and then ran off towards the large group of machines at the dome.

“That’s who?”

“Pontus,” she replied. “I think he might be their leader. If not, he’s pretty high up.”

Agent Johnson pointed off to the right-hand side of the identified man.

“Have you seen the machines over there? Look!”

The larger of the machines was herding a group of the prisoners into a loose line and moving them around the entrance to one of the small mountains.

“No, they must be onto us. Look, they are positioning prisoners around their key installations. Get yourselves ready, we need to get this operation moving.”

A short distance behind them was the rustling of leaves that marked the approach of General Rivers and the first of the three columns of troops from their own compound. Spartan checked the horizon and paid specific attention to the nearest of the small mountains surrounding the dome. He turned back and looked at their small group before connecting to the secure channel being used by the commanders of the Alliance ground forces.

“General, are you receiving me?” he asked.

“Affirmative, loud and clear,” came back the quick response.

Spartan nodded and looked at the enemy compound once more before continuing.

“The dome is being well protected by Biomechs, troops and those machines. It looks like they are preparing for something, maybe our attack. I suggest you start the assault against the most remote hill position. I will move my team into the ruins in front of the dome. When we have the chance, we’ll storm it and set out thermite charges.”

“Understood. I’m moving 1st Company into the tree line to protect our left flank, 2nd Company will initiate the attack, and 3rd Company will be held in reserve. Good luck.”

“You too, Sir.”

He looked to Teresa and the motley group of marines, technicians, Vanguards and
Khan, who always stood out compared to the re
s
t.

“This is it then, let’s get into position before the General lights the place up.”

He moved off with Khan, Teresa and Sergeant Lovett. The remainder followed along with the extra equipment plus several crates of charges. They reached the point where Teresa had set up the monitoring point in the rubble and ruins in front of the dome when the crackle of gunfire came from behind them. As one, the entire group threw themselves down and crawled behind any cover they could find. Spartan looked back and could see in the far distance the dark shapes of scores of marines and crew storming the hillside. They seemed to be covering ground very quickly. He almost smiled until the grinding sound of machines nearby indicated a large group of the multi-legged beasts and their Biomech and Zealots warriors were relocating to meet the attack.

“Do we attack?” asked Khan.

Spartan shook his head, lifting himself slightly to look at the orb. They were still a good distance away, and a number of ruined buildings blocked their path. More worrying was the sight of four of the machines still waiting outside and at least thirty gun toting Zealots.

Where are the Biomechs?

That was when he spotted the armoured creatures inching their way through the ruins and towards his hidden unit. Most of them must have gone to assist in the battle, but he could see five, possibly six of the great beasts. They moved differently to the ones he had seen before, and it was clear they were fitted with more equipment and armour. His gut instinct told him these were the next iteration of the Biomechs; stronger, better protected and presumably indoctrinated by the machines or the Zealots to fight. Since he had sent the signal from Terra Nova, every single connected Biomech to the AI Hub had lost it’s programming and reverted to its natural state. More than that, the signal had permanently destroyed the programmable section of their minds, making it impossible for them to be enslaved in such a way again. As he watched them, one stopped and stared directly at him.