Star Crusades Nexus: Book 06 - Call to Arms (16 page)

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Lieutenant Jenkins watched with fascination as the four arachnid shaped machines emerged from their hiding places. Even though they were mechanical beasts, they moved with a speed and grace that could easily have been a living creature. The first of them leapt out from inside the shattered wreckage that lay strew about the shuttle landing area. Although he had watched the footage of the initial attack on the refinery, this felt different. Probably because everything he was watching was taking place on the surface of the planet he was currently orbiting, and it was all happening right now.

"Yeah, am I surprised?" complained Khan.

"No...We have to warn them!" muttered Lieutenant Jenkins.

Spartan shook his head.

"They know."

It was true. Even as the machines emerged from cover, the first of the Earthsec operatives opened fire. The initial volley was impressive and showered the attackers with small-caliber bullets. That was the extent of their effectiveness though.

"Now it starts," Khan said in a hushed tone.

Spartan said no more but watched in silence as the four machines split up and did exactly as he would have expected. There were cries of anguish and fear from the small number of crew that had seen some of the footage on the other displays. Only a handful of combat operatives remained, and Spartan spotted one of them running for a plastic bin. The poor man was too late and vomited over the wall and onto another of his comrade's boots.

"This is how it always goes," said Spartan.

He then looked down and checked the details on his own antiquated datapad, a unit he had borrowed from one of the officers’ quarters just after the shuttles had left. He lifted his eyes as the four charged into the nearest platoon of Earthsec operatives, with terrifying results. As Spartan had prophesized, their armor proved less than useless. Each machine tore apart two or three men before turning their attention on Cobb's unit.

"We've got to do something!" said Lieutenant Jenkins.

The man lifted himself to his feet, but Khan stopped him and placed his hands on the man's shoulder.

"No, we can't help them right now, but we can learn. It will take hours to get our people down there. Spartan's already on it."

Lieutenant Jenkins' face tightened, and his jaw stiffened, but Spartan also turned to him and nodded at the footage.

"Whether they live or die is down to Cobb, their gear, and their training. I promise you though, we will be there in three hours, and when we get there, we'll fix this. Okay?"

He waited until receiving the nod from Jenkins before continuing.

"I have another shuttle already loaded in the drop bay. We leave in eleven minutes."

It took another few seconds before Jenkins looked back to Spartan and grabbed his shoulder.

"You planned for this?"

The look of disgust was clear, but Spartan was less than amused. He ripped the arm away from his body and sent another batch of commands via the battered looking datapad.

"Are you kidding? We told your boys what they were up against, and they screwed up. So yeah, I made my own plans. Just be thankful I bothered, or we'd be looking at another twenty plus hours before the next shuttle can be fuelled, armed, and rotated in for launch."

Khan raised an eyebrow at the estimated time. He knew that Dauntless was an old ship, but twenty hours seemed excessive to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but unlike the Lieutenant, he knew the facial expressions of Spartan, and this time he let it go. Instead of speaking, he nodded and then looked away; now uncertain as to what expressions he ought to be showing. A long stream of gunfire pulled them back to the terrible scene that was taking place on the surface of Mars.

“The shuttle,” said Spartan under his breath.

All three looked back and watched as the machines butchered the men while just a handful returned fire. Out of two platoons, barely a dozen got off any shots, and none succeeded in inflicting anything more than minor damage on the machines. Several video feeds cut off as the men were killed, but also as the machine moved on to crash into the two shuttles, leaving dents and holes through their sides.

"Look, there's Cobb!" said Khan.

They watched him jump back inside the shuttle, and then a moment later he appeared on the other side and rolled down to the ground. One of the machines ripped off the side of the machine and pulled itself inside.

"He's a dead man now," said Jenkins quietly.

To all of their surprise, two more men appeared from the one door and hurled themselves free as the craft tore itself apart in a spectacular explosion. The machine failed to emerge, but the other three then turned their attention on Cobb. Many more of the operatives were now scattered and managed to put down fire onto the machines but to little effect.

"I told them, those guns are just going to spitball out there. They need heavy weapons, the bigger the better," said Spartan.

More feeds cut, including one long-range camera from the communication tower. The last one on the first shuttle twisted and then partially fell off so that it was now showing a view of a crippled tower, and one of the machines stabbing its blades through an unfortunate operative. A bright blue light flashed by, and then the feed flickered blue before fading out to white. Spartan sat up in surprise.

"Uh, what the hell was that?"

Lieutenant Jenkins was already on it and moved the imagery back several frames until they spotted a large bipedal form holding some kind of large gun system. All three sat there in stunned silence. Spartan finally spoke.

"Is it me, or is that a Biomech?"

Khan nodded and said nothing.

"Look, to the left."

They all looked at the target of the dreaded Biomech's weapon where the blue energy has shredded it four frames before the feed cut.

"No, that can't be right," said Spartan.

