Star Crusades Nexus: Book 09 - The Black Rift (5 page)

Teresa’s lip twitched a moment as she recalled the reports.

“Yes, the NHA commander in that sector assured us he could keep the entire front secure. We redeployed our forces, and then the machines tunneled up into his command post. We almost lost the entire quadrant on that day.”

Teresa shook her head bitterly.

“Yeah.”

With her left hand, she traced the positions her forces had been fighting over for weeks.

“NHA forces have finally linked up with our marines at all nine locations, and each of them is expanding our areas of control slowly. The General is sending down another two regiments to reinforce our forces here.”

Teresa nodded.

“Good. We need a reserve, if anything else.”

She indicated toward a table on which a tactical battlefield projector showed a large map of this part of the planet. Although the world was in theory a massive urban settlement, there were some parts more heavily populated than others. The capital and its outlying districts for more than fifty kilometers in all directions had become known as simply the City since they had arrived. There were eight other locations across the globe similar in scale, and Teresa pointed to each of them.

“We have strong points in the most important parts of this planet, apart from the site of the Planetary Defense Installation. We only control two major zones in the Southern districts.”

“True,” agreed the Captain, “and the enemy has given ground at most of our major sites. They are regrouping and concentrating their forces at the site of the Planetary Defense Installation and the city districts within twenty kilometers of the site.”

She then pointed to another two positions above and below the same place.

“Drones show their machines are constructing major defenses along the location of the old perimeter skywalks. Give it another week, and the machines will have three zones surrounded by fortified defenses and underground chambers.”

Captain Tycho sighed.

“This is our concern.”

He indicated the areas already taken by the marines.

“Our strategy has been successful, and we have taken back substantial areas from the enemy. Even so, the best estimate of their strength is over two hundred thousand, but that could be way off. They are pulling back from our forces and hunkering down.”

Teresa leaned back and stretched her back a little. She had been concentrating on the attritional grind for so long now. The first two weeks had been completely different, with both sides vying for control of the planet. They had been evenly matched, but the enemy had changed tack.

“It’s as though they want to preserve their forces.”

Captain Tycho looked back to her.

“Of course. It’s a delaying tactic. They don’t want to win this, not yet anyway. They have control of the Doomsday Weapon, even if it is currently non-functioning, and the Animosh have been providing technical and logistical support.”

Teresa could have smiled, if it hadn’t meant the war would go on for even longer.

“So they want to keep us pinned down, but why?”

There was little opportunity to continue the conversation. One of the lookouts had already spotted them and called out as Teresa could see black shapes off into the distance. From there, even the enhanced optics of the PDS Alpha armor was unable to show much. All she could tell was that the craft were relatively small and heading toward Alliance positions. They were immediately followed by sonic booms that indicated the craft were traveling at supersonic speeds. Teresa turned and called out to the watchtower off to her left.

“Sergeant, who is that?”

The marine swung around a double gun mount and tracked the objects. A second marine checked something on the computer and then looked back at her.

“Three Maulers coming down from orbit. They are IFF tagged from Ticonderoga.”

Teresa smiled at her Captain.

General Rivers.

“Looks like the General can smell the change. Get ready for his arrival. He’ll be here in less than a minute.”

The Captain saluted and moved off to prepare the ground staff for the imminent arrival. At the same time a young lieutenant, a man clearly keen on making a good impression, was shouting to marines. In just a few seconds, a hastily assembled honor guard of marines moved out and lined up. All of them wore almost completely unblemished armor and carried their carbines on improvised slings on their shoulders. Teresa finished sending a set of orders to the local patrols via the tactical battlefield projector and then looked back.

“What the hell are you doing?” she yelled at them.

A corporal, the unit's leader, looked at them and then to her. Teresa shook her head in disbelief at the site of the heavily defended Bastion, with its mixture of dugouts, thick walls, and watchtowers. There were three reinforced landing platforms and waiting next to them a line of marines. The absurdity of the situation almost made her laugh.

