"Very well, then. Let's light a fire. Get Olik and Tyler here . They will have to run things here till we get back. I need to leave some people behind I can trust. Between the two of them they should be able to hold back Tenskwatawa until we are ready to hit Montu.
"And us?"
Spartan grinned.
"The rest of us are heading South, and it's gonna be one hell of a fight."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Free City of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Northlands
20 October 2472
The night was a black as ever, made worse by a gentle sandstorm that had kicked up and threatened to cancel the entire operation. The tall flood lamps installed by the Byotai engineers provided only the bare minimum of light, and when Spartan looked back, he could barely see the city walls. It was almost midnight at the city, and still they were not ready to leave. Spartan and Khan waited impatiently as the last of the mercenaries filed aboard the waiting gunships.
They could have left two hours earlier, but Spartan's final demand had held up the operation, much to the chagrin of Khan. Spartan's visor was open, but like Khan, he was fully encased in armour and ready for combat. He shook his head and nodded towards the next group coming out from the city.
"That must be enough now," Khan grumbled.
Spartan let out a long sigh, like a bored, irritated child.
"How many guns do you think we'll need?"
"Lots," said Spartan.
Several motorised loaders drove past, holding dozens of weapon containers, each the size of a man. One took a corner a little too fast, and a unit slid from its position. The quick thinking of a Helion mercenary riding on the back stopped most from sliding off and hitting the ground. Even with the soldier's quick reactions, he still couldn't stop the top case hitting the ground. The impact sent up a cloud of dust, and the crew and passengers yelled to stop. Spartan waved them on.
"Keep going. We don't have time."
As they drove away, Spartan moved closer to the unit and bent down to unlatch the lid of the casing. It was tough plastic, designed with tabs holding all manner of weapons and equipment inside. As he lifted the lid and pulled aside a piece of black foam, he could see the weapons. They were jammed in tightly, the butts and muzzles resting on tabs fitted to the sides of the well-padded interior. Spartan reached inside and lifted one out. He'd already seen the manifest for every shipment going with them, and this one was no different. The side of the box was marked with an outline of short firearms. It was simple enough for even somebody with no military experience to understand.
"Carbines."
Spartan turned the weapon about in front of him and inspected the few buttons and settings fitted into its well-constructed frame. The weapon was another variant of the caseless weapons used by the New Helion Army, but shorter than usual, and lacking the complex sighting systems often prevalent on the long-barrelled rifles. As he lifted the gun to his armoured helm, he noted the Helion military symbols had been ground away, leaving nothing but rough metal in its place.
"Looks like a child's gun," grumbled Khan.
Spartan smiled as he swung it around and checked the feed block. It looked clean, and the mechanism moved smoothly. His eyes ran along the side and saw additional markings. Unusually, they were in English, and in the same style as those stamped into the housings on Alliance equipment.
"I've seen these before, back on Taxxu. A lot of these were manufactured in Alliance factories and then sent to Helion Army units. Look."
He pointed to a marking next to the weapon designation.
"Look familiar?"
Khan nodded.
"Yeah. Prometheus factories. They are ours."
Spartan turned the gun over so he could inspect the other side.
"We made this variant specifically for Helion armoured units. At least two brigades on Spascia were sent these for use by their crews."
Khan immediately spotted the shift in Spartan's voice at mentioning that distant world. It was one of the few planets colonised by the Helions, and had taken a terrible beating in the war. Worse was that it was also the world that claimed the life of his son, Jack, and his beloved wife, Teresa. Spartan's nose twitched and then his expression turned stone cold, just as though a switch had just been pulled.
"This is the VX-19S."
It sounded as though he was reading from a catalogue, but Khan knew it was nothing more than his coping mechanism. Some thought Spartan had forgotten those he'd lost, but not him. Khan had seen his friend turn to drink, women, and more. However, in the end, conflict served as the only effective antidote to his pains, and even then it was temporary, nothing more. Khan listened to his friend, but more out of sympathy than any real desire to hear the specifications read out to him.
"...the semi-automatic version of the Vorex rifle. A good weapon in the hands of a trained soldier."
He looked at the waiting spacecraft, and then to Khan who continued to watch in silence. The huge warrior appeared unmoving, until finally he relented and extended his left hand to take the weapon from Spartan. His oversized hands made him look clumsy, but he could still hold the weapon and work the bolt system, if it he could not quite get his fingers inside the curved guard section.
"I'm sure they are great weapons, but we aren't putting them in the hands of soldiers, are we?"
"No. That's true."
Spartan rubbed at his face, actually enjoying the feel of the thin coating of dust striking his skin. He'd spent so long inside armour that it was always quite pleasant to feel the wind and air against the skin.
"Come on, Khan, you've seen Lahok. He's no soldier, and he fought. Look at the video footage brought back by Tyler. That's why we sent him, to see if this plan was doable. That was weeks ago, and now we're ready."
Khan still appeared less than convinced. Spartan did his best to persuade his old friend.
"These Byotai are poorly equipped and lack any formal training, yet they've managed to kill thousands of Red Scars, and still they keep at it."