Even Khan found himself unable to say anything of use. Jenkins enlarged the image to show the thermal blast around the eight-legged mechanical warriors that had been attacking the operatives.

"Why is the Biomech attacking its own robotic soldiers?"

For the first time in a very long time, neither had anything to say.

It would be a mistake to assume that all members of the many worlds, colonies, and empires of the known universe might be alike. On Earth, in the early twenty-first century there were over seven billion people, inhabiting nearly two hundred unique countries. Of these countries, there were scores of ethnic groups, languages, and traditions, even between individual cities. The two largest religions of the times, Islam and Christianity, both comprised of many variants, all competing and often violently. We must therefore approach the new alien domains with a degree of sophistication and consideration. After just a few months, the four social groups of the Helions gave a good example of what would happen if all Helions were considered the same. The picture of alien societies completely transformed upon the first diplomatic meetings with the Anicinàbe, a fragmented nomadic people that occupied over twenty stars, yet inhabited no worlds.

The Races of the Known Universe

Admiral Churchill had moved from his quarters to the command center in readiness for the battle that lay ahead. Reports were still coming in from other Alliance outposts that confirmed unknown ships were on the move. That, combined with the ever-approaching deadline for the arrival of Comet C34 at Helios, told him just one thing; war was coming, and it would be coming very soon. No sooner had he arrived than Director Johnson intercepted him.

“Admiral, I have news from one of my agents on Mars.”

He looked to Johnson, a surprised expression his face.

“Mars? I though the Rift had been deactivated on the other side?”

“Yes, it is. My agent sent a distress transponder directly into the Rift. It only started to transmit in the last hour.”

“Why?”

Johnson walked to one of the many screens and lifted his secpad to contact the unit wirelessly. It completely bypassed the main computer system and so slaved the screen. The series of thirty-one images showed an explosion and a number of objects falling toward the camera.

“My agent says this is the wreckage from a ship, one that matches the exact configuration described by Khan and Spartan during their captivity.”

The Admiral looked a little confused, so Johnson continued.

“This matches reports from Hyperion and Terra Nova where there have been sighting of these ships.”

He looked almost excited.

“Admiral, I think it’s working. These ships are all on the move, and every piece of evidence suggests they are heading for Helios.”

He examined the imagery in detail and moved back to the first frame that showed the ship. There were others of a similar design around it, as well as something blurred but much larger right behind it.

“What was it doing near Mars? Is this one of the ships that tried to move into position over Terra Nova?”

Not waiting for an answer, he brought up the threat assessment from the ships in orbit around Terra Nova. As he expected, the report confirmed four ships had appeared around the capital of the Alliance before being pursued to the Sol Rift. The Rift had collapsed before they could follow the Biomech ships through.

“So, all four ships of those got through. Are they all in Sol?”

Johnson breathed out almost in a sigh.

“Not just the four ships, the big one went through too. Although the distortion analysis suggests at least one was caught in the middle of the Rift collapse. I'd say somebody warned them.”

Admiral Churchill shook his head in disappointment.

“So, they stopped one of them coming through, but the rest made it."

He turned about and sighed, shaking his head.

"Those ships are something else. Bringing one down is quite a feat, but stopping the rest?"

He wiped his brow; his feelings on the matter clear to them all.

"If those ships made it to Mars, then they’re lost. The defenses around Mars are ancient and not helped by those fools from Earthsec. Do you know how tough it was persuading them to accept Alliance monitoring stations and a patrol ship?"

Of course, Director Johnson was all too familiar with the difficulty in operating so far on the fringes of Alliance territory. Even as he listened to the Admiral, he was busy tagging and checking more data from his analysts on Prometheus. He opened his mouth to speak but found himself immediately cut off.

"ANS Louisiana is the only warship in the system, and she’s nothing more than an old Achilles class frigate. I doubt they would last much more than five minutes against one of those ships, not least the rest of the fleet.”

He thought of the crew and small complement of marines that would be present on the ship and felt a pang of guilt. He had access to ships and could send help on to Terra Nova through the local Rift and then on to Sol.

But how would they get through the Rift? It has been closed from the other side. Only a Rift station like ANS Beagle has the energy and equipment to open a temporary Rift long enough for ships to get through.

His attention moved back to the images.

"Wait a second. What the hell is that thing?"

His hand pointed at the dark shape behind the other four ships.

"Yes, that's what I wanted to tell you about. According to the limited data that came through from Mars, well, it would appear several distress signals were being sent from the Mars orbit Rift control station as they came through."

"So?"

Director Johnson tried to smile.

"They were stating that something had taken control of the station and was deactivating the Rift...as the ships were coming through."

"What?" Admiral Churchill answered.

"You're telling me somebody managed to gain control of the station, outside of Alliance control, and shut it down?"

Johnson nodded.

"Yes, Admiral. The only question remaining is whether it was Earthsec, or somebody else that managed to gain access."

