As one of the more experienced warriors, he tended to say little unless it was important. Like many of the old warriors, he bore the scars of countless previous battles. The most prominent injury was his left arm, where it had been restored from the elbow down with a fully artificial replacement. He blasted another vehicle and then turned to Wictred.
"They are just harassing us. Something else is coming."
One of the Jötnar lifted his two-handed club and moved to the edge, ready to leap down. Olas grabbed him with his right arm.
"No, stay inside. They are trying to draw us out."
Wictred nodded in agreement.
"We do not leave the convoy unless we..."
"Aircraft!" shouted one of the mercenary Humans.
The man took aim and blasted the sky even though he could see nothing, just hearing the sound of engines. Without air cover or adequate scouting, they had little chance of detecting the lead aircraft. Wictred activated his communications unit and was answered by an angry sounding Kras.
"Wictred. Take your guard and fight. This is not the time for talk. It is time for action!"
Wictred ignored his whining and pointed off to the sky.
"Kras. We're surrounded, and the enemy have incoming aircraft. Activate the missiles and dig in."
An angry voice answered him, and then he found himself disconnected before he could say anymore. Skarn saw his expression and laughed.
"You've pissed him off now."
Wictred lowered his weapon and ignored the sounds of incoming fire to look to the skyline. The scanning equipment was only fitted to the larger vehicles, so he was forced to use his eyes and the modest passive sensors fitted to his armour.
"Yeah, Kras is proving to be a major liability."
Three of them were now watching the skies, but Wictred spotted the aircraft first. His keen eyes saw the dots as they passed the one kilometre mark, and a full second later his sensor suite detected their heavily masked shapes.
Aircraft, this is not good. Kras has led us into a trap.
They were coming in low and fast; leaving a dust cloud that chased them almost as quickly. The pilots brought them in below a hundred metres, a distance requiring a combination of extreme skill and computer assistance. Horns blasted out through the convoy, giving the impression of a caravan travelling the deserts of ancient Earth.
"It's a trap! Keep your heads down," said Wictred.
The Jötnar moved as one just as the front pair of aircraft opened fire with cannons. Some of the other mercenaries did the same and were rewarded with their lives for a little longer. The small calibre weapons bounced off the layered armour of the crawlers, but easily penetrated the upper bodies of the three Human mercenaries that chose to stand upright and ignore Wictred. One was decapitated, and his mutilated form dropped down next to Skarn.
"So, now he listens."
Three of the Jötnar chuckled at his morbid humour while the clatter of gunfire continued. The entire convoy was now awash with the sound of guns from the passengers opening up with everything they had. The speed of the Hornets made it all but impossible to hit them without tracking systems or missiles.
"They hit us with ground forces to pin us down," said Wictred.
He then lifted his eyes to look up at the smoke trails from the Hornets.
"And now the aircraft will finish the job. We should have sent scouts ahead and positioned sentries on the high ground."
Skarn nodded grimly.
"We all know, Wictred. You told Kras time and time again. Now he will get us all killed."
The four Hornets rushed over the convoy just as the first volley of missiles rose up to meet them. The Jötnar opened fire at the lead aircraft, but not even they were able to hit the craft as it jinked from side to side.
The pilots were clearly highly experienced and very familiar with the weapon systems used by the Byotai. Seven missiles reached up from the vehicles. Four were quickly lost as they struck the small hills and mounds of rock. The final three disappeared from view, all of them in pursuit of a single Hornet. A Byotai yelled from the last segment of the land train just as a laser-guided bomb came down and hit the thin armour from above. The Byotai soldier was thrown clear as the entire segment of the land train exploded.
"Everybody out, now!" Wictred shouted.
He hadn't seen what had released the bomb, but he was certain there was something else out there other than just the Hornets.
"Move it!"
Wictred was first out, leaping from the top of the crawler and hitting the dusty ground. Skarn was next, and then came the rest of the unit. Small numbers of Byotai dashed about in the open, but most had elected to remain inside their up-armoured civilian vehicles. Wictred activated his personal communications on the command network. He changed it to the public channel so that all ranks would hear him.
"This is Wictred. Disperse now. This is an ambush, and we have been targeted for bombing."
A trio of delta-shaped aircraft flew overhead. They were much larger than the Hornets and moving in a slow circle around convoy. Small hatches opened up, and a bewildering array of guns and rocket systems activated from two of them. The third displayed a cavernous bomb bay and was already releasing dozens of small, guided weapons.
Wictred ran twenty metres and threw himself behind the long line of jagged rocks that provided a degree of protection. Then came the first volley, and the damage to the convoy was devastating. Skarn slid alongside him, and the others scattered, finding cover in the rocks where they could.
"The fools. This is not the way I planned on dying."
Wictred nodded quickly and then checked his weapons.
"I can't argue with you there, brother."
The bombs struck the convoy over a period of little more than three seconds, ripping apart their targets with ease. The screams of the dying followed the booms of the bombs and the clatter of gunfire. Skarn peeked around his rock and watched multiple scout vehicles racing around the burning convoy, shooting at any individuals they found. He then attached a new magazine to his weapon and took a step out of cover.