Khan muttered something intelligible.
"Look, I tell you, Khan. They've been fighting the occupation for months now, and one thing I know about that kind of fighting is that you learn fast."
"Or die," said Khan.
"True."
Khan passed the weapon back. Spartan lifted the weapon to his shoulder and pulled a gel pack from the side of the gun. It was small, rectangular, and hard to the touch. He slid the clip into the load block and pulled back the bolt. The loading mechanism split the round from the gel block and positioned it into the breech.
"There, as simple as a breech loading rifle from the twentieth century."
He lifted the weapon and pointed it off to the East. The fortified city wall to the left stuck out in the gentle cloud of dust, but Spartan's gaze was on the dirt rampart ahead of him. Now partially in ruins, the temporary defensive measure had been constructed using excavators just hours before the siege. It was beginning a second life as a firing range.
"What are you..."
The VX-19S slammed back into Spartan's shoulder as it fired. With its short barrel, the kick was much stronger than he expected. The caseless round was accurate, and he whistled upon seeing the bullet had struck a centimetre from the centre of the target. He turned it around and adjusted the single plastic gun sight. The fittings were so easy to use he could have instructed a child in its use.
Alliance standardisation has its uses.
Spartan lifted the weapon again and aimed at the target. He squeezed the trigger, and the weapon fired one shot after another in a short burst until every round was expended. He then checked the chamber and loading block was clear before slinging it over his shoulder.
"I'll take one as a back up. You never know when power cells for our gear are gonna run low. And we have a lot...and I mean a lot of clips for the Vorex rifles."
Spartan pointed as the loading vehicles finishing moving around the line of waiting Jackals. The dark grey spacecraft loo
ked black in the dust, and Spartan felt a flicker of pride in knowing he'd been involved in their design as one of the founders of the SWD.
"Khan, we're going in with less than two hundred mercs, against what? A hundred thousand Red Scars? And these are the ones still alive. The hardest, nastiest, cruellest, and most experienced of them all."
"Yeah, something like that."
"Well, we can't do this on our own, can we?"
Khan still said nothing.
"We've taken gear from what we brought with us, to the looted kit seized from the hands of the enemy during the siege of this city. We've got enough weapons here to arm an entire division of soldiers. So I'm sure they won't miss two hundred cleaned and tested weapons for our little operation."
It took a few more minutes as the loaders lifted up and deposited the additional supplies into the bellies of the Alliance gunships. Finally, they drove away, leaving the spacecraft waiting for just two more individuals.
"Spartan, they are ready, every one of them. Are you sure about the Exiles? They could boost our numbers in this fight; maybe give us an edge. You always need an edge, right?"
Even as Khan said the name, Spartan's right eye twitched. Khan hadn't noticed it before, but there was a clear reaction to either Tenskwatawa or his body of Exile soldiers. Both looked back at the entrance to the city where an entire block of the new militia now waited, with Tenskwatawa at the head of the formation. They waited there in silence. Spartan should have felt better, more confident in what he saw, but instead he found them more alien than ever before.
"Yeah, I'm sure."
He looked back to Khan.
"I need people I can trust out there. When we're outnumbered a hundred to one, would you want them backing you up?"
Khan shook his head while listening.
"And there's something about them since the siege that gives me the..."
Khan interrupted him.
"I know exactly what you mean. They look to Tenskwatawa as their leader, and nothing we say will change that now. They are indoctrinated..."
He twisted about to signal to the Jackals.
"The mercenaries are loyal to us, and the pay they've already received. The Exiles, they have a different end game. They will obey, for as long as they are authorised to do so."
The snarl was obvious, and Spartan felt that odd sensation he'd come across so many times before. Even when a lowly sergeant, he'd encountered battle after battle where incompetence or betrayal had led him and his marines astray, and right now he had that exact same feeling. Spartan's eyes narrowed, and he was forced to activate his visor to keep out the dust. He voice changed slightly as the external speakers amplified his voice.
"That's why we're going to run this operation just like that little episode with the Khreenk commandos before the war."
The corners of Khan's mouth rose as he recalled that incident, one they had kept to themselves for years.
"You think it will work?"
"Hell, yes. This is us, Khan. We will run a six-month operation in less than three weeks."
He struck Khan hard in the shoulder.
"It's not like we have much of a choice, is it?"
He paused for a second as the engines slung along each side of the six Jackals glowed bright with power. One by one they powered up their main systems, and their engines swivelled around to point down to the ground.
"We wait any longer and these reinforcements Delatorre identified will be here, and then we'll be screwed. So we do what we do best. Form a plan and do the impossible."
"Yeah," said Khan, with a mock cheer.
Spartan indicated for Khan to move towards the one designated theirs. They made it halfway before he stopped and looked back, partially shielding his eyes from the dust swirling about.
"We'll be back, Khan, and whatever happens, this city will stay free. We've sacrificed more than enough already."
