Star Crusades Nexus: Book 05 - Prophecy of Fire (18 page)

“Look, on the underside.”

Khan tilted his head as he watched the shapes moving along the hull.

“No…how the hell?”

He looked back at Spartan, shaking his head angrily.

“Biomech war machines. What are they doing here?”

Spartan grimaced.

“Yeah, looks like combat drones, the same as those on Hyperion. They must have come on the T’Kari ship.”

He looked back to the suited official with the bloodied nose.

“You didn’t scan the exterior before bringing it here?”

The man said nothing, and Spartan could do little to hide his anger. Looking back at the window, it was clear a large number of the machines were making their way from the ship. He counted them one by one before rubbing his forehead with his right arm.

“Okay, I count over twenty of them, plus however many got here in the last few minutes.”

“More than twenty? Just one can take on a marine squad,” Khan said incredulously.

“Yeah, in that case we need to get busy,” Spartan replied, “Against green citizens and local security units, these machines will tear them apart. I reckon one of them could take this place.”

He wiped his brow, considering his best approach to the problem.

“They’ll secure the docks first, then move to take the station.”

“And then?” asked the senior man in the black suit.

“They are Biomech machines; they’ll do what they always do. Entrench, expand, and then exterminate. They have to be stopped and fast!”

Spartan grabbed the engineer by the shoulder.

“We need to break contact with the docking arm. Can you do that?”

The man thought for a second before answering. At the same time the grinding sound of metal on metal sent screams through the station. The telltale thuds far away were the only indication that compartments had been breached and exposed to the vacuum of space.

“Yes, but not from here. It has to be done manually from the control station.”

Spartan sighed deeply, resigned to what was coming.

Am I surprised? Like it would be easy.

“And where is that?”

The man pointed in the direction of the sound where the screaming was coming from. Khan laughed, the roar surprisingly all but Spartan, who moved back to the three men in suits. They seemed to be equally stunned about the situation.

“This station is screwed. Get everybody away from this deck and to the habitation deck. It’s right above us, right?”

The closest man nodded quickly, now finally taking the situation as seriously as Spartan and Khan were.

“Yes, the next level up is habitation and retail.”

Khan laughed loudly at the mention of shopping. It was one of those areas that had always amused him. Right now, in this awful scenario, the idea of people buying goods appealed to him in a twisted way.

“Good,” he said, pulling the man close to him. “You need to get the order out to everybody on this station to clear this level. Seal every door, passage, and shaft in the next ninety seconds. Understood?”

The man nodded, but Spartan doubted the man truly understood his plan. He had seen these machines in battle before. They didn’t cover ground particularly fast, but they were resilient, scheming, and even worse; they were deadly in a fight.

“What will you do?” he asked nervously.

Spartan glanced to Khan who simply nodded back to him. The two must have been in so many scrapes since their escape from the Biomech ship that even something like this was insignificant. A man shouted, and the glint of flashing steel beckoned off in the distance. Everybody in sight was moving away from it as quickly as they could manage. Only Spartan moved toward the sight with just the engineer and Khan following. He made it halfway before looking back over his shoulder.

“Whatever we can!”

Khan grabbed a fallen metal chair in one hand and smashed his fist into the frame to leave several fractured pieces of metal. It was barely a club but better than nothing. He lifted it to his shoulder and called back to them as well.

“Just do you job. Get these people out of here!”

The men in suits were still standing in the same place as the three vanished into the blackness and toward the screams. The shortest looked to the one still holding his bloodied nose.

“Well, what now?”

The man spat blood onto the ground. As the spittle hit the metal floor, the station shook again. He struggled to stay upright while the station settled.

“We do what the savage suggested…for now.”

Ganymede and Titan were amongst the few remaining prosperous colonies in Sol. Though many still lived on the Earth and Martian colonies, they were the minority. The largest populations were those of Earth’s single moon and on the moons of Saturn and Mars. The moons had avoided the decay of the planets and maintained a more powerful role in relation to trade and space travel. The construction of the Rift station in close orbit of Ganymede would see its fortunes rise as well, as its significance in the unfolding drama that had begun in Helios with the Prophecy of Fire.

The Lost World

The hull shuddered as ANS Conqueror took a final round of fire from the Biomech fleet. Even though they were hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, the energy from the Biomanta warships could strike the Alliance vessels in less than two seconds. Only the Conqueror Battlecruisers were equipped with after particle beam emitters, and every ten seconds they returned fire, doing equal harm to the opposing force. A young lieutenant struck his head on one of the bulkheads as yet another impact tore a chunk of plating from the rear port side of the ship.

“Almost there, Admiral,” said the helmsman calmly.

