Battle for Karnak (Star Crusades: Mercenaries, Book 4)

by Thomas, Michael G.

  "Spartan, news from Sergeant Tyler."

  He turned to his left and smiled as the lumbering figure of Khan approached. He was a monster compared to Spartan. At twice his size and bulk, he looked like a troll, and with his armour partially fitted, even chunkier. He kept walking until reaching his friend and then turned to also face the South.

  "His team will be back from the Depression within the hour, and it's true. He has brought a survivor from the city."

  Spartan nodded in agreement.

  "Yeah, I heard. Syala and her team hit trouble on recce near Caldos, but they got out intact. It looks like Tenskwatawa was right again. Nakoma is reinforcing her position in the Khagi region. If I had to guess, I'd say she hunkering down."

  Khan nodded, though it didn't look like he was especially pleased with the news. Like Spartan, he was not entirely happy with the changes taking place in Melantias. The old Byotai regime appeared to have vanished, to be replaced by new, younger characters; many of which originated from the group of Exiles they brought with them, or from the younger settlers and miscontents that had fled to the city. Khan kept nodding slowly as he considered Spartan’s words. At the same time, his right hand fidgeted on an unusual blade resting in a metal loop at his side. It looked handmade, very much like the gear the Blood Pack had been using.

  "Maybe, Spartan, maybe. If they have doubts about their position, it would be in their interest to stall for time. Every day we take settlements and outposts, and we become stronger for it."

  "True, but with each gain we are forced to spread our forces. Even with all our remaining Mercs, we are specks of sand compared to the two sides in this fight. In the end, this has to be fought and won by the Byotai or the clan warriors of Nakoma. We can only try and help focus their efforts in the right direction."

  "A speck? I don't think anybody would ever call us a speck."

  Spartan laughed, that loud, roaring laugh he held back for when he was around his closest and most treasured companions.

  "Okay, maybe an angry speck, with a serious attitude problem. A very serious attitude problem."

  "Better."

  The two waited there in silence, watching the daily routine through the city. Both seemed most interested in the small unit of armed guards walking along the lower perimeter. They were only a hundred or so metres away from the wall, but close enough they could retreat inside in a matter of seconds, if needed.

  "Don't you think it's strange he just appears out of nowhere? I don't like the way he's treated by some of the Byotai, and especially those Exiles."

  Spartan's forehead tightened as he listened.

  "He? You mean Tenskwatawa?"

  Khan grunted at hearing the name. Spartan knew that look right away, and the strange thing was that he felt the same. Tenskwatawa had come to them, after having been dug up by the CTC Corporation in some secret deal. The whole thing stank, but one thing they all knew was this stranger had united the more troublesome of the settlers, and even those of the Anicinàbe.

  "They act like he's some kind of...well..."

  "A messiah?"

  They looked to the left as the pale-skinned Anicinàbe appeared on the wall. She made no sound as she moved along the damaged wall and towards the two seasoned warriors. Kanjana was one of the few pure-blooded of her people inside the city, and a woman with skills beyond either of them. What she lacked in humour and physical strength, she made up for with a mind bordering on the level of a quantum computer. Kanjana had already proven herself on multiple occasions, yet she was still treated with disdain. Her background linked her inextricably with Spartan, and his work in creating the still relatively new IAB. Her role on Karnak had been one of an advisor, and more recently as a liaison between Tenskwatawa and Spartan and his mercenaries.

  "Yes," said Khan.

  Spartan looked at Kanjana with the same fascination he always did. She was undoubtedly attractive, with her lithe, almost anorexic looking body that was so common among her people. Her tiny muscles and lightweight bones pushed against her partially translucent skin, giving her an almost ethereal quality. Even so, she was still incredibly thin, even for an Anicinàbe, something the flowing robes could not disguise. Her skin and hair were pale white, bordering on the same semi-translucent style as her skin, giving something of an exotic quality about her.

