Star Crusades Nexus: Book 05 - Prophecy of Fire

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Yeah, that’s about right.”

  The barges may have been primitive, but they had always been constructed to take a heavy beating. Dozens of white flashes ran about the turrets of the Earth ships, and Spartan felt his body tense.

  “Incoming!” growled Khan while watching his gunnery screen.

  Lines of projectiles from the medium-caliber railguns slammed into the forward armor of the T’Kari ship, despite the best efforts of her crew. An undamaged ship such as this might stand a chance in a fair fight, but this vessel was barely operational. Her hull was pockmarked with a hundred holes, and missiles had ripped plating and weapon mounts off all along her frame.

  “Can’t you reach them with the comms?” asked Spartan.

  As if to answer his question, the computer monitors all switched off. Even the emergency lights vanished, leaving the control room in complete darkness.

  “Oh, great, this is just what we need.”

  A final volley tore a hole the size of a man in the portside armor, and in seconds the breach alarms were sounding. Spartan tried to pull the belt back on where he sat, but he was too late. The ship was already spinning out of control, and he flew across the open space and crashed into the ceiling. He didn’t even have time to see what Khan was doing before he blacked out.

  * * *

  Eos had more in common with a conventional planet than that of a moon. It was a barren, rocky world with dozens of industrial sites and shielded cities littering the moon. Though protected by the massive gas-giant planet Gaxos’ magnetic field, it carried only a trace atmosphere and below average gravity. Unlike Helios, most of the structures were low, and many were built directly into the ground, with some even deep below the surface. A formation of three Hammerhead fighters moved at low altitude, scanning for signs of insurgents, and a column of five Bulldog vehicles made slow progress across the dusty surface. The armored vehicles kicked up a dust cloud that could be seen for kilometers around them.

  “Keep your eyes open, marines. You saw the reports,” said Sergeant Stone.

  The eight-wheeled Bulldog shook violently as it bumped over the rough road surface. No matter how many times Jack traveled about in these vehicles, he found himself constantly amazed how small they were internally compared to the large bulk on the outside. He looked at the Sergeant with a mixture of awe and amazement. It was only seven months earlier that they had been fighting on Helios against Animosh paramilitaries and their allies. Jack swallowed, doing his best to hold back the cold knot feeling in his stomach. The vodka from the previous night burned inside him, and he had to tense his entire body to avoid vomiting inside his helmet. He looked sideways and took a sip of tepid water from the tube near his mouth. The feeling in his stomach subsided for a moment.

  Get a grip, Jack. You’ve got a job to do.

  He’d been granted only a modest amount of leave, prior to being sent on the four-month trip to the moon of Eos. That meant it was almost seven months since he’d witnessed the flags of the Zathee being raised over the capital of Helios. They weren’t his people, and he felt no great affection for them, apart from those he’d been in immediate contact with, like the Helion synthetic named Vadi. But the length of the journey to the moon did leave him with a feeling of unease. They were far from home and little help could be sent if it was needed, certainly not in time.

  The fact that there was no Rift anywhere near the planet surprised him until he’d seen the remains of the space platform that orbited the moon. Animosh sympathizers had shattered it, presumably in a vain attempt to seize control of the moon before the Zathee could do anything about it. That didn’t concern him anything like as much as the thought of his family back on Terra Nova. He felt a growing pain in his stomach and took another sip of water.

  Easy now, you don’t want to throw up in your suit!

  That thought seemed to sober him up faster than anything else. The thoughts of his mother recovering in the military hospital nearly put a smile on his face, that was until he recalled the arguments and shouting with his siblings. It started to fill him with a rage he could barely suppress.

  “I hate this place,” muttered Private Callahan, voicing the thoughts of the majority.

  He was easily the largest built of the entire group, now that Wictred had been transferred to assist in the training and command of the heavy units being added to the battalion. His complaining turned Jack’s attention from the events of Terra Nova, and he was thankful for it. He would have plenty of time for silent reflection after this operation.