Admiral Lewis did his best to hide the distress on his face as he watched the mainscreen. Although the fleet was accelerating away from the scene of the carnage, the multiple external cameras still showed the crippled ships they had abandoned. They had moved into a new lower orbit, placing them almost on the opposite side of the moon and out of direct line of sight with the Biomech fleet. It was a temporary respite, and if the Biomechs gave chase or split up, they would be exposed once more. The fleet was now returning to its original orbit distance from Eos, so as to not end up looping around to face the enemy fleet.
Captain Marcus could see his friend and superior officer was hurting badly, but there was little he could do or say in comfort. He instead returned to the tactical assessment of the enemy ships.

“Our status?” asked the Admiral, almost dreading to check.

The XO had been in the middle of a discussion with Lieutenant Vitelli. He looked to the Admiral and pointed at the tactical display where it showed the green outlines of fourteen ships.

“Admiral, all surviving ships are still operational. We have damage and casualties on all vessels, as well as significant fighter losses. The last volley damaged the aft emitter array as well as venting four more compartments.”

He paused for nearly two seconds before adding.

“Firing time and accuracy has been affected throughout the ship. Damage to power systems, infrastructure, and substantial crew losses are hurting us badly, Admiral.”

“And them?” he said, pointing at the main screen.

Both looked to the scattered wreckage of the sixteen ships that had been lost between the two fleets so far.

“Our scans show no survivors, Admiral.”

He could feel a sickness welling up inside his body at this news. The feelings of betrayal burned through his chest, and he found it hard to look at the screen. The battle had been shorter than he’d expected. Instead of the careful maneuvering and skirmishing, they had simply smashed through his lines and ignored the damage he’d inflicted. He closed his eyes for a second before the XO continued speaking.

“The Biomech fighters are finishing off what the Biomantas started. It is a slaughter out there.”

Every part of him wanted to slow the fleet and turn it around, but with a third of his forces gone, he knew it was suicidal. He had just fourteen ships remaining while the enemy still had seventeen of their deadly vessels in action. The near destruction of a single ship had been a great blow to him, but this was something else.

What will force them back? They must have suffered as greatly as we did?

“What about damage? The reports from the fighter wings must be in by now. How did they do?”

Lieutenant Vitelli moved his hands in front of the tactical display to bring up a series of schematics that showed both the ships of the Alliance fleet as well as those in the enemy fleet. Columns of data ran underneath each one showing size, mass, specification, and damage.

“All but one of their ships sustained damage, and according to the reports from Captain Evans, they were able to destroy at least three of the emitters on the remaining ships.”

Interesting,
thought Admiral Lewis
. Is that enough?

“What is your assessment, Lieutenant?”

The man rubbed the back of his hand on his chin twice before answering.

“If these reports are accurate, then they will have a fleet of roughly comparable size to our own and with similar capabilities. Even their fighter numbers are not so far off ours.”

Admiral Lewis didn’t like what he had to say, but it was as expected.

“So if we return to battle, we can expect what?”

He knew the answer but asked anyway.

“Well, our newer ships are undoubtedly able to match them, ship to ship. The older Crusader class is having trouble causing enough damage before being hit by their weapons. We have found no command ships of any kind though. The fleet operates like a single living organism that reacts and improvises instantly.”

Admiral Lewis shrugged.

“That is something for us to consider for the future. All we can do right now is engage them with whatever weapons we have at our disposal. Why are they taking so long to destroy? Every time we damage them, they should lose a degree of effectiveness, just as we do.”

He gazed at the previous images of the enemy ships. The shapes were almost beautiful to look at. The metal hulls were sleek, and the wide wings gave the impression they could glide through space like fish in the deep ocean. The human ships of the Alliance were the exact opposite. Their outer hulls had more in common with the brick shapes of twentieth century warships, with their thick armored belts, layered sections, and complex superstructures. The different in quality and technology was becoming more apparent, at least to him. He pointed at the Biomanta.

“Do you know why this isn’t happening?”

Vitelli rested his chin in his hand and nodded.

“I have an idea, and it’s our scans of their armor that concerns me the most.”

“How so?”

Lieutenant Vitelli tapped the nearest Biomanta, and it enlarged to fill half of the tactical display. The name was certainly apt, as it looked surprisingly similar to the ancient Earth fish. He pointed at the central structure.

“We are not detecting any form of individual life reading in this structure.”

Admiral Lewis looked confused for a moment.

“I don’t understand. You said our sensors detected life aboard them?”

Vitelli nodded furiously.

“Yes, but that was not entirely accurate. If you look at the data, it is clear these ships are nothing like we’ve seen before. I very much doubt they are conventional ships with AI Cores controlling them. It is something else.”

He paused as if expecting the others to need a moment.

“These ships, they are partially or entirely organic. The living tissue is built directly into the spacecraft itself, with mechanical components fused over the surface.”

Admiral Lewis lifted both of his hands in protest.

“Wait...no, wait a minute. You’re saying these ships are alive?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

The rest of the officers continued moving about their business, but Admiral Lewis stood in silence as he digested the information.