  Spartan chuckled to himself but remained careful to avoid letting his friend see him. Decades ago, Khan and his kin had been monsters, bereft of complex language or civility. Now they were as complicated and sociable as any people he'd met. As Spartan watched him, he was reminded of how he generally preferred their company to that of his own. Kanjana continued speaking, her gentle accent barely betraying her alien origin.

  "It is true. Tenskwatawa has taken on this role, though if you'd asked me a year ago, I would never have heard of him. His origins are unknown to me, or to any of the public records. The Exiles are a well-known phenomenon, and there are reports of entire tribes of Byotai, Anicinàbe, and other half-breeds scattered amongst moons, abandoned space stations, and even nomadic fleets. Even so..."

  Spartan listened. Her English was too perfect, as though she'd rehearsed it before coming along. It was so clear it might just as easily have been one of his own team that had recorded it, yet there were a few minor inflections that Spartan could pick out.

  "He may be unknown to us, but his name is ancient among both peoples, them and mine."

  Spartan twisted his head and gave her an odd look.

  "Ancient, how so?"

  "Tenskwatawa is an ancient name from old history, in the time before the Anicinàbe clans, or even the settlements of the Byotai. Back then, we referred to a common heritage and a shared history between the many races of this great region of space."

  Spartan looked to Khan, but his face was impassive, almost bored.

  "That was the golden age, the time of the ancient Star Empire."

  Khan snorted at hearing this. It wasn't a snort of derision, and that was usually the warrior’s response. Spartan straightened up a little at the sound. He made the noise when he was startled or surprised, and that happened rarely.

  "Star Empire? I've heard Tenskwatawa talking about this before. Was it real?"

  Kanjana shook her head as she mentioned this old story.

  "We do not know. I suspect it is like your own myths, but it does describe a utopia where all work for a common good. It is not given much attention anymore."

  "Hmm," said Spartan, "I've heard that kind of language before."

  Khan nodded to the open plains to the South.

  "You still think this plan will work?"

  Spartan nodded slowly.

  "Yeah, it will work. Providing we can get things moving in the Depression."

  A dull tone pulsed in Spartan's ear, and he tapped the unit to activate it. His standard communications gear was built into his armour, but like his weapons, Spartan never left without it. He listened for almost a minute and suddenly turned to Khan.

  "Okay, that is interesting. Very interesting."

  Khan's left eyebrow lifted.

  "Yes?"

  "A message from Captain Delatorre aboard ANS Titan. He's picked up the scent of the Anicinàbe. He estimates closer to fifty ships, with many transports. They are broadcasting distress signals and say they are migrants from the fighting in the territories."

  Kanjana moved closer, intrigued by this news.

  "It's possible. Since the upheaval, a good number of the old tribes are on the move."

  Khan was little interested in the background of the Anicinàbe and snarled as he listened to her assessment.

  "Migrants with weapons can attack us just the same as clan ships filled with warriors." He shook his head with irritation, "Migrants is just a word for people travelling from place to place."

  He then pointed to Kanjana who looked somewhat confused at his attitude. Khan and his kind were unlike anything she'd encountered before, and though she’d met him hundreds and hundreds of ti
mes, she still found it hard to truly understand the way he spoke. Most assumed the synthetic warriors were simplistic, interested only in heavy engineering and war, but with every conversation she found a depth and calmness unlike any other species. This time Khan growled, baring his lower teeth.

  "All we need to know, Kanjana, is how far away are they, and where are they going?"

  She smiled politely at him even though his grimace didn't change.

  "Their ships are already in this quadrant and assembling over Agriphos. Delatorre estimates they will be ready to leave in the next twenty-four hours, and some are already on the way."

  Khan grunted again.

  "Of course they are already on the way. Where are they going?"

  Spartan smiled, that old grin Khan knew only so well.

  "This way, to Karnak, and they are three weeks away. There's more, old friend. It looks like their vanguard has already engaged the Captain. Migrants or not, they are ready and willing to use force to go wherever they choose."

