Star Crusades Uprising: The First Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

  Spartan dragged the still gasping Vespis behind him as he moved towards the fallen Biomech. Around it stood the other two monsters as well as the three guards. The man that seemed to be the leader stepped forward and looked towards Spartan first.

  “You can’t be Confed military, you move like a pit fighter. What’s your name?”

  Spartan tilted his head slightly, surprised at the man’s comments.

  “Spartan.”

  “Ah, the hero of New Carlos. I’ve heard of you. Didn’t you used to fight in the circuit here?”

  “How the hell do you know him?” demanded a less than impressed Marcus.

  “I don’t know him, I’ve heard of him,” he said before turning back to General Rivers.

  “General, we received word almost a month ago they were sending you here. We’ve been getting ready for six months to get out of this place. We have vital intelligence for the Fleet.”

  “Fleet? Who the hell are you, son?”

  “It doesn’t matter, you can call me Tigris. I’ve been working undercover here since our patrol was captured. We don’t have long, are you in, General?”

  “We know nothing about you, how can we trust you?”

  Vespis started to struggle and Spartan tensed his forearm to pin the man in place as the colour started to drain from his face.

  “Look, Sir, I want to get out of here just as much as you do but first we have to shut this place down. You cannot believe what is happening here.”

  “Why don’t you tell us?” suggested Spartan.

  The man turned his head in disagreement. “No, no good. You need to see it for yourselves, come on, we need to go.”

  Spartan shouted to him. “Wait. How can we get out? What about the security system and the guards?”

  “We aren’t getting out of here, not yet anyway. We can get somewhere safe though and do some damage at the same time,” said Tigris.

  Spartan looked to General Rivers and Marcus to gauge their thoughts. None of them was particularly happy at the situation but it was better than sitting in the cells waiting to die. General Rivers gave him the nod and then turned to Marcus to whisper something. Spartan looked back to their new allies.

  “What about them?” he asked Spartan, pointing to the two Biomechs, as he did they turned and look directly back at him. The nearest turned his head slightly so that one eye stared directly at Spartan’s face.

  “What about us?” said the creature is a low, growling voice.

  Spartan jumped back in surprise and then looked to his right where Marcus and now Misaki stood. They looked equally confused.

  “Yeah, good question!” replied Marcus in an almost drunken tone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The use of kinetic weapons so far after their original development has often been considered one of the failings of the Confederate science programmes. Direct energy weapons systems such as particle beans, plasma weapons and lasers have been in development since the early twentieth century. The greatest obstacles to their widespread use was blooming, high power consumption, beam absorption and the lack of an indirect fire capability.

  Experiments with Rayguns

  “We have to move now!” shouted Spartan as he helped Rivers drag the wounded guards from the previous firefight into cover along the wall.

  Spartan looked back to the large metal doorway about twenty metres away from their position. It was still wide open and on the one side the automated weapon turret sat idly with its glowing eye watching the group. Each of them was careful to not get too close to its cone of fire as like the other weapon systems, its job was to ensure no unauthorised personnel crossed its area of control. On the floor were a series of markings that designated areas that were safe and those watched by the weapon system. There was no way through the door without moving in front of its barrels.

  The General himself had already taken a grazing wound to his leg in the firefight. It had been bloody but a quick bandage was all they had time for right now and the injury looked far from critical. As they moved Spartan spotted a Zealot guard taking aim at them. He instinctively pushed the General out of the way and dropped to one knee. As he did he lifted his rifle and fired two aimed shots, both striking the man in the head and neck, forcing him to the floor in agony. Picking himself up he moved back over to the General and continued to help move the injured man.

  “Marcus, covering fire, we need to move back!” he shouted.

  Tigris meanwhile had managed to sneak up to the control panel and had found the only piece of cover behind the console itself. He was still trying to seal the entry door as Spartan and Marcus fired rapid shots in the direction of the recently arrived reinforcements. As he pressed various buttons, the eye and its attached weapon system panned back and forth as it checked for signs of intruders. They’d already held off one wave in a cunning ambush but their numbers were now starting to tell as more and more of them arrived. It couldn’t be long before the Biomechs joined them and then it would be over. Tigris kept hitting a series of buttons but he was getting nowhere. The low pitch tones indicated the system wasn’t going to authorise him.

  “It’s no good, if we can’t seal the door we might as well stop now. They will just cut the fans and in a few hours we’ll all be dead,” said the General as he kept his head down along the sidewall. Each of them was now carrying at least one weapon conveniently taken from the recently killed reinforcements.

  Another dozen guards appeared and two of them threw in small metal canisters that clattered around the floor.

  “Flash bangs!” shouted Marcus who ducked back.