Admiral Churchill wasn't sure he liked the sound of either of those options. He had little to go on, and right now the indicators on his heavily fortified base reminded him he had his own problems. A trio of officers marched past and saluted as they made their way to one of the many computer centers buried deep inside the hard rock. The structure had been enlarged and fitted out with the best management and communications equipment available in the Alliance. The facility itself was located on one side of the central hub of the base, but an additional two floors up. There were multiple airlock seals that doubled up as security points, and internal weapons mounts were slaved directly to the base’s defense grid. He looked at his tactical officer and wondered what it had been like when the Zealots had run the place.

Something tells me, it would have been pretty similar.

"Admiral, I'll see what else my analysts have uncovered," said Director Johnson as he moved off to the side where had had set up a small station with a group of his senior officers. They had access to a dozen displays, as well as privileged access to the entire base’s data banks and communications systems.

"Let me know the minute you have data I can use."

The place was much bigger than its equivalent on a ship and housed officers from the Navy, Marine Corps, and civilian side of the Alliance. There were almost twenty officers and banks of computer screens for monitoring events above and below the surface. Admiral Churchill felt confident in his base, his facilities, and his defenses. Even the supply situation was good, and he had access to large quantities of drinking water, limitless power produced by capping the thermal vents, and several years’ worth of preprocessed and stored foods. Like all Naval installations, this one was crewed exclusively by official Alliance personnel and was one of the most efficient, self-sustaining bases in service.

Now we'll see if this plan is worth the paper it was written on.

The massive underground base was not the only resource he had at his control. As well as a small number of warships, he also had access to the Prometheus Seven Station. In the past, it had once been a beacon of private enterprise and later one of corruption and criminal activity. Now it was being used as a major orbital platform to control the region of space around Prometheus, and more important to act as a power station for the Prometheus-Orion Rift system.

Thousands of personnel now called the gigantic structure home. A small garrison protected it as well as several squadrons of fighters. With a circumference of over six kilometers, it was one of mankind’s greatest ever construction projects, ranking in importance to other famous bases such as the Titan Naval Station in orbit around Prime.

“Admiral, a message from P7, they have long-range imagery of the ships. Their database matches are already on the displays,” said the communications officer.

Admiral Churchill looked to the bank of screens on the wall and did his utmost to remain calm. The generic images of space quickly changed as each screen focused on a separate stream coming directly from the station. They showed the groups of dark shapes as ship after ship emerged from their hiding places inside the storm.

“Get me a full tactical assessment.”

He watched carefully, his eyes taking in every detail of the odd assortment of ships. As more arrived, he found his pulse quicken at the realization the planet was now surrounded by enemy ships. He looked to the large tactical display that showed him all of his available assets, and for a moment it improved his confidence. Even though his only ship-based protection was ANS Dreadnought, two small T'Kari vessels, and seven of the new Liberty class ships, he felt sure the additional defenses would be enough.

“Admiral, Colonel Morato requests an update.”

He looked at the screens and then spun about, quicker than he intended.

“In a moment. Before we get to that, I need information, and fast, dammit!”

Prometheus was more than just the planet, and to defend it, he would need access to every piece of information and every weapons system to hand. The base itself was equipped with an array of ground-based weapons that would make a direct assault deadly to an attacker. The smaller orbiting transit and defense platforms provided additional firepower. Last but not least, the P7 station was equipped with enough fighters and weapons to take on an entire Battlecruiser.

It's enough to look realistic. Hell, if might be a little too much. We don’t want to start a six-month operation just as the entire Helios thing kicks off. No. We need this fleet destroyed and as quickly as possible.

He looked back to his crew of the best men and women in the Alliance.

We have much bigger fish to fry than just some Biomech locals.

The first ships to appear in orbit around Prometheus were seven civilian transports. Each of them was of a vintage older than any other ship in the system. Right behind them came fifteen cruiser-sized vessels, each multi-colored, and protected by thick plating and covered in thick studs that ran along the underside and flanks.

"Get me schematics on those ships, what do we have?" he demanded.

Confidence had started to return, but the sight of these new vessels sent a shudder through his body. Transports and cruisers he could deal with, but unknowns were an ever-present worry with the Biomechs. He tried to forget what had happened to his own ships back in the War, but no matter how hard he tried, the betrayal of the machines that had turned his own ships against him was still a fresh wound.

A quick check on the system by the science and tactical officers came up with nothing. It came down to a chance examination of internal files by Intelligence Director Johnson, who had been silent until now as he'd been cross-examining the data from Terra Nova with what had been transmitted from Mars.

"I've got something," he said, much to the Admiral's surprise.

"What? How?"

Director Johnson approached him and motioned with his hands to send a stream of imagery to his screen from his secpad. The details of a ship structure and approximate design by the tactical computers had come up with something surprisingly similar to what they were looking at.

"It's the same configuration as the ships reported by Spartan, during their captivity by the T'Kari Raiders."

The Admiral sucked in a long breath as he skimmed through the text.

"This is all we have to go on?"