Five, four...
He grabbed the object and hurled it barely in time. It made it halfway and then bounced on the ground before stopping just in front of the Thegns.
“Go!”
The marines leapt from their hiding places and activated their blast shields. An additional micro-fine plate dropped down in front of their visors that completely blocked out their view. Now they were totally dependent upon the data coming in from their sensors. All of them made it two or three meters before the grenades went off. The timing was near perfect, and all five exploded within half a second of each other. The precision weapons were powerful and sent a blast of heat, followed up with a small burst of electromagnetic energy and burning hot fragments of shattered metal.
Here we go, Teresa thought.
She deactivated the blast shield and found herself in front of a wounded Thegn. Without hesitation, she stabbed it in the chest and then yanked back the carbine and moved to the next. Spartan didn’t even bother using his bayonet and swung his carbine like a club. The others spread out before being engulfed in the mass melee where they were still outnumbered. Two of the marines were cut down by short-ranged fire, but they’d done their job. Spartan was inside the wrecked craft.
Almost there, he thought hopefully.
Being inside something like this reminded him of the great battle on Terra Nova. That sent a shudder down his spine. The final fight of the bloody civil war was hardly an occasion he wanted to be reminded of. He looked about the smashed metal and felt a pang of doubt. There was broken metal and bulkheads warped beyond recognition. Then he spotted it, a metal sarcophagus protected by a hex of metal bars. They were undamaged and glistened like newly polished steel. Dozens of tubes ran from the sacred object, each filled with an odd, semi-translucent fluid.
“So, this is another of their Cores. Why can’t they just have a man controlling this stuff?”
He knew full well why not, of course. These AI Cores were pieces of technology unique to the Biomechs. They used them instead of crews to command captured ships, and in this case as the backup way to control the bandon of troops fighting outside. Spartan moved closer to the thing even as the battle continued to rage outside. He pulled out the device given to him by Z’Kanthu and looked up at the Core.
“You!” hissed a metallic voice.
In front of him was a single Thegn, but this one was larger, much closer to Khan in shape and size. Like all the other Thegns, its skin was fused metal to give it a permanent suit of armor. It carried a maul shaped device in both hands and stepped in front of the Core to protect it. It looked at the object in Spartan’s hand.
“If you destroy the Core, you will lose this world. Without its leadership, my warriors will fight until every last one of them is dead.”
Spartan looked at its face and laughed loudly. The creature rocked slightly on its feet, waiting for the inevitable clash of weapons and flesh.
“Bullshit!”
The creature paused, perhaps confused for a brief moment. That was the moment Spartan charged forward. The Thegn warrior swung at him, but Spartan dove to the right and brought his carbine down on its shoulder. With a crack, the weapon’s stock snapped in two, leaving him holding just the muzzle and forward grip.
“We know your past, Spartan. Even if you live, you will still serve us. Remember your parents…”
The Thegn swung again, and this time the mace struck Spartan’s shoulder. It should have simply bounced off, but the object burned through the plating as though it was a plasma cutter. Sparks burst from it as the thing push its weapon further still.
“Hey!” came a familiar voice.
Spartan tilted his helmet slightly and spotted Teresa entering the wreckage. She held her carbine close to her hip and fired a single blast that struck the Thegn in the chest. The round easily punched through the armor, yet the warrior barely moved.
“You will both die,” it said angrily.
Teresa seemed more surprised it was speaking, than the fact the magnetic rounds had simply passed though the warrior unnoticed. This was the first time she’d ever heard a sound from a Thegn, not that this thing looked that much like them. Its coloring and armor was unique. It moved to face her, and Spartan lurched away at the Core. Teresa saw him go and ran forward at the Thegn commander. She made contact with her bayonet on its shoulder. With a cackle, it brought its left arm down and slammed the other mace into her helmet. The massive impact sent her to the floor, unconscious. It turned about and looked at Spartan who was busily fumbling with the panel to the right of the Core.
“You have no chance, Spartan. Destroying the Core will not save you.”
It lifted both of its arms high, preparing to dash Spartan’s helm with the powerful weapons. Spartan ignored him and pushed the unit into the panel, precisely as described by Z’Kanthu. He spun about as the maces came down for his face. It took every ounce of energy and skill for him to twist away from the attack. Even so, both maces scraped across his chest and crashed into his shoulder. The impact was heavy, and Spartan staggered to his side before collapsing to the ground. The Thegn looked at the Core and then turned to face Spartan, his back to the thing he had been protecting.
“The Core gives us orders, but any commander can override them. You must know this.”
Teresa rolled to her side and tried to stand, but she was still stunned and her body failed her. It was more like working under heavy sedation. She reached down for her pistol, and her hand dropped down loosely to her side.
“Spartan,” she said weakly.
* * *
Khan couldn’t move, yet still he laughed. One after another, the Thegns pushed him down with sheer weight of numbers. Blades and fists smashed him over and over, and still he refused to die. He lay there on his back and grabbed the nearest Thegn with both hands. Two more pulled on his arms, pulling back his left. With all his remaining effort, he smashed his right fist into the nearest. A great puff of metal fragments and flesh signaled the creature’s demise, but another two threw themselves into the gap.