“Uh, Sir?”

Their armor betrayed them as new arrivals from the fleet. It wasn’t the marines' fault. Teresa could see they were uncomfortable being made to stand out in the open, with no consideration given to cover or protection. Teresa moved closer, but not too close.

“Are you trying to draw attention to the arrival of somebody important? Contrary to popular opinion, the machines aren’t dumb. Are you looking to get one of our commanders assassinated?”

The man shook his head nervously.

“No, Colonel, my apologies. I just…”

Teresa lifted her hand.

“I don’t want to hear it, Corporal. Get back to what you were doing.”

The sound of the Maulers became louder as the formation moved overhead. Teresa walked off to the right and away from the landing pad that had been cleared specifically for craft up to Mauler size. The three Maulers traveled in a wide, rather loose formation as they came in low. Each of them began to fire off flares in arcing patterns around the landing site. These small devices were a simple defense against potential heat tracking weapons, but as the first Mauler came in, there appeared to be no signs of enemy action. By the time it was twenty meters off the ground, the other two had begun to accelerate away into a circular holding pattern directly overhead. Teresa’s visor automatically activated, sensing the coming dust storm. Her vision was quickly obscured as the large landing craft came down, with its corner-mounted engines blasting the ground. The screaming sound of its descent stopped, and the cloud of dust slowly cleared to reveal the dark shape of the squat looking craft. A door opened up, and the bright interior light spilled out to highlight the silhouette of a single man in full battle attire.

“General Rivers, good to see you on the ground once more.”

The Great Biomech War solidified the Alliance’s presence in the Orion Nebula, or more specifically, around the Helion Nexus. This critical juncture that joined stars and worlds together would prove to be the most significant reason for the violent success of humanity. Not since the gold rush years of early colonization in Alpha Centauri was so much wealth created.

Orion – The future?

Prometheus Seven Outpost, Prometheus Sector

Colonel Pierce watched the screen like a hawk. The enlarged imagery of the forces waiting outside could be seen in a dozen different directions. Most of the images showed the large warships and their weapon systems, but it was the bank of nine screens on the one side, functioning as a mock window to the world, that caught his eye. From that particular vantage point, he had a perfect view of the undersides of the Alliance ships. In the last two minutes, the launch bays of the assault transport had deployed nine military shuttles. These craft, like much of what waited near the station was old equipment. That didn’t mean it was antiquated, but they were certainly not Hammerheads or Maulers, and that gave him hope.

If the regime of Harrison is as powerful as he says it is, wouldn’t they have full access to the entire military spectrum of war gear?

He could only hope it meant the support for this transitional movement was poor at best; because if the forces on Terra Nova had general support throughout both the military and civilians, they could expect things to get much worse. He had no doubt the station could defend itself against a small-scale assault, but nothing more. That was what the fleet was for, and right now they had much more important things to worry about in T’Karan and beyond. He looked back out and toward the ships. The shuttles had positioned themselves into two small groups ready to make the journey to the station, but not one of them was moving. He shook his head, looking over to his communications officer.

“Did the signal get through?”

The man nodded.

“Good. Send out a general distress call that we are under attack by renegade military forces. I want the news to get to every colony. Mars, Kerberos, Carthago, Prime…all of them.”

“Aye, Sir.”

He then turned his attention to Lieutenant Young, his security chief who was already waiting in full tactical gear, alongside a single four-man fireteam.

“We've got a single platoon of marines on board, right?”

The man nodded quickly.

“Yes, Sir, thirty-six marines, each one a veteran of the Helion Uprising. They are skilled and experienced, Sir.”

He tried to look reassuring, but it was far from that. Instead, he nodded to the others in the station, especially the technical staff and engineers.

“We might be down on numbers, Sir, but all personnel on this station have been trained in basic combat. They are ready to defend themselves if necessary. We have the basic weapons and gear in the combat lockers, and I’ve drilled them every week for the last nine months on this.”

He pointed to the plan of the station.