  The rest hadn’t time to move and the whole area vanished in a bright white light that rendered them stunned and unable to focus properly. Spartan landed on his back but already he was trying get up up when he spotted the enemy rushing inside. Summoning all the strength he could find he forced himself back up to one knee and lifted his rifle. His eyesight was blurred and his hearing almost non-existent but that didn’t stop him from pulling the trigger. It looked like slow motion as the gun jumped and rattled as each round burst from the barrel. The enemy, surprised by the return fire, ducked down and unleashed a devastating amount of fire that forced Spartan to the ground. He rolled over to the left and behind a metal bulkhead off to the side. The enemy must have thought they had killed most of the defenders as they rushed inside the doorway to within just a metre of Spartan. As they moved past he looked over and noticed the General and Marcus were starting to come to, but if he just waited there they would be overrun before they were able to get back into the fight. There was no sign of Tigris and he could only assume he had been killed as the men arrived. Mustering all his strength he pushed himself up.

  “Arrgh!” shouted Spartan as he jumped up and hurled himself at the first Zealot guard. The two staggered out into the open but incredibly they managed to stay upright. The others turned in surprise but didn’t shoot for fear of striking the guard. Spartan slammed the base of the pistol grip into the man’s head and then spun around to fire three bursts into the other men. Two fell to the ground dead but a third managed to avoid being hit and moved ahead to Marcus and Misaki who were still rolling about on the ground. The Zealot stopped and aimed at Misaki’s head pulling the trigger but it was too late. One of the Biomechs jumped in the way and took the impact in its chest. It was knocked back a short distance and then aimed its multi-barrelled cannon at the man.

  “Die!” it howled in a monstrous roar and fired a long, savage burst of heavy metal slugs that literally shredded the man before their eyes. Several more Zealots crossed the doorway but were easily cut down by the creature.

  Spartan turned back to the man he’d struck who was still moving on the floor. Taking careful aim he fired a single shot into the man’s temple, not even hesitating to use his weapon.

  “Come on, we can’t hold this place forever!” he shouted.

  Tigris appeared from behind one of the dead Zealots, somehow he must have ducked away after falling in t
he skirmish and managed to avoid being hit. He jumped up to the panel and hit a series of buttons.

  “No, no way…just give me a…” said Tigris as a high pitch sound emanated from the panel to be followed by the door closing rapidly. As the door shut the lights on the automated weapon systems changed to green.

  “Are they off?” asked a surprised Spartan as he pointed at the weapon system.

  Tigris nodded.

  “How did you know how to do that?”

  “A long story, trust me, we don’t have time for it, not yet.” He moved away from the panel and back to the waiting group of prisoners and guards.

  “How long will it hold?”

  “The system will rearm in ten minutes providing the correct key is entered and trust me, they have it. This is the only way in from the barracks, we have a really small window if we’re going to take it, Spartan.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “We can take the transit corridor to the security room and command centre. If we take that we can access the entire compound’s security systems, release the captured ships, the cells and the prisoners. If we’re smart we can maybe cause some trouble at the shipyards on our way out.”

  “Shipyards?” demanded Spartan.

  “Like I said, we don’t have much time, we should go,” said Tigris as he made to move.

  “No way, why should we trust you? You’ve already changed sides, why won’t you do it again?”

  “Changed sides? I never changed, some of us had to do this to maintain our cover until somebody like you guys came along. Look, you can fly right? And handle a gun? We can’t get off this rock without you. Hell, I doubt we’d even be able to breach the security station,” he said with an almost pleading expression.

  “What about the rest of the prisoners? We can’t leave them all behind.”

  “We won’t, but first we have to get to the security room. It’s been tried twice before and both times the time sealed locks on the doors opened thirty minutes after an emergency had been declared.”

  “An emergency?” laughed Marcus.

  “Yeah, I think this probably counts!” added Spartan who was double-checking the magazines he’d taken from the bodies. “I take it when the doors open we’ll have everybody here?”

  “Yep, and when they get in they won’t just punish us, it will be the end for everybody in the cells. They have itchy trigger fingers and aren’t afraid to use them. Last time this happened they murdered nearly a thousand people. Most of them forced out on the surface.”

  “How will we get through the doors to the command room?” asked Spartan.

  “Simple,” replied Tigris with a hint of a smile. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his security card. “This little guy will give us access to the security and command rooms, nothing more and nothing less.”

  General Rivers moved closer and examined the card before nodding in agreement.

  “That’s all we’re going to need. We get to the command centre, open all the weapons stores and release the prisoners.”

  “Agreed, Sir, come on!” said Tigris as he moved away from the door and rushed along the side of the open space towards one of the armoured and still closed doorways.

  “Release them? They’ll be massacred!” cried Misaki who until now had stayed silent. She tried to hold Spartan back as he moved past her. He stopped for a moment, looking hard at her.

  A small number of no more than a handful of the prisoners from the red group were still out of their cells and they were already picking up what weapons remained from the battle. One of the men, a gruff looking man in his fifties approached and looked up and down at Spartan.

  “What about the rest of them, you’re just leaving them here?”

  “No, once we have access to the command centre we’ll release them. For those that want to fight there’ll be weapons, don’t worry about that. We need you and anybody else you can find to set up defensive positions in this area until we can get access to the locks for the cells.” He placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “If we don’t get back in time we’ll need you to hold them off until we can return with more weapons and help free the prisoners.”