  Khan lifted both of his eyebrows as he absorbed that piece of information. It didn't surprise him, but it was still interesting to hear.

  "Okay, then. So if Delatorre is correct, we can expect substantial numbers of Anicinàbe clan members by the last week of this month, right?"

  Spartan nodded.

  "Exactly, and I'll tell you this straight, both of you. This is no accident."

  He then pointed off to the South.

  "Nakoma knows they are coming, I promise you that. She is consolidating her position and waiting for this help. It could easily be the rest of the Spires coming to her aid."

  Kanjana shook her head.

  "They could also just be migrants, escaping the war."

  Spartan laughed and placed a hand on her forearm. It was a gentle gesture, something he rarely did. Kanjana was the closest thing he had to a daughter now, and after a decade of working together, they'd formed a close bond.

  "This is us, Kanjana; the unluckiest group of people in the galaxy. If we have a few hundred thousand on the way, I can personally guarantee they will be the angriest and most violent in the region."

  Khan joined in with his laughter.

  "Spartan is right. Nobody attracts trouble like him. If it were anybody else, it would be volunteers bringing us fresh food and weapons. These will be clan warriors, and when they arrive, they'll be coming here to end this fight once and for all."

  The pale Anicinàbe woman looked away from them both, hiding the thin tears that ran slowly from her eyes.

  * * *

  The spacecraft shook gently as the engines altered their thrust vector. With no wings of note, the machine used its engines for both lift and thrust. The sound of the powerful thrusters was so great it was easily audible inside the thick armour of its hull. He found the vessel a fascinating machine. It was beautifully constructed, with not a seam showing anywhere in its design. The seating was ample, yet no space was wasted. More interestingly, several designated zones in the centre intrigued him. They were circular in shape, and though recessed, he could see they were a dark brown colour, perhaps black.

  What are they, pods or sealed housings for something?

  He closed his eyes again and let his body drift into sleep. The hum of the engines, and the sound of chatting Humans were still unable to keep him from rest. For the first time in months he felt safe, and no longer needed to keep one eye open in case a Red Scar assassin was about to leap out and cut his throat. He smiled and let out a long, relaxing sigh.

  "We're coming in to land."

  The voice sounded strange, and as Lahok opened his eyes once more, he thought he was back in the city, surrounded by the dead. In just a few seconds, he knew he was wrong. He was still inside the spacecraft, protected by its own armour and the cargo of heavily armed Humans.

  Am I their friend or foe?

  Lahok still knew little about them, even after hours of flight among them. They'd engaged in small talk, but Sergeant Tyler was always very careful when talking about himself or his comrades. He immediately wondered how much longer their journey would be. He'd slept multiple times, but something always managed to wake him from his slumber. The last time when they'd landed briefly at a location near many massive rocks to take on the rest of a squad. He noticed the Sergeant staring right back.

  How long has he been doing that?

  Lahok had been fast asleep, dreaming of little and nothing as they travelled the thousands of miles from the cities in the South, past the mountainous region of Khagi, and then onwards into the unknown. He noticed the other Human warriors, though they appeared to show him little, if any attention. All were armed and equipped in similar manner as the Sergeant, though their gear lacked some of the embellishments his equipment had. As he looked at them, the words of the Sergeant returned to his mind.

  "Land?"

  The Sergeant finished speaking to a comrade before looking back at him.

  "Yes. Land. Like I promised you, we'll be at Melantias shortly. Look."

  He nodded to the front of the craft where an artificial display wall gave the impression the front of the craft was missing. Lahok seemed confused.

  "I...where are we?"

  Sergeant Tyler pointed to the horizon.

  "Right now we're still flying over the Northlands and at low altitude. It's the only way to avoid Nakoma's microwave radar systems, but right there, on the horizon. That...my friend...is the area called the Stone Teeth, and in the middle of them..."