“We use our own people to provide a limited perimeter defense, nothing major, just a screen. Further back, we have the regulars as a mobile reserve. We’ve drilled it, and I can have a squad to hold a sector in a maximum of six minutes.”

Colonel Pierce had his moment of doubt as he looked at the marine, but he couldn’t argue with his logic. The never-ending drills had become something of a minor issue on the station. He had a hundred jobs that needed doing, especially with the clandestine operations to bring additional ground troops through the Rift. Many of these were no more than thugs and criminals, but there were plenty of retired military in the mix as well as those looking to make a quick buck. The risk to security with these people was much greater than normal, especially when a number of their commanders had been brought on board for clearance.

This is much worse.

The idea of marines defending tunnels and passageways was worrying enough. But this idea of sending out engineers, scientists, and technicians with light weapons could result in only one thing, mass casualties for both sides.

I’ve got to defuse this thing. I’ve got to.

“What about the transport? Are they still on board?”

Lieutenant Young smiled.

“I sent the order for them to stay until we knew what was happening. They are waiting to hear if we need help. The main landing bay is secured, and they are not far from us.”

That was the first bit of good news he’d heard all day. He looked to the mainscreen where the live stream from the enemy command ship continued to run. He’d seen the same model of ship many times. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that this particular vessel had been one of those waiting to be scrapped. There were a number of high-orbit decommissioning sites around Terra Nova where old ships went to die. Even this far into the future, and with so many planets, it was more cost effective to strip down old ships than to harvest new materials. Scores of ships from the Uprising a generation ago had been sent there as they were replaced with newer classes of ship.

Surely not? Is this where Harrison has been building up his base of support, with the old shipyards and scrappers?

The entire industry of scrappage had been a massive issue of the last five years, primarily due to involvement by gangs and criminals. The materials and equipment used on military ships, even the old models, were worth considerable amounts of money. He rubbed at his jaw and made a mental note to look into this further. Then he spotted movement near the shuttles.

The idiots! Are they trying to start a war?

“Captain. Do not make the mistake of trying to board this station. I am authorized to use lethal force against any intruder.”

The man chuckled on the other side via the live videostream that was being sent out unencoded and on more than thirty different bands.

“There are no intruders here. These are Alliance Navy vessels, and I am sending teams over to assist in your security operations. I expect nothing less than professional courtesy and all the help you can offer me.”

The Colonel was on the brink of resignation when he noticed the groan from two female officers. He looked to them and watched as one dropped to her knees and vomited uncontrollably.

“What’s going on?”

More of the officers began talking, but he could see the communications officer waving at him furiously. As soon as they made eye contact, the man beckoned for him to come to his screen. Colonel Pierce walked the short distance, along with a handful of other officers.

“What is it?”

There was no need to answer, though. It was a live videostream by the Alliance News Network, the official voice of the government. It showed the Grand Palace on Terra Nova. Lines of civilians and soldiers filled the space while a speech continued. In the center was a beautiful sculpture of men fighting creatures and on the floor a number of still forms. It was the scrolling ticker that stunned every one of them. It simply read that a full-scale coup was underway by the forces of General Rivers and separatists amongst the Biomechs.

“Is it true?” asked a junior science officer.

Colonel Pierce brought his fist down onto the console.

“How can you even ask this? General Rivers is assisting with combat operations in the Helios System.”

He looked at the image and then pointed at three points on the screen.

“Magnify those.”

It took seconds for each of the segments of video to be enlarged and enhanced on the bank of screens. Each showed the scene from a different vantage point. The first was of the bodies, their heads still covered. The second showed long lines of soldiers in a strange version of the Marine Corps armor. The final image was of President Harrison and his entourage.

“It says those bodies are generals taken from the fighting over Terra Nova.”

He turned back to look at his own officers.

“Those generals are already in T’Karan, along with Admiral Churchill.”

“So who are they?” asked the science officer.

There was still doubt in the young officer’s voice.