"No, not yet," said Wictred, "Look."
Above them were two Hornets, but they were no longer swooping about. The missile systems in the convoy had been eliminated in mere seconds, and now they hovered about, looking near the burning crawler so recently vacated by the Jötnar.
Off to the right one of the aircraft was so low so it was barely fifty metres from the ground. Lines launched out from the flanks and were released by powerful harpoon lines. Some hit the soft dirt and buried deep underground; others struck rock and embedded their hardened tips into the surface.
"Incredible," said Wictred.
His admiration was not just for the technology, but also for the incredible skill demonstrated by the Anicinàbe. He had seen them perform feats of speed and skill before on many occasions, but never such as this. Down they came, in pairs and at high speed. They were the armoured shapes of Anicinàbe shock troops, attired in flexible, layered body armour and long flowing cloaks flapping over their shoulders.
Scores of them came down, like ants following a trail, until they hit the ground. No sooner were their feet on the ground and they were back up and running into battle. They moved in small groups, and with much greater expertise and efficiency than the average clan warrior. The majority worked their way through the burning column until they'd surrounded the last two undamaged parts of the land train. Sporadic fire rippled along its body as the remaining Byotai tried to beat them off.
"Now!"
Wictred and Skarn were out from cover first, and then came the rest of the Jötnar. A pitiful number of Human and Byotai survivors joined in the counterattack, but the Jötnar did the real work. They stormed ahead, covering ground quickly and blazing away with their Thumpers. Nine Anicinàbe were cut down before they even knew they were being hit.
"Don't stop. Get close and put steel down their throats!"
The one hundred and fifty metres seemed like a
kilometre, but the Jötnar were no fools. Once they reached to within fifty metres they stopped and unleashed their entire arsenal, cutting down clan warriors in all directions. Wictred ran through two boxes of ammunition and sustained six rounds to the torso before running out of ammunition. Three Jötnar were already dead, and more Anicinàbe were coming in from the South to block them off.
"Charge!"
The remaining Jötnar broke from their loose line and crashed into the Anicinàbe. Unlike the lithe, lightweight warriors, the Jötnar were monsters. Their weight alone was enough to kill a clan warrior, but coupled with blades, double-handed clubs, and multi-barrelled thermal shotguns it was a bloodbath. No more fell as they reached the outer frame of the land train. Byotai leaned out from the top and fired down into the battle, doing what little they could to help.
"Help me up!" Skarn shouted.
One of the Jötnar moved to the side and bent down. Skarn ran at him, jumped up, using the body of his comrade to boost himself up onto the front of the land train. He landed to find Kras and three of his guards in battle with seven Anicinàbe shock troops.
"Follow Skarn!" called out another.
Three more of them clambered up. Meanwhile Wictred and the other survivors formed a shield of flesh and metal around the base of the vehicle.
"Nothing gets through," Wictred said through clenched teeth.
The Anicinàbe shock troops still refused to give up and more continued to drop down from the many aircraft overhead. The two larger craft had moved away, but the Hornets kept coming in and dropping off what looked like Red Scars clan warriors. Six Anicinàbe came running for him, and Wictred braced himself, taking the gunfire and then swinging his Thumper like a metal bar. Each strike knocked down or killed one.
"Close ranks."
In the midst of the battle, Wictred hadn't noticed the Red Scars were not running at him out of a desire for combat, but they were being forced to attack. As he cleared a path through his attackers, he found himself staring at a line of at least thirty shock troops, and behind them hovered one of the aircraft. Its missile and gun systems were deployed and pointed directly ahead. Wictred looked at the front of the land train where Skarn and the others were embroiled in battle with their assailants.
"Get off the train!"
His words fell on deaf ears just as the massive aircraft unleashed its entire arsenal. Wictred pushed away and covered five metres towards the shock troops, as the rapid-fire guns cut down friend and foe alike. A single Red Scars warrior got in his way and paid for it with his head. Then the missiles struck, one after the other, and a mighty crescendo built up to a thunderclap, exploding the remaining parts of the land train. It sent the survivors flying off in all directions.
As the smoke cleared, the aircraft landed and down its ramp came a single Anicinàbe leader, clad in armour and his body obscured by a dark robe. He waited at the end and called out a single order in his native tongue. More shock troopers ran down the ramp and spread out among the wounded.
* * *
Kha’Dri World Ship, Taxxu Prime, Centauri Alliance
The Skyway was one of the oldest parts of the World Ship, and according to On'Sarax, a place reserved for the Biomech leadership caste. Back then the mighty machines would use it to look over their fleets and worlds, with nothing but transparent material separating them from the elements. In more recent times IAB technicians had fully restored the Skyway to its former glory. It was no easy task, especially as sections of it sustained heavy damage during the fighting at the Black Rift. Now the entire long ring was open and available for use by senior members of the IAB. One press team had been granted access, and the footage of the conquered domain of the Biomechs, specifically the dead world of Taxxu, had been a major boon for the Alliance. The Skyway ran along the outer skin of the World Ship and provided stunning views of the Taxxu system, as well as giving a place of solitude from the shipbuilding and training that seemed to fill every cubic metre of the ship.
