Star Crusades Nexus: Book 09 - The Black Rift (4 page)

Teresa felt her chest tighten at the mention of Spascia. Normally, she was an expert at keeping her mind on what needed to be done, but the very idea of that world filled her subconscious with images of the siege. Though both Helios Prime and Spascia were the scenes of major land battles, they couldn’t have been more different. Spascia was a long, drawn out siege, with both sides lacking enough ships to prove decisive. The fight had devolved into a perpetual battle for the few cities on the planet. It had earned a nickname, one she tried not to think of.

Spascia, the Seventh Circle of Hell.

It was a story she was all too familiar from her religious schooling. Dante had been a strange companion as a teenager, yet the idea of the area of hell reserved for the violent sent a shiver through her body. It was a thought she really wanted to avoid. While Spascia was bogged down, the fighting on Helios Prime had taken a completely different turn. Both sides had spread across the surface, and though the Helion and Alliance forces had now joined in, the fight was a long way from over. Both sides had chosen their ground well, and there were heavily fortified and defended zones in every direction.

Two of her captains moved their hands around the tactical projector to direct combat units while Teresa leaned back against the recently destroyed Eques walker. A lieutenant approached and handed her a metal cylinder. She nodded her thanks, opened up her visor, and took a quick swig of hot coffee. The liquid slid down her throat and instantly put a feeling of fire back into her blood. She twisted slightly and felt her body trying to resist. The aches and pains of years of service had taken their toll, yet as she observed their current position, she felt more alive than she had done in years. It was what she needed to dull the pain of what had happened in the last six weeks since she’d entered the Helios System.

“Colonel, seismic sensors are picking up movement in sector six.”

Teresa took a short breath and then pointed to one of the unattached icons.

“Send in the Khreenk. They had two squads out on patrol two klicks west. They can deploy sentry units and a robotic control unit.”

She looked away and then again at the display.

“Make sure they get out of the area. The Biomechs could be planting mines.”

The two men and a newly arrived third were more than capable of running this part of the fight. She walked through the base and checked on the engineers and officers running the place. As she walked past, they stopped and nodded, nothing more before returning to their duties. One of Teresa’s first orders had been to abandon saluting in the combat zone. It was a dangerous indication and had already cost them several officers. She made it halfway to the reinforced entrance where she was expecting her junior commanders when the warning came.

“Ten seconds!” announced the stronghold’s officer of the watch.

Teresa moved her eyes a little to track the movement of four guns. These were large caliber low-velocity weapon systems that were mounted onto the wheeled chassis of special Bulldog vehicles. They fired rocket-assisted shells that once at their peak altitude would deploy small wings and loiter for up to four minutes. Ground troops could then call in the shells exactly where they were needed over the entire frontline. Each gun had been moved into position inside a special dugout and then surrounded in sandbags for extra protection. All four guns lifted up another twenty degrees and then stopped.

Somebody is about to have one hell of a bad day.

“Fire!”

They all blasted away in a violent ripple. Teresa imagined what it would be like when the shells landed and hoped the forward observers would make the most of them. There were another dozen emplacements with similar guns all around the Bastion. What had been a forward base had now become an artillery position and command center for the frontline. The Alliance forces were as well equipped as they could ever expect to be, and with each extra day their long-range firepower and knowledge of the area grew.

Teresa moved her eyes a little to check the time.

Another four minutes.

She was due to meet up with three of her junior officers to plan the next seventy-two hours of operations. It was a long, drawn out process that required constant reports, updates, and intelligence from a hundred different units.

“Incoming counter-battery fire.”

It was a faceless warning, followed by a shrill siren that was sent out every few hours. It had happened now so many times that she didn’t even check to see where the warning had come from. The only thing she did check was the Alliance authorization that came with the warning. It all came up as clear and official, yet something deep down made her nervous.

They’re smart, those damned machines. One false alert to keep our heads down could give them a chance to do something unexpected.

It was a quick thought, but also an important reminder as to how the enemy could so easily work around their procedures. It was enough for her to check on the position and rank of the marine that had called out the order. It was a sergeant, newly arrived and stationed on the northern bunker.

Good. In that case I’ll get my head down.

Teresa automatically moved from her position and down into one of the hundreds of dugouts now littering the ruins of Helios Prime. Three other marines waited there and looked at her nervously.

“First bombardment?” she asked.

Two nodded, but a third shook his head. Teresa looked at him and noticed the scorch marks along the man’s shoulder. She’d seen them before, and they were from a weapon unique to this part of the universe.

“You’ve fought against the Helions?”

The man nodded.

“Yes, Sir, we were here during the Zathee Uprising.”

Teresa looked down at her leg. A similar mark ran from her thigh right down to her knee. It was an odd thing to bond over, but the shared damage seemed to draw far more interest than it should have.

“We were hit by the Animosh on more than a dozen occasions.”

The man sighed in agreement.

“I saw three of my squad die from those things. When are we going to get some armor that’s proof against them?”

Teresa almost laughed at that question.

“You’ve seen the damage those weapons can do against a Bulldog?”

The man nodded.

“Well, do you want to be walking around in that gear? Not even the Vanguards are safe against repeated hits from Animosh thermal weaponry. Fire and movement are better protection against them, not worrying about armor.”