“I have no idea. But based on the expression on Harrison’s face, you can be sure it is somebody he fell out of favor with.”

“Sir. There’s more,” said the communications officer.

This time he didn’t bother checking and simply diverted the latest feed to the three screens on the right. It showed several ancient warbarges and a number of other unidentified ships engaging in a violent space battle. The text underneath described how loyal Alliance forces had beaten off rebel separatists over Terra Nova.

“No, this is nonsense,” said Colonel Pierce, “There is no evidence that any of our military forces have been engaged in hostile action.”

The chief science officer twisted about excitedly.

“You’re right, Sir. Look. The computer has matched the location of the celestial bodies in the background. This is clearly Mars. I suspect it’s part of the fight between the Biomech ship and the defending Earthsec vessels from over a month ago.”

The Colonel looked at the footage and watched until he lifted his hand.

“Freeze that!”

With the image now static, he moved his arms to zoom in. The detail blurred for a moment but quickly sharpened to show the flanks of an ancient war barge. It was the ship alongside it that he was most interested in.

“There. That is no warship of ours. Look, she bares the insignia of Earthsec. Check her configuration with our systems.”

The station’s chief tactical officer was already on it. In a few more seconds, he had detailed schematics up on the screen and alongside the frozen image of the ship. It was clear they were the same vessel, right down to the name emblazoned in black on her bow.

“It’s ESS Dauntless, Sir, a four hundred-year old Commando Carrier. Her commander is a Captain Thomas Cobb. According to our information, the ship is still at Mars, along with the Captain.”

Colonel Pierce smiled, a grim expression that betrayed no real pleasure. He spoke loudly so that all those present would hear him loud and clear.

“This footage confirms just one thing. The government on Terra Nova is going through a major crisis. I suspect this is a localized coup, with minor support from some of the planet’s less favorable criminals. There has always been a degree of distrust between the capital and the other colonies, but this…it is too much.”

“Your orders, Sir?”

They looked at each other only for a moment, but there was a clear understanding now.

“They are fabricating evidence based on random videostreams spliced together. If they are prepared to do that, well, they are prepared to do almost anything to achieve their own ends. This last report is a mixture of the fighting at the Mars Rift several months ago and the relief force from Earth. The whole thing is garbage.”

He looked away from the footage and tried to look reassuring.

“None of us will raise a hand against our fellow citizens. We will, however, deny criminal forces from boarding our facility. We will not fire first, but I’ll be damned if I’ll roll over for another dictator. Understood?”

A reasonably loud chorus of agreement came back. He knew they would do what was needed, even though none of them had the stomach for the potential bloodbath that was to come.

“Good. Get units positioned at all airlocks, and prepare the medical bay for potential casualties. If they do try and force their way in, we can expect losses on both sides. We will be ready.”

He then looked back to the communications officer.

“Combine all of our external and internal feeds into a single stream. I want this broadcast to every repeater station in the Alliance. If Harrison thinks he can start his own personal fiefdom, he can forget it. We’ve had our civil war, and we’re not about to have another one. This will go out live.”

He then walked to the Chief Engineer.

“Keep the Rift open for as long as you can, but keep a close eye on it. If those ships try and make a break for it, you know what to do.”

“I can close it right now, Sir?”

Colonel Pierce shook his head.

“No, the Rift is our gateway to T’Karan and to the Admiral. That is the only direction we can expect help. Just watch them. They cannot be allowed to enter T’Kari space.”

With a nod the man went back to his screen, and now all Colonel Pierce could do was watch and wait. He looked to the screen on his right where a flashing message simply read that his status had been received. What kept drawing his eye was the counter. It read seven minutes.

Come on! Hurry up.

Lieutenant Young still waited, but he twisted his head and looked back for a second. He spoke quietly into his intercom and then stepped closer to the Colonel.

“Sir. They’re armored up and ready.”

“Good. Don’t use the comms. I need this kept quiet, and if they’ve got access to our records, they probably already known our communications procedures. Send a runner down there and bring them back.”