* * *
ANS Titan, Aphax II Ice Field, Agriphos
The view from the bridge of the Alliance ship was a terrifying one. The three large displays splayed out at the front gave the impression of forward facing windows. Five-Seven commanded the ship from his seat a little back from that point, in a slightly raised position. However, it was the view from the observation dome in the lower left quarter that almost left Captain Delatorre paralysed with doubt. Whereas the computerised displays showed the immediate area through filters, the dome was different.
This is not good.
He sat in the motorised seating platform in the centre of the transparent dome. The unit twisted and rotated on its gimbals mount as he looked out into space, his eyes now seeing the region in its unaltered form. This part of the ship could be sealed shut in an instant and was used for observation and emergency navigation. The Thegn officer sat next to him and pointed at the object off to their left. As it spoke, he tried not to smile. The accent was thick and the language simplistic, yet precise enough to be perfectly understood.
"Asteroid on approach. Will destroy enemy ship in ten seconds."
The Thegn tapped a button, and the sphere rotated another fifteen degrees to provide them with the perfect view. For a moment he sat there with his eyes wide open. The sphere was always sealed shut when travelling through space, and he could have spent hours gazing at the stars if the asteroid field cleared enough for him to even see them.
"I see it."
There was so much debris around them he might easily have missed it, had it not been for the nearby carcass of the enemy ship. Though already crippled in the violent battle, dozens of fires still burned inside her hull as fuel, ammunition, and anything else flammable continued to help burn the ship from the inside. Every few seconds another gout of flame marked a breach before the cold vacuum of space froze that section. Captain Delatorre moved his line of sight as little to the side and caught the shape of the gigantic asteroids moving towards the stricken vessel. He almost felt sorry for them.
She won't survive the impact. Not a chance.
The single asteroid with a diameter of six thousand kilometres spun lazily towards the flank of the battered, broken ship and smashed it into fragments. So great was the closing speed that the vessel vanished in an instant, much of its superstructure becoming embedded into the chunks of rock and ice. Small chunks broke off and then it was gone, along with the rest of the deadly ice belt that circled the planet. All that remained in this sector were the smashed remains of fighters and ships, as well as the battered remnants of the asteroids. Pieces of the broken ship twisted slowly in space, occasionally striking the myriad of asteroid fragments.
"That could have been us."
He rose from his seat, and the unit rotated around so he could walk along the short gantry and to the steps back to the bridge. It was only a distance of a few metres away, but it still felt as though he'd been in an entirely different part of the ship. He kept going until reaching Five-Seven, whose eyes appeared locked onto the forward screen.
"This is not going to be easy. The field is unstable since the battle. Reduce forward speed to two-thirds and keep going. We cannot stay here unless we want to suffer their fate."
With a subtle gesture, he nodded to the former location of the ship. The vessel groaned slightly as the forward thruster fired, slowing them down.
"That's it. Good, very good. Take us through nice and slow."
Though confident of his crew after days of action, he could still not slow his pulse as they inched through the dangerous cloud of material. The violent gun battle many hours earlier had caused considerable damage to the outer armour of ANS Titan, but that was nothing compared to the damage she'd unleashed upon her pursuers. The massive warship drifted past the next large segment, slowing as it moved alongside the wrecked carcase of the Wildfire Class, Anicinàbe cruiser. She was the third vessel destroyed over the last nine hours and bore the marks of Titan's guns all along her flank. Captain Delatorre examined his handiwork with a mixture of pride and revulsion.
"Good
work, people, damned good work."
He strode about the deck with an air of confidence in what they were doing. The Anicinàbe had thrown their vanguard into the unknown, presumably looking for any lurking ships, and had paid the ultimate price. He moved in front of the bank of three screens to where a trio of Thegn officers sat at their display units. One showed a detailed schematic of the ship, along with a surprising large amount of red sections.
"What is the status of our engines?"
The engineering officer pointed to several key areas.
"Superficial damage to the power systems and life support, but the damage to the warp-ring assembly is substantial."
The image shifted to show the massive ring that ran around the stern of the ship. As it moved closer, he could see where an entire chunk of the ring was now missing.
"Until the ring is repaired, we will be unable to create a stable Alcubierre warp-ring."
Captain Delatorre rubbed his chin.
"And with no warp-ring assembly, we cannot use the interstellar drive. That means we're stuck out here and outnumbered ten to one. Maybe more."
He was speaking to himself, but the Thegn looked a little confused.
"We can still use standard engines, but not the main drive, not without destroying the ship and everything near us in a space-time distortion."
Captain Delatorre grinned. He'd heard this complaint many times before, and it was the principal argument against using the technology for vessels near Alliance colonies. The chance of creating an Anomaly that could devastate a planet meant this technology was still only usable on the frontier, or in the direst of circumstances.
There's another reason volunteers from the Alliance Naval Academy are coming up short for these ships. Nobody wants to be killed in an engine accident and sucked into oblivion by a space-time Rift!
"Is it repairable?"
The Thegn officer nodded immediately.
"Our three-dimensional fabricators are already constructing replacement parts, and they will be ready within the hour. We will need somewhere safe to wait while the drones fit the replacement parts."
Battle for Karnak (Star Crusades: Mercenaries, Book 4) Page 11