  “Son, you’re not here to like this place; it’s just a moon, like any other,” snapped back the Sergeant.

  There were no windows inside the vehicle, but the small number of display screens allowed them to see what was happening outside via the camera feeds. The computer system may have screwed things, but from what Jack could see the place was an arid, gray looking environment with no large structure of note.

  “Why are we here, Sarge, can’t drones do this?” asked Corporal Frewyn in his common sounding accent.

  The tall and obviously attractive Private Riku laughed.

  “Of course not, drones are expensive, marines are cheap.”

  Now the Sergeant was angry. He leaned into the middle of the squad and scowled at each of them. His eyes moved from one to the other until he stopped in front of Riku.

  “Marines are the most expensive asset in the entire Corps. Your training, equipment, supplies, medical gear, and retirement rack up to millions. Now you secure this crap and concentrate on your job. Understood?”

  The marines replied quickly and without hesitation. Stone moved back to his seat and pulled on his harness, just as they struck another rut in the dirt track.

  “There might be peace on Helios, but this ain’t Helios, is it?” he asked rhetorically.

  With a clenched fist, he pointed to the side of the vehicle. The effect was slightly spoiled by the fact he was wearing the dark PDS Alpha armor that exaggerated the size of his body and fingers.

  “This is one of the richest industrial sites run by the Helions under the control of the Irkerk corporation. This world’s output is greater than Kerberos, Prime, and Terra Nova combined, and that’s just on a moon. They have shipyards, fuel processing plants, and engineering sites are all over this moon.”

  Another rut would have broken their necks had the marines not be strapped in. Instead it bumped and slid for a few seconds before righting itself. Sergeant Stone called out angrily through his intercom. The visor was open, and the other marines could easily see his face.

  “Watch your driving. Last thing we want is an upturned Bulldog out in the middle of this place.”

  They continued onward; each watching through the view screens for signs of the elusive enemy. Every small settlement or factory site seemed deserted with only the occasional engineering vehicle using the same roads. The slightly lower gravity than they were used to making the dust clouds they kicked up even worse than normal. By the time they had moved through the fifth factory district, the marines were becoming agitated. The inability to move about inside the vehicles was physically uncomfortable as well as claustrophobic.

  “Sarge, what are they even doing here? I though the fighting was over?” asked Private Riku.

  Stone looked at her without moving even a single muscle on his face. Jack watched, waiting for his reply and noted how hard and disciplined the man was.

  Just like Spartan, all military, he thought distantly.

  “The fighting on Helios might be over, but Justitium Lyssk is still at large, along with the Animosh that escaped. They have resources, money, and plenty of people who don’t like what’s happening on Helios.”

  Jack nodded as if the Sergeant was actually answering him. He was correct. There were many on Helios from the previously powerful cultures that had lost power in the revolution.

  “It’s true. Helios is a complex place. The main three pureblooded groups are hardly the greatest of friends, but they ar
e at least equals. The Sh'Dori control most of the money and hold the greatest power.”

  What about others?” asked Riku.

  Sergeant Stone noticed her leaning her head toward Jack. He grinned but not enough for anybody else to notice.

  “Yes, Private, explain it to us. I’m sure we’d all like to hear your insight on the ethnic and political makeup of the Helions.”

  The sarcasm was clear, but Jack didn’t care. Talking took his mind off the swirling cocktail of alcohol in his body and forced his mind away from his demons.

  “Okay, well, as I understand it, the Irkerk and Yuulen were the original people, one being industrial and the others coming from agricultural stock. The Sh'Dori were warriors, but I don’t remember where they came from.”

  “Aliens?” asked Riku with a forced smile.

  Jack smirked.

  “No, I just mean I don’t know where on Helios they came from. This was millennia ago, don’t forget.”

  “Ah...if you say so. Go on.”