“This is exactly how I wanted…”
The Thegns slowed their attack and then the closest loosened its grip. Khan found his leg was free, and with an almighty effort, he raised himself to a knee and grabbed the Thegn still attached to his left arm. With a quick motion, he brought it down on his bent knee and snapped its back.
“Khan, look,” said Olik from the other side of the battlefield.
At first Khan felt his heart drop. There were scores of Thegns between them, and even more around the fallen Z’Kanthu, yet each had slowed their movement and stood about watching them. If he could have found a single word to describe them, it would have been sullen. Only one, a badly damaged Thegn with half an arm staggered toward Khan. It made an odd noise, and Khan felt almost sorry for the thing. His gun was still non-functioning, and the blade on his left arm was gone, presumably embedded in one of the many bodies around him. He looked right and smiled at the happy sight of a single reaming blade.
“Good.”
Khan walked at the thing and then built up speed. The Thegn did the same, but its severe damage made it shuffle more like a zombie than a warrior. In its remaining hand was a curved piece of sharp metal that it lifted high. Khan reached it and took the Thegn’s blow with a twisted hanging parry from his right arm. At the same time, he stepped out to the left and brought his blade back down in an arcing cut that hit the Thegn in the back of the neck. With perfect technique, the weapon sliced through metal and tissue, instantly decapitating the final threat. The Thegn dropped to its knees and then toppled over to land on its chest. Olik laughed.
“The thing was broken down, was that really necessary?”
Khan looked like a demonic war machine, his body and armor bent, scratched, and damaged on almost every surface. His helmet was dripping with blood, yet when he opened his visor, he could do nothing but howl with delight. Finally, he stopped and looked to his comrade.
“My friend, it is
always necessary.”
A dull crunching sound made both of them turn their attention to where a mound of bodies marked the fall of Z’Kanthu. First a single chunk of metal lifted up, and then he pushed up onto his feet. Dust fell from his shoulders as he staggered and then placed a damaged arm on a pillar.
“It is done. I now control the bandon. Only one remains, the Thegn officer. I can sense it, but I cannot control it.”
Khan smiled.
“Good, now let’s find Spartan before he gets himself killed.”
Z’Kanthu tried to move, but his legs were too badly damaged to do more than hobble.
“I suggest you hurry. The Thegn commander will not let him escape.”
Khan was already on the way, but he had time for one last quip as he left the scene of battle.
“Spartan has no intention of escaping.”
* * *
Spartan lifted himself up from the ground and shook his head. With a click he deactivated the helmet visor, and it hissed open to reveal his scarred face. He wore a thin black beard that covered his chin and ran up his cheeks. His unkempt hair pushed down over his forehead, yet his eyes oozed an emotion, one the Thegn could never have understood. Anybody else might have thought it was rage or anger, but Teresa could see from where she lay that it was something very different. He stretched his back ready for the fight and then spotted her watching him. It wasn’t anger, fear, or bitterness. It was elation.
“It’s time...” he said.
Spartan burst from where he’d been on the ground and directly at the Thegn. As he moved, he darted fractionally from one side to the other, throwing off his position to the enemy. Closer they came, and the Thegn began a complex series of rotating actions with both arms to present a continuous threat with the super-heated mauls. Finally, he made it to within two meters of its front and lurched to the left. The Thegn spotted the movement and altered its direction just as Spartan shifted his footing and passed right by to the right. He was now alongside the thing and twisted about to grab at its arm. At the same time, he stamped into the gap behind its knee. The Thegn’s left leg buckled and it lost balance. Spartan grabbed the finger and thumb of its hand and wrenched them apart, instantly snapping bone and muscle.
“…time for you to die.”
He yanked the maul from the smashed hand and brought down its full weight into its head. It screeched in a mixture of what must have been terror and anger, but Spartan ignored the sound. He rained down one hit after another until nothing remained above the neck. He finally let the limp body drop to the ground and turned back to Teresa. She’d managed to drag herself up into a partial sitting position. He bent down and tapped the visor access button. It flipped up to reveal her face.
“Feeling better,” she coughed.
Spartan almost laughed.
“Much.”
More noise announced the arrival of numerous Thegns that pushed through the breached vessel and fanned out. They were all armed, but so far not one had fired.
“Looks like your Biomech friend screwed us over,” said Teresa.
As more moved inside, she reached out for a weapon.
“What did it mean, about your parents? I thought they died in a crash when you were a child.”
Spartan thought back and then shrugged. He had far more important things to contend with right now.
“Who knows? Last thing I remember was waking up in a hospital bed with no memory.”
It was the first time Spartan had ever mentioned anything to do with his childhood. Teresa had always avoided the subject, yet for some inexplicable reason he threw that bombshell at her.
“You remember nothing as a boy?”
Spartan shook his head while checking for a weapon.