  “I’ll stay with them,” said General Rivers, “ they need someone with experience to hold this place. It’s big but there’s plenty of cover. If we do it right we could hold back an entire company.”

  Spartan looked at him but he was less than convinced at the prisoners’ ability to defend the place. It didn’t matter though as they had little choice. He turned to Misaki.

  “Look, Misaki, in the end they are all dead if we don’t find a way to escape.”

  “You’re damn right,” said the old man as he held his captured shotgun in the air. The man turned and rushed back to the others as he explained the situation. Three of them were already dragging the bodies of those killed to the side of the space for extra cover. Spartan turned back to Misaki.

  “It’s better for them to die on their feet fighting than on their knees. Come on, we need your help as well!” said Spartan as turned and continued chasing Tigris. Misaki followed close behind.

  * * *

  Admiral Jarvis stood in the armoured bridge of the heavy cruiser CCS Furious and watched her small armada make slow but steady progress towards its rendezvous with the rest of the Fleet at Khimaira. It had taken some time to finally get this group ready for action. It was only by pressing many of the survivors of the destroyed cruisers at Kronus to serve on the warships, that enough crew had been found to man the vessels. Even so the ships were operating understrength but right now she needed as many major vessels in service as possible. Then of course there was also the problem of abandoned ships that could be used by the enemy. One damaged cruiser had been scuttled at Kerberos already due to lack of resources and to deny her to the enemy. Her armaments and supplies had been split amongst the rest of the ships. The Furious Battlegroup might be at half its normal strength but with four operational ships it would be able to provide a complete and effective combat division for the Fleet.

  From the view screen placed inside the bridge she was able to watch a magnified view showing the other ships close enough that she could count the antenna and weapon ports running down the flanks of the massive vessels. None of the ships were in brilliant condition and each was marked and scorched from where they had been sitting for three years in dry dock. They were all Achilles class cruisers, warships designed as flexible ships that could operate independently or as part of a larger group. They were armed in much the same fashion as other Confed capital ships with electromagnetic railguns as the primary weapons. The hulls were littered with point defence turrets and each was capable of carrying a number of shuttles or landing craft. Though unable to deal with something like a battleship they were easily capable of taking on multiple destroyers and frigates or dozens of smaller vessels. The Furious was something else though. As a heavy cruiser she was a modified and heavily improved Achilles class with additional armour, larger power plant and more powerful weapons. She lacked bays for shuttles to make room for extra armour and gunports making her doubly effective as a weapons platform or command and control ship. She was second only to the handful of battleships and battlecruisers in the sector.

  The small task force’s destination was the carrier CCS Wasp that waited for the arrival of the Admiral along with a slowly growing number of ships. Since her last visit to Khimaira a month ago the flotilla had increased to double its size and every day more personnel arrived to join the fight. The planet and its orbiting stations had become a kind of rallying point for any forces or vessels sympathetic to the Confederacy.

  The communications officer turned in her seat and looked over to the Admiral who was still busy gazing at the assembled ships.

  “Admiral, Bellerophon, Patroclus and Perseus report their weapon systems are ready for gunnery trials.”

  She continued looking out at the ships. Most of the main guns on the cruisers were concealed behind s
ealed gunports. The design was partially to protect the vulnerable parts of the weapon systems but also to also reduce the warlike look of the vessels when around friendly vessels. It was well known that Perseus had never fired her guns in anger though she doubted that was a condition that was likely to remain for long. Few in the Fleet had managed that luxury in the last months. She barely registered the comments from her officer until noticing her waiting.

  “Tell them, good work, they may conduct their drills when ready. I want a full test and evaluation of the sanlav rounds in the cruiser weapons. I expect a full debriefing within the hour,” she demanded and then turned to her navigator.

  “How long until we reach the Fleet?”

  “Twenty-nine hours until Khimaira, Admiral, I’ve already received word that two more cutters have managed to escape from Orthrus and are due to arrive several hours before us.”

  “Excellent news, they should have intelligence on the enemies’ deployment in that System. Perhaps things are starting to look up for us. At some point the people in the rebel colonies are going to realise they have turned from a fair and equitable system to one of servitude,” she said to those on the bridge, though to herself she worried that many might not live to experience the revelation.

  “Admiral, we have just received a bounced signal from the Fleet, it is marked for your eyes only from Captain Hardy.”

  “Put it through to my datapad, Lieutenant.”

  Admiral Jarvis lifted the device from her belt and waited a few seconds before the encrypted message arrived from her communications officer. It was unusual to receive a message this way she thought. It must be important for it not to go to the commander of the Battlegroup but directly to her. After entering her access codes she accessed the video message. When the access screen slipped away it revealed the face of Captain Hardy.

  “Admiral, I have just received an encrypted emergency communication from vessels purporting to be from the Seventh Fleet. The transmission was encrypted but sent to High Command, it contains distress codes and a full log of their transit to our System over the last month.”