"Once, a very long time ago, the machines would have walked this path," said Olik.
"Yeah," agreed Khan, "and now we do. What's your point?"
Olik shook his head.
"My point, is that they thought they were Gods, and look what happened to them. They may have created machines and technology far in advance of us, but we still crushed them. Their machines have been scrapped, their warriors defeated, and ships now rotting in a hundred shipyards."
Khan pushed his fists together.
"I know. We were all there when it happened, Olik."
Olik muttered, and Spartan did his best not to laugh. Khan was being intentionally obtuse, and like it or not, Spartan found that concept amusing. Olik was trying to have a moment of reflection, and Khan, as usual, was having none of it. He was so much closer in attitude to that of Gun, than the more youthful behaving Olik. Spartan and Kanjana looked like children as they walked just ahead of Khan and Olik. They covered ground quickly but found the space deserted, and only a handful of IAB marines guarding the entry points to the Skyway.
"Spartan, will they come with us?" Kanjana asked.
Spartan nodded quickly.
"Of course, but it might need a little explanation. This is a first for us."
Kanjana laughed.
"You can say that again. This is not what we signed up for."
"When has that ever made a difference?" Khan said.
The Jötnar's voice was low and grave, and layer upon layer of contempt for the orders he'd been given over years of combat. Jötnar were frequently used as line breakers and had been sent to their deaths more times than he could ever remember.
"They will send us wherever they choose. Our decision is simply what do we do when we get there."
Spartan looked back at Khan, slightly surprised at what his friend had to say. They had both experienced hard times in the past, but Spartan hadn't realised Khan felt quite that badly about some of the orders they'd been given.
"Khan, are you good with this?"
The Jötnar beamed back at him.
"Combat on Karnak, hell, it will be a cakewalk compared to the last war."
Spartan wasn't sure if Khan was being sarcastic, but they were now finally approaching one of the large dome-like structures placed at regular intervals around the Skyway. These were positioned at distances of one hundred metres apart and looked like studs from the exterior of the ship.
"Spartan!" It was a familiar voice.
Waiting in the dome was one other Jötnar and three Humans. All of them wore their combat armour but with their faceplates open and clear. Spartan moved ahead more quickly and towards the two sisters. He stopped and grasped Syala's arm, using all of his self control to go no further. The others caught up and waited before Gun cleared his voice.
"Good, this is the best place to talk. Today we will make history."
Arana looked to the great warrior, and then lifted one eyebrow.
"Such secrecy, and from your own people. Gun, you surprise me. What enemies do any of us have out here, anymore? The Biomechs are no more, are they not?"
Gun chuckled. He had been waiting with the sisters until the others arrived, and though they'd exchanged pleasantries; he'd avoided saying anything of the operation he had planned.
"You do not understand, Arana of the Black Widows?"
The name of the mercenary unit was rarely used and immediately made Arana suspicious. Gun could see her discomfort and assumed she did not like the idea of this secretive meeting.
"Brigadier Black recently explained to me about the idea of plausible deniability."
Already he could see the expression on Arana's face changing.
"Ah, I see. So you have heard of this expression?"
Syala pushed past her sister to get a better look at Gun's muscular face.
"Yeah," muttered Syala, "We know the term, don't we, sister?"
Arana nodded her head slowly.
"Oh, yes. Plausible deniability means we get to do dirty work, whil
e the people paying pretend it never happened."
Syala had much more to say.
"And if it goes wrong, we get left in the lurch, and without backup of any kind. So yeah, we're vaguely familiar with what you're talking about."
Arana looked less than impressed with what Gun had to say so far.
"Or another way of saying this is that you're putting together a black bag operation for the Alliance, but not officially. Am I about right?"
Gun chuckled again and looked to Spartan as though he was waiting for a signal. There was no obvious sign between them, but he acted as if Spartan had given his clearance to continue.
"True, and we want the two of you to join our command team. The other units are useful, but you and your Widows are not cannon fodder. You have a much more important job, if you're up to it?"
Syala looked to Spartan who gave her a knowing look.
"Command team sounds good. More pay, presumably?"
Khan laughed in the background, and Olik struck him in the flank. Gun sighed and then carried on speaking.
"As you both know by now, we have a defensive agreement with the Byotai, but no authority for the Alliance to act in the Tenth Quadrant. We can help deliver aid and supplies, but nothing more. Both sides claim the region, and if we declare for one or the other, it could be the trigger for a full-scale regional war. We don't want that, and neither do the Byotai. There's a lot of rebuilding to do since the war, and nobody is ready for a fight."
Kanjana had been silent until now, but as an Anicinàbe, she was more than familiar with the politics and infighting currently spreading through the region.
"There has always been a feeling among my people that the cold-bloods are living on borrowed time. They breed slowly, but live long and uninteresting lives. In the time our people have been in contact, the Byotai population has changed little, ours has doubled and is growing."
"That much hate, it makes little sense," said Olik.
Khan struck him between the shoulder blades.
"They compete for territory and resources. It is inevitable they will come into contact with each other. Either they intermingle and share, or they will fight."
War of the Exiles Page 9