  Some of the other marines seemed to be taking an interest in Jack’s little lecture. He opened his mouth to continue when he spotted the hastily repaired damage marks on Sergeant Stone’s chest. He’d been hurt several times in their last engagement, but as always, the tough as nails Sergeant was back in the fray. Jack had seen a lot of violence in his life so far, but it was the brutal slaying of his friend Hunn, and the torn up bodies on Helios while fighting machines, that had pushed him too far. The combat two months earlier had been on an even grander scale, and he was now at the stage where he needed drugs or drink to sleep.

  “Jack?” asked Riku.

  He looked at her, a glazed expression showing through his eyes. She checked Sergeant Stone wasn’t looking before hitting him on the side of his armored helm. The impact shook him, and his eyes flickered before returning to something approaching normalcy.

  “Jack! Snap out of it,” she said as quietly but firmly as she could manage.

  He stared into her eyes before remembering where he was and what he was doing.

  “What about them?”

  “You were telling us about the Helion factions.”

  He remembered and inhaled slowly, trying to remember how far he had reached.

  “Okay, yeah. Well, the Sh'Dori, right?”

  Riku nodded quickly.

  “Right, they moved into and took over all the major institutions. The other two stayed but specialized. Over time this became exaggerated, and now the Sh'Dori have the same population as the other two combined.”

  Sergeant Stone must have been listening because he decided to wade in.

  “The Private is right. The Sh'Dori are the ones with the most to lose by the rise of the Zathee. They are producing the money and support for the Animosh and Justitium Lyssk.

  Jack thought of the Zathee and how so many of them had risen up to overthrow their so called ‘pureblood’ oppressors. Few would publically question the right of the majority class known as the Zathee to be treated fairly, but nobody would relinquish power voluntarily, certainly not the Sh'Dori.

  “And that just leaves the Zathee, how do they fit in?” asked Private Jana Jenkell, the unit’s medic, who had remained silent until now. Even inside her helmet, her eyes seemed to almost glow bright blue. They were unlike anything Jack had seen before. Private Riku spotted him looking at her and shook her head in annoyance.

  “Are you going to tell us then, or is it a secret?”

  Jack looked back at the screen nearest him and spotted something on the ridge to the right. This part of the moon looked the same as every other section they had patrolled so far. The road was wide enough for three Bulldogs side-by-side, and there were ditches each side below the raised roadway. The low rolling hills filled the background, but it was the sprawling shape of a dozen factory structures with their towers, spires and, warehouses that was most noticeable.

  “There,” he said without thinking.

  Sergeant Stone leaned over to look at the screen.

  “What is it?”

  Jack pointed at the shape he’d seen move on the ridge near the closest building, a two story storage complex. They stared for what seemed like an age, and then a black smudge appeared and vanished again.

  The Sergeant nodded and leaned back.

  “Good work, Private.”

  He started to speak with the driver over the intercom. The other marines checked their own displays, looking for potential targets. As usual, the hexrotor drones buzzed overhead looking for signs of the enemy. Though on old piece of technology, the reconnaissance and communications of the past were being rectified, by fitting control nodes and flight packs on most vehicles in the Marine Corps inventory. A red blip appeared on the right of the screen, indicating a potential drone problem.

  “Drone down, possible enemy action,” said a spotter in the lead Bulldog.

  Jack felt the shockwave slam into his chest, and the Bulldog veered off the road. The level of skill shown by the driver was impressive. Jack reached out and grabbed one of the many grab rails inside the vehicle as they careered from the track and off into the ditch on the right-hand side. One wheel tore clean off as they hit a mound of jagged rocks, and then they were through and bouncing across the flatland, finally bogging down in the thick dusty surface layer.

  “Dismount!” growled Sergeant Stone.