  "Melantias," finished Lahok.

  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he was sure he could make out the subtle changes on the horizon. It was made more difficult by the buffeting inside the spacecraft. As the seconds and then minutes drifted by, the Stone Teeth increased in size until finally he could see the tall columns of smoke rising from the dozens of mining and industrial operations. Far below them moved groups of civilian vehicles, and he recognized many as engineering machines.

  "Hold on."

  A warning light flashed, and one by one the Humans moved to their harnesses. Lahok, now intimately familiar with his, activated the unit and instantly felt the reassuring tug. They dropped down from their previous altitude and followed a circling path until finally moving towards the city from the South.

  "The walls, they are gigantic."

  At first, they appeared modest, but once within a hundred metres, the vast scope became clear. In front of them were multiple escarpments, with at least two around huge cleared landing areas. On one sat a transport shuttle of an unknown type, while the other one remained completely clear. The engines thundered as they rotated on their mounts, and then as quickly as it had started, they were on solid ground. The doors on both sides hissed open, and there before him was the fabled city. He moved out of the door and lifted his hands to his eyes. The bright light caught him by surprise, especially the glint from the nanocrystal-hardened walls.

  So, it is true. The walls really are the wealth of the city.

  To Lahok's amazement, he found multiple military units near the walls. The first group was platoon strength and consisted of many citizens, wearing equipment that looked suspiciously like Helion armour. They marched in time and carried a mixture of long rifles at their shoulders. Their helmets and body armour were dull iron in colour, and though similar in coloration and age, each was slightly different to the next.

  It's like their armour came from a hundred different battlefields.

  Sergeant Tyler stayed close to his side as the rest of the Humans filed out. He noted the Byotai was fascinated by what he could see, especially when some moved past with their visors open, or robes pulled aside so they could make out the faces. First to pass was a middle-aged Byotai female, and as Lahok bowed, he spotted the next one, an Anicinàbe male! Instinct took a hold, and he moved, but the Sergeant grabbed him quickly, stopping him from making a fatal mistake.

  "These are the Exiles, Anicinàbe, and Byotai settlers that have returned here for a better life. Without
them, the city would have fallen in the siege."

  Lahok shook his head and watched, as they filed past. He then looked back at the walls, and only now did he see the damage. Work teams laboured away, but for all their efforts, they could not hide the burn makes, scratches, and other scars of war. Lahok licked his lower lip until it began to lose colour.

  "Sergeant. What happened here? Another raid?"

  The Human warrior took a moment for his translators to do the job. Then his eyes opened wide in surprise.

  "You didn't hear about this battle?"

  Lahok shook his head, and the Sergeant laughed. It was not a hysterical laugh of pleasure or amusement, but a slow, almost irritated sound.

  "Lahok. Weeks ago the Anicinàbe hit us with four complete clans. They used vehicles, war machines, aircraft, and creatures in a full-scale assault. Thousands were killed, and her forces shattered at the very breaches."

  His arm pointed off to a point where several scaffoldings covered part of the defences.

  "Their siege guns brought down a large part of the wall, and they pushed in hard. We nearly lost the city in that fight, but it came to our mercenaries and the Exiles to finally drive them back."

  He placed a hand on Lahok's shoulder.

  "Byotai, Anicinàbe, Human, and others worked together in that battle. It's what can happen, if we want it to."

  With his right hand, he pointed to the distant shape of the Exiles as they continued their march.

  "They formed the core of the reorganised Northern military forces. With volunteers they raised ten new battalions, all armed and equipped with gear taken from the defeated Anicinàbe."

  They continued until finally reaching the wall. There was a single massive door, but it was sealed shut. Sergeant Tyler directed him towards a much smaller one at the base of one of the many towers. Just before he moved inside, he stepped out of line and ran his hand along the smooth, varnished surface of the city walls. He'd never touched the paste before, and as his fingers made contact with the material, his entire body shuddered.