“Nope. Just the hospital and then they moved me from place to place.”
“So how do they know you?”
Spartan found that odd, and on any other occasion, he might have wanted to examine it further. Their predicament right now took precedence, however. He looked at the Thegns and tried to decide which one he would kill first. More steps, these were louder and came from outside. He moved in front of Teresa and lifted his hands as though readying himself for a boxing match. The light from the entrance dimmed and then in came a great shape, a blood covered metal monster.
“Khan?”
“Of course.”
His friend continued forward and embraced Spartan like brothers. Finally, he broke free and beckoned to the many Thegns waiting and watching.
“What do you think of our new friends?”
Spartan looked to Teresa who smiled reassuringly.
“I say it’s time we found them something useful to do.”
He felt relaxed, but there was something she’d said about his past, and it unnerved him. Not because of what he had no memory of, but because every time he tried to think back to before the hospital, he could see nothing but blackness and a pain in his body.
What the hell is that?
* * *
General Rivers paced back and forth as the video stream footage played out once more. He’d only just arrived on board ANS Warlord, the newest warship from the Alliance shipyards. In theory, she was based heavily on ANS Dreadnought, but there was a single major difference. The hull comprised of two assembles, both fused together during initial construction to create a vessel with double the mass and capabilities. She was an Alliance Super-Battleship and the only production version of the experimental Warlord class. More were planned for the future, but with war already underway, production had shifted to the more easily produced models like the third tranche Crusaders and the Liberty class destroyers. Many more cruisers waited in orbit, as well as scores of different Liberty destroyers. It was an impressive number, made more so by their commander, Admiral Churchill. For all their numbers, it was the footage that stayed with him. He’d been watching it for almost twenty minutes now and still could not find the words to describe his outrage.
“Where the hell are they? We have a war to fight.”
It had been twenty minutes of watching and waiting until finally the virtual presence projector activated. Around him appeared the forms of Admiral Anderson, Admiral Churchill from T’Karan, and the newly elected President Harrison there on Terra Nova. A tall, commanding figure that had made it through on a platform of victory and expansion. He looked to his right where the three Chiefs of Staff sat patiently, their presence only betrayed by a slight glimmer.
“General. Thank you for convening this meeting. Please continue,” said the President.
The General nodded and then pointed into the middle of the room where a holographic model of the systems and planets of the Orion Nebula were shown. Blue shapes marked out planets, while flashing red colors indicated ongoing operations.
“Our forces have secured Alliance space. Mars and Prometheus, as you know, are back under our control. Patrols are back to normal, and the Rift Network is fully operational, but only in our territory.”
“And Orion?”
General Rivers licked his lip and considered his words.
“The Helios system is under a systematic assault by the Biomechs. The planet of Spascia is cut off and under full military blockade. They have Arks heading for Libuscha that will arrive in just over eight weeks, and another making for Micaya.”
He pointed at the center of the display where a single planet flashed continually.
“We’ve not heard from any of our people on Helios Prime for six hours now. Our fleet has withdrawn, and their Ark is conducting a continuous mass-driver bombardment of the surface. Nothing is getting on or off that planet.”
There was a long pause, mainly due to the time delay involved between all parties, but also due to the terrifying scenario they were in.
“There is always the issue of the Black Rift. It’s twenty-seven astronomical units from the Helion homeworld, just over two weeks for our conventional vessels on full burn. In the last few hours, the Helion and T’Kari task force at the
Rift has detected the approach of a substantial force.”
The President shook his head in irritation.
“Where the hell did they come from?”
General Rivers looked to Admiral Anderson.
“Some are the survivors of the fighting on Spascia. We knew some had broken away. The rest must have been dormant in the asteroid belt. All we know is that a flotilla will arrive within three days. If they succeed in disabling the defenses, then the only way to collapse the Rift will be from the Helion planetary Doomsday systems.”
Again there was a long pause. The situation was worse than the President had been expecting, that much was clear to the military commanders.
“And this situation with the Byotai and the Anicinàbe. Is that under control?”
General Rivers nodded.
“For now. There is no immediate danger in the Byotai systems, but it does mean that most of their forces are being held back to defend their fifty plus worlds.”
“Can we win?” asked the President.
General Rivers didn’t even need to think about it.
“No, Sir. We cannot. The Arks are all but impregnable to our weapons, and each one carries sufficient vessels to hold back our combined military forces. We can hold them, for weeks, perhaps months. But if we want to come out of this alive, we will need to put something else into action. Helios needs help, and soon.”
“Operation Citadel?” Admiral Churchill asked.
“That is one option, replied General Rivers, “There is also the possibility of making use of the information obtained by Spartan and Colonel Morato on Mars. They have access to…”
“No,” President Harrison said in a firm tone, “I’ve spoken with my own advisors on this one. We cannot condone involvement of Biomech forces in our long-term strategic goals. Bring them to Terra Nova as planned. They will be properly debriefed.”
Star Crusades Nexus: Book 07 - Battle for Helios Page 26