  The doors hissed open just like in their training exercises, and the marines poured out. Three seconds after the doors opened, a rocket exploded ten meters from the Bulldog’s hull. To untrained eyes it looked as if the vehicle had been struck, but Jack spotted the yellow flash from the topside mounts just before the missile struck. It was the Bulldog’s set of advanced reactive armor. A brief moment before the rocket struck, it fired a stream of disruptive shards as a cloud in the path of the missile to detonate it prematurely. Nothing more than broken fragments bounced from its hull. The entire squad was now free, and Jack could see marines flooding from the other three Bulldogs until the platoon was out and taking cover.

  “Stay down!” snapped Sergeant Stone as he moved about the defensive laager created by the four vehicles. The fifth Bulldog, and the only mobile gun unit, still burned on the dusty highway, all of its crew dead and the wreckage spread for meters in every direction.

  “Sergeant, six hundred meters to the east!” Jack shouted as he checked the tagged targets on his helmet overlay.

  “Good eyes, son.”

  Each of the marines lay face down in the dirt, doing their best to provide the smallest possible target. That didn’t mean they had been rendered useless though. As they waited, they trained their carbines and rifles at in the direction of the enemy force as identified by the drones, Bulldog defense scanners, and information from each of the individual marines.

  “Sergeant, what do we have?” asked Lieutenant Daniel Elvidge, the platoon’s new officer. He’d been transferred to them direct from the Marine Academy, along with dozens of other marines to replace the casualties from the operation on Helios. His roundish face, light brown hair, and calm persona could be misinterpreted by some as one of the many privileged citizens that had joined directly as an officer. Sergeant Stone spotted him moving toward him and nodded, avoiding signs that could be identified by the enemy.

  “Sir, we’ve got seven targets tagged at long-range.”

  “Why are we not being hit?”

  “My guess is they are lacking heavy weapons.”

  The new Lieutenant lifted his hand to wipe his face before striking the visor. It was a simple gesture and easily made, yet it did little to instill confidence. It wasn’t helped when he moved to hit the release toggle to open it up. The Sergeant grabbed his hand.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Sir.”

  The Lieutenant looked to the Sergeant with a sheepish expression on his face. It was his first combat mission, and already he’d lost a vehicle and crew. He thought of his training at the academy, and it flooded back to him.

  “Comms, appraise
command of our situation. I want one squad to stay here. Check the Bulldog for casualties and prep for evac. The rest of you are coming with me.”

  “Lieutenant?”

  He turned and looked to the Sergeant.

  “The hostiles are all in the industrial site, is that correct?”

  “Yes, Sir, all seven.”

  “Then we need them neutralized.”

  The Lieutenant had already moved away and was rounding up the other two squads of marines before Sergeant Stone could try and stop him.

  “Lieutenant, it might be wiser to stand off, watch the enemy, and bring in air support to finish them off.”

  The new officer nodded smartly while directing the others.

  “True, but don’t forget the mission, Sergeant. This isn’t Zathee territory. This sector is mainly heavy industry and engineering with a mixture of pureblood Irkerk and Yuulen. We have few friends here outside of the habitation districts. We need to find, capture, or kill these insurgents face to face. If we cause excess damage to their property or hurt their civilians, we might as well hand the victory to the enemy.”

  Jack could hear them speaking over the open marine channel. It was strange it had taken so long for the replacements to reach them. They’d already conducted six patrols on the ground in the last week. The reinforcements had been delayed a week, so they had managed by transferring existing officers to temporary positions.

  I wonder if we’ve drawn the short straw with this new and very green officer.

  “I want air support on standby, should we need it,” said the Lieutenant.

  Jack watched him go toward one of the other squads. It was clear to him that Sergeant Stone wasn’t too sure either. The two marine squads were already moving now, and Sergeant Stone moved with them but stayed close enough to the Lieutenant in case he needed assistance. The level of gravity was lower than the Earth standard amount, but at least it was only slightly lighter. They moved further and faster here but so did the enemy, and they would be used to it. Sergeant Stone’s first impression had been a confused one.