Fall of Terra Nova
Page 34
“Damned suit!” spluttered Spartan as the main power in the suit finally gave way. He pulled the release lever, and the front of the suit split open. He stumbled out and dropped to the floor. Now pilotless, the smashed armour tipped over and lay motionless on the ground.
“Lieutenant, I might have known that your war would end this way, on your knees and on your own.” He indicated to his brothers and two of them moved forward. Both had curved swords drawn to face Spartan. They positioned themselves on either side of him, ready to deliver the coup de grâce.
“Wait!” shouted Hobbs, her face twisted with pleasure. “Let me deal with him.”
Typhon looked disappointed but indicated with his arm for her to step forward.
“Be quick, we have things to do,” he said seriously.
Hobbs moved before Spartan and threw off her cloak to reveal her Zealot armour. Like the others, it was golden in colour and made of intricate segments, all joined beautifully together. She withdrew a slender looking blade from her belt and held it low.
“Come on, Spartan, let’s finish this,” she said with a grin.
Without further warning, she leapt forward to stab at him. She was fast but also arrogant. The attack was straight and true but obvious. Spartan stayed down and waited until the last moment. A quick slip to the right and he kicked out her legs. She tipped over and tumbled down the steps. She reached the bottom where the injured Gun and the others were fighting. Gun spotted her and without even considering who she might be, slammed his blade into her chest. Spartan turned back and flashed Typhon a smile.
“Next?” he asked.
Typhon turned to his brothers. “Destroy the machine, we have no more use for it. The orders have been given and our troops are ready.”
“What about him?” asked the youngest of the men.
“Finish him off, this has gone on too long.”
The nearest of them indicated towards two of the Biomechs who stepped forward and grabbed Spartan. They pinned him to the ground so that he was forced to his knees. The Zealot lifted his sword ready to deliver the strike.
“Typhon,” came a low, rumbling voice.
Spartan looked around the room, unable to see who was speaking.
“What?” Typhon snapped back.
The strange metallic voice from the Core continued.
“You promised the League its final victory, so what are you doing? This is madness. The Biomechs are tools.”
Typhon stepped closer to the Core, speaking in angry tones.
“The League is nothing. We are the true Sons, and we will rebuild the Empire, as it should have been. Our new generation of Biomechs do not need your input. They are the new citizens of the Empire.”
Typhon turned and walked away, showing his back to the Core.
“What of the people?” it asked.
Typhon turned his head, glanced at Spartan then back to the Core.
“They can all burn.”
“You would commit genocide in our name? We can stop the Biomechs with a single signal,” roared the voice.
Typhon pulled a pistol from his belt and aimed it at the closest tank.
“Do it, and I’ll destroy this entire place. The accumulated knowledge of the greatest minds of the League will vanish, forever. All this work will be wasted.”
The Core went silent, and Typhon stood and gloated at the machine. The battle in the hall had stopped. He walked to the edge of the steps and looked down. There were just a handful of the warriors left, each of them stood close to the wounded, but still conscious Commander Gun. A large door from one of the distant alcoves opened with a groan to reveal at least fifty more Biomechs. They were all armed with firearms. They surged forward and towards the steps. Typhon turned back to the Core.
“As you can see, we have all we need.” He gave a nod to his men who stepped towards the myriad of controls on the wall.
“As you wish, we have made our decision,” said the booming voice.
Lights flashed on the computers and the tanks started to bubble furiously. A high-pitched scream pulsed from the centre as though a massive energy blast was building.
“What?” Typhon shouted.
Spartan looked up at him, but he couldn’t move. He was still held down by the two Zealots. He could see Teresa now. Misaki held her with a snub nosed pistol pushed up into her flank. A Biomech stood guard over them with its wicked looking glaive held high.
“Typhon, this all ends, today!” screamed the voice from the Core.
Then it happened. A bright ring of blue energy flashed up the tower with a crackle of static and power. As it reached the top, the water stopped bubbling and the lights on every computer system died. Cracks appeared in the glass and all around them the structure of the Core seemed to implode or fall apart as though some invisible hand had crushed the entire structure. Spartan felt the grip of the two Biomechs loosen. The nearest dropped its weapons as if something had just ordered it to stop.
‘The Core, it must have disabled the Biomechs,’ thought Spartan.
He took his chance.