She looked away from him.

Even if we did have new weapons and equipment, how would it get here? The Rift is still shut down.

The sound of interceptor guns rattled loudly, the final indication that the attack was coming. The micro-radar trackers were so accurate they could identify and monitor projectiles down to 20mm cannon rounds. In seconds, the automated gun turrets opened fire, and the sky filled with trails of projectiles, just as had happened a hundred times before.

Here it comes.

The bombardment was much shorter than expected. The first salvo struck short and merely shattered already ruined structures, as the broken shells disintegrated overhead and then fell like metal rain. Nine more shots came in after them, each containing high-explosive ordnance, but only three made it past the interceptors in one piece. The first struck one of the recently installed inner blast walls, tearing through it a hole the size of a man.

There’s more to come.

Two more shells came down and shook the ground. There was no immediate sign of danger; just the expected shaking and rumble from the impact. Within three seconds, the all-clear signal blasted out thorough the base.

“Up top, we’ve got a war to fight, Marines.”

Teresa was out first and in the low cloud of dust. She looked about and was relieved to see no bodies or burning vehicles. More marines emerged from their hiding places, like rabbits appearing from a warren.

“Back to your posts, move it!” barked a sergeant.

The seasoned marine emerged from his own shelter with his carbine held in one hand. The marines didn’t hesitate upon spotting him, and as quickly as they had dispersed, they were back into action. Teresa walked back to the recessed command bunker and went inside. As always, the two marines at the entrance ignored her.

About time, somebody remembered to stop saluting!

Once inside, she headed to the tactical unit and looked at the mapping information. The two captains were still busily running operations, and four more junior officers assisted with the air support and logistics. It was a small number of personnel for such an important role. Off to their right was a large control unit that extended up into a massive antenna. Every single order that was issued was dispersed via the digital communications network, as well as being repeated directly to Admiral Lewis and General Rivers.

We’ve got a lot of eggs down here in this basket.

It was only partially true, of course. In reality, combat command could be transferred to any part of the network. It was the beauty of the system, in that redundancy was built in from the ground up. An atomic weapon could wipe out Colonel Morato and her entire staff, and in less than a minute ANS Ticonderoga could take over the same role.

“Finally, we’re making progress.”

A tracked vehicle trundled past her, pulling a large wheeled trailer full of dirt and debris. The marines and engineers had dug three or more meters down in places, creating a separate world that was hidden from direct line of sight. Many sections were completely covered while others dug down to join the myriad of underground tunnels, road and rail systems. The one saving grace for Helios Prime was that during their long war with the machines, they had been forced to dig down. Over months and years, the vast cities littering the surface began building both above and below the surface. There were now entire parts of Helios Prime known derisively as iceberg cities; unusual urban zones where more existed below the surface than above it. The ground began to shake, and Teresa lifted her armored arm to cover her face.

“It’s Captain Devon, Sir. He’s taking the next patrol out.”

Teresa looked to her left and watched six Bulldogs move out. The first and last were the mobile gun variants, whereas the other four were standard troop carriers. She made a silent prayer for them, knowing full well that ambushes and improvised roadside bombs were more likely to maim or kill them than an actual standup fight. The young Lieutenant approached while checking both left and right as he closed the distance. He stopped, saluted, and then handed her a secpad. It was all very old fashioned; the man could just have easily sent it directly to his helmet. Instead, this man reverted to a system that was millennia old.

“Colonel, here are the latest arrival reports.”

She looked up and down at the man. Teresa had no idea of his name, but he was definitely one of the few that had survived the original orbital bombardment. She moved her eyes a little to the right where the visor on her helmet began to put up information on the man. Even though the unit details said he was from logistics, she could also see that his armor bore the marks of months of combat. The reports often told just part of the story, and right now she was intrigued by the two long scars on his chest that looked suspiciously like the weapons swung about by Decurion war machines. Colonel Morato looked down and then spotted a familiar face from the corner of her eye.

“Captain Tycho, about time you got back. I assume your mission was successful?”

The Captain approached, along with a pair of protective guards. He stopped and saluted with much gusto. The man moved with an awkward gait that betrayed the horrendous injuries he’d sustained years earlier. It didn’t stop him continuing his duties, however.

“Yes, Sir, we’ve done it. The last assault by the Vanguards broke through to the Helion landing zone and into their underground forward positions. We’ve made contact with the Zathee resistance.”

He shook his head in amazement.

“They’ve been down there for months now. Almost no food, few weapons, and still they want to fight.”

Teresa had heard the same in the other areas they had quickly liberated in the first week of operation.

“This has cleared the frontlines, at least for awhile. Now we have access to our landing sites and can redeploy our forces a little quicker.”

Teresa smiled briefly and then looked back to the tactical projector. The imagery had already confirmed their current position, but information from the man that had already been there was much more valuable to her.

“So. We have control of these sites. That’s good. What about maintaining the links between them, though? The machines have proven adept at slipping between our defenses and continually isolating and picking off fortifications and supply zones.”

Captain Tycho nodded quickly in agreement.

“That’s true. They are avoiding out strongest positions and then surrounding and overrunning wherever they find left. The 13
^th
NHA battalion took control of seven blocks of the Northern zones. We all know what happened there.”