“Typhon!” he screamed and lurched forward. He grabbed the dropped glaive and threw himself at the Zealot leader. Before Typhon could move, the razor sharp steel tip penetrated his chest and pushed out through his spine. The two staggered back and smashed into the water filled cylinders. The tip of the weapon must have cracked or pierced the side, as part of it broke inwards. Broken glass and water gushed out to cover them both. Spartan rolled back under the impact of the water and shook his head, trying to clear his eyes.
Screams grabbed his attention. It was the remaining Zealots. The Biomech guards turned to their masters, and each of them were stabbing or cutting them. Spartan saw one’s head cut off with a single blow. Another tried to run, but was speared in the back and fell to the ground, the weapon still stuck in his body.
“What the hell?” muttered Misaki as she watched everything falling apart around her. Teresa must have seen what was happening as she kicked the woman in the shin, and then tried to run. She lost her grip and slipped, falling awkwardly. Misaki lifted her pistol and aimed carefully at her. Spartan tried to stand, but he was unable to get a purchase on the slippery floor. He cried out, but the great hulk of Khan blocked his view. Freed by his captors, he surged forward. Two shots rang out and he smashed into her, pinning her fragile body to the wall. He slumped down to reveal the crushed and limp body of the turncoat.
Spartan slid over to the fallen Teresa and lifted her to her knees.
“Teresa!” he called out, fearful she might be hurt, or worse.
She didn’t move and all Spartan could think to do was to pull her towards him. He was dripping with water and a wound on his shoulder poured copious amount of blood onto the two of them.
“Spartan,” she whispered.
He leaned back slightly to look at her.
“I knew you’d come for me.”
* * *
The balcony at the top of the twin towers of the Palace provided an impressive view of the courtyards and of the great capital city. Dozens of fires burned around the structure as well as the heavily damaged hull of the Yorkdale.
“I thought you said you landed?” laughed Spartan.
His overalls were bloodied and soaked, but Teresa still clung to him as if she would be dragged away, if she let him go for just a second.
“Well, land is more a figure of speech,” replied Major Daniels with a smile. “Hey, at least we got her on the ground.”
From the doorway two shapes emerged, it was the battered and bloody Gun and Khan. They approached Spartan slowly, Khan taking most of the weight from Gun. They both carried patches and bandages from the dozens of wounds.
“Spartan!” Gun called out as he reached a position close enough to Spartan to grab him. Khan helped him forward and he struck Spartan in the shoulder. He nearly dropped to the ground in pain as the existing wound’s stitches split, causing more blood to rush out.
Khan stood still
and Spartan couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. Then the Jötnar grinned.
“Good fight, Spartan.”
The group moved to the edge where they were afforded a perfect view of the city.
“It’s true then, Sir, about the Core?” asked Spartan.
“Yes, Santa Cruz came through the Spacebridge ten minutes ago. The Core has shut down every single Union ship that we know of.”
“What about the Biomechs?”
“They just stopped. Look at them,” he said and pointed out to the columns of Biomechs out in the courtyards. Jötnar were escorting them to designated areas where they dumped their weapons and armour.
“What will happen to them?” asked Spartan.
Gun placed his hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help find a use for them.”
A roar from above them signalled the arrival of the first shuttles. A group of four flew towards the courtyard. Two Lightning Fighters escorted each. Another group blasted by and performed a lazy victory role over the Palace. Spartan spotted the Angel symbol on their wings, presumably the mark of their squadron.
“So what happens now?” he asked.
Major Daniels turned to him and extended his hand.
“Well, I think you both have earned a reprieve on that conscription contract. Unless you both want to stay on?”
Spartan turned to Teresa who threw him a curious smile.
“We’ll think about it.”
Major Daniels put his arms around them both.
“Well, right now I have to get birds sent out to pickup any survivors from the Crusader. There’s never a moment’s peace. I suggest in the meantime the four of you get some rest.”
He turned from the balcony and left the two humans and two Jötnar to watch the arrival of yet more marines. Spartan turned to the three of them.
“You know something? This is the first time I’ve not heard gunfire in the last twenty-four hours. I must have concussion. Come on, let’s go.”
Teresa and Spartan moved to the left of Gun and helped Khan move him from the balcony and into the dark archway. They moved inside and back into the Palace. Spartan turned back for the last time to see the lifeboats from the battle in orbit dropping through the atmosphere likes meteors.
“This is it, then?” he said quietly to himself.
THE END
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN