Teresa found it hard to speak and simply stared at the screen for a moment. It was a one-way message, and if she responded it would continue, but for the time being it froze to a still. She wiped her dark hair back and rested her forehead in her left hand.
You have to know, just do it! A voice said in her head.
She shook her head free and reached out to strike the button. The video continued while a secondary stream appeared. The material in front of her was a tracking shot of the interior of a T’Kari ship. The interior corridors and passageways were identical to T’Kari ships that she had been inside before Spartan’s disappearance. Then the footage cut to a gray room where a number of Intelligence agents waited quietly. Each wore a dark suit, and one waited in the corner with a long black trench coat that almost touched the floor. The view tracked to the left until it reached a row of medical tables upon which were the shapes of the humans in question. They were of unequal sizes, with the larger being almost double the total size of the other.
Here it is.
She gasped, but it wasn’t the vessel that had stunned her. It was the close-up of two faces. One was of a battered and scarred Jötnar that she instantly recognized as that of Khan, one of her and Spartan’s old friends. The next face however was pale and bruised but unmistakably the face of her husband, Spartan.
It can’t be, can it?
The image shifted to one side and was replaced by that of a blond-haired Alliance Intelligence agent. He looked for a moment at her, but it couldn’t have been to wait for her to speak; the delay for the signal traveling through multiple Rifts to Sol was a long one of nearly an hour.
“We believe this man to be Spartan, formally an officer in the Alliance military and an executive of the defunct APS Corporation,” the man stated in a dull, monotone voice.
Teresa looked at his features and felt a sickening feeling in her body. The man in front of her was breathing, but his eyes were closed, and the marks on his face suggested he had been through some kind of horrific ordeal.
“From an initial assessment, it appears the two individuals have suffered numerous external injuries, including multiple limb factures, broken ribs, and in the case of this individual, the violent amputation of a forearm.”
He said more, but Teresa heard none of it. Instead, she watched as the camera moved about his body and showed a myriad of cuts, bruises, and burn marks. His body looked more fragile than she’d ever seen it before. A rough beard filled his face, and his hair was longer and messier than ever.
“...the injuries to the legs are far less important than...”
The image cut and was replaced by a temporary still frame with details of the lost connection.
“Damn it!” she snapped and hit the button on her video communicator built into the desk. The face of her newly assigned Captain who waited at the desk just outside her small office appeared; he seemed almost flustered at her appearance.
“I’ve just lost communication with Earthsec, what’s happening?”
His face vanished though as an emergency override replaced him. Instead of the Captain, the face of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, General Rivers appeared. The message wasn’t directed specifically at her. It was an emergency communiqué to all high-level commanders.
“This is a Level One strategic alert. In the last seventeen minutes, we have lost contact with three of our newest Rift stations. These are the Gliese 876, Procyon, and in the last few seconds the Ganymede Rift at Sol.”
Teresa first thought was that this meant she was once more cut off from Spartan, but the stern expression on the General’s face allowed little time for that kind of concern. She knew him well, and he looked worried.
“Three minutes before we lost contact, we received tactical area scans that showed small numbers of Biomech ships. One was stopped at Epsilon Eridani by Alliance frigates, but the others were breached before we lost contact.”
Breached? That means they were heading through the Rift, but where to?
The question was futile, however, as the Rifts were simply doorways in space that connected two points together. If Biomech ships had left Sol, Gliese 876, and Procyon, they could only heading in one direction.
“They are coming here!” she blurted out, but nobody could hear her.
“I have given orders to our commanders in the field to mobilize our forces throughout the Alliance. The 1st Heavy Strike Group is assembling at Prometheus in case they attempt to access the Orion Rift. The 2nd is already here at Terra Nova to protect the bridge between Alpha Centauri and Proxima Centauri. The 3rd is only partially complete and will wait as planned for us at T’Karan to give support as required. All other ships and patrol vessels are hereby brought to Condition One.”
What about me?
It was as if the General could hear her every word as he answered.
“As well as the fleet, all Marine and Colonial Guard units are to report to your respective barracks.”
She tapped a button to look at video feeds but stopped at the site of the massive comet being shown on one of the many news networks. It looked like a ball of plasma to her, but that wasn’t the concern; it was that the feed was being transmitted directly from the bridge of the Alliance flagship, ANS Conqueror, and the ticker line said fleet action in Eos.
Eos, that’s where Jack is fighting!
* * *
The massive bulk of ANS Devastation moved effortlessly through space as it made for its interception vector of Comet C34A. There were some in the Alliance press establishment that had started to nickname the comet as the Doomsday Comet, but it was a term that had been actively discouraged by the top brass, something that was apparently making it even more popular. They had already started to decelerate and had matched the elliptical trajectory of the object so that they would move alongside it in the next hour. The rest of the fleet was spread out, with half the ships maintaining an advance defensive screen near Eos along with the newly arrived ANS Royal Oak.
“Anything?” he asked his second-in-command, Captain Marcus.
The executive officer shook his head.
“Nothing, Admiral, the fleet is in position, and the comet is maintaining its course. All fragmented debris is accounted for, and the escort wing under Commodore Hampel has intercepted anything coming close. So far he has destroyed seventy fragments with no loss or damage.”
Admiral Lewis moved his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement. It was that time that occurred on every operation, the waiting game, and it never became easier. He took a sip from his flask of water and checked the tactical screen for the hundredth time.
So this is what the press calls a planet-killer. Not on my watch!
The emergency alerts blasted through the CIC warning every officer of a serious threat. It wasn’t the usual warning from an individual system, but the full battlestations that was activated during an incoming threat or emergency.
“What the hell is going on?” demanded Admiral Lewis.
He was busy watching the comet on the mainscreen, but the data he had been presented with suggested he could expect to face no potential threat until they moved in closer to the object. The scattered debris field was well out of range, and the escorts were doing their job screen the fleet. Nonetheless, the alerts were proximity and thermal signature alarms designed to warn of approaching weapons or ships.
“Uh...Admiral, this...this is...”
He twisted around and threw a bitter look at the tactical officer that he immediately regretted. All he could do was blame it on the situation.
“Snap out of it, man, what is the problem?”
The man had only just joined the crew of the Battlecruiser and lifted his shoulders as he took in a deep breath. There had been many crew changes following the battle against the automated fleet due to casualties, but most had been moved to other less experienced ships to try and boost the overall quality.
“It’s the comet, Admiral. Our sensors are detecting objects detaching from it.”
“Objects...as in fragments? Is C34A breaking apart?”
His immediate thought was that these chunks could potentially be a navigational hazard for his ships. It was unlikely, as the amount of open space between them and the comet made the odds of an impact almost impossible.
“No, Admiral. Sensors show active weapon signatures on the objects. So far there are forty-one...no, forty-five.”
He turned about in his seat to look at him, a look of horror on his face.
“Admiral, these are not chunks of debris. The threat assessment is of a large number of capital ships of unknown origin. It looks like a fleet, and they are moving to an entry vector for Eos.”
Admiral Lewis was stunned. The reports and plotting data for the comet had implied something unexpected, and he had assumed the object was being directed as a weapon.
It would seem there is much more to it than meets the eye.
Without even checking with the rest of the senior commanders, he grabbed the intercom and hit the emergency broadcast button.
“This is Admiral Lewis to all captains. Operation Inferno is aborted. Break off immediately and reform in a defensive posture around ANS Royal Oak. This is not a drill; every single ship is at risk. This is a threat Level One warning. Get out of here, now!”
He intended on calling out to General Daniels, but the man was already there, waiting along with his own executive officer, Captain Marcus who had recently transferred from the Titan Naval Station.
“Admiral, these ships are showing weapon signatures as well as extremely heavy armor. They are definitely not civilian. This is an attack, it has to be,” suggested the Captain.
General Daniels took another step forward so that he could get a better view of the large images on the mainscreen. It showed the shapes moving from the comet that was already getting smaller and smaller. He could see the list on the right as each of the objects was scanned, tagged and then sent to the rest of the fleet. What really caught his eye was the rising number of ships.
“Eight-two ships...and rising? We have a big problem,” he said more to himself than the others. He then turned and looked at the young Captain.
“Of course it’s an attack.”
The Captain, however, was a master of diplomacy, at least that was the impression given. He nodded, saying nothing but he looked less surprised than the Admiral. The ship groaned as the helmsman forced it to start powering up its engines to alter course. The emergency alarms blared their warning.
“We need to strap in,” said Captain Marcus.
The other officers didn’t need reminding and quickly moved to the nearest seat and pulled on the straps. The ship’s computer began a loud, audible countdown from ten as the engines built up. At the same time, the retro thrusters twisted the massive vessel about to face its new vector.
“Seven...six...”
Admiral Lewis looked at the mainscreen again and was shocked to see the number had just moved past one hundred. What really sent a chill through his body was the magnified view from one of the many long-range scopes fitted to the Battlecruiser. It panned past a group of armored capital ships and toward a large formation of smaller vessels. The camera locked onto one and zoomed in to the target vessels. The image continually moved in and out of focus before it finally settled. The computer started a detailed analysis immediately and put the size at about half the size of an Alliance cruiser, except that this ship was odd, like nothing he’d seen before.
“What is it?” he asked.
The ship shook again, and then a powerful drone spread through the hull. All of them were familiar with the powerful engines, but the fact they were being used to get out of danger sent a palpable feeling of concern through the vessel. Everybody from Admiral Lewis down to lowly ensign knew something was going wrong.
“Look at the configuration,” said General Daniels as he studied the craft.
“What about it?” asked Captain Marcus.
“Well, for starters the shape of the bow and underside suggests it is designed for atmospheric entry.”
“The General’s correct,” called out Lieutenant Vitelli, “The craft’s configuration is similar to that of our marine landers like the Mauler, except this thing is much bigger. Look at the bow.”
They looked for just a moment, but Admiral Lewis could already see the section the Captain referred to.
“I see it. The craft looks heavily armored on the bow.”
General Daniels and Admiral Lewis’ eyes met across CIC. Lewis spoke first.
“That thing is designed to get to the surface in one piece.”
The General nodded in agreement.
“The question is, are they orbital weapons, or something much worse, like landing craft?”
The mention of the possibility the vessels intended to land people on the surface was something of a shock to them all. Then an image appeared on the mainscreen that stopped them all from speaking. It was a black shape that was emblazoned like a piece of heraldry running along the flanks of the ship. As the camera moved, it showed the same symbol on every single one of the other vessels.
“What is that?” asked the executive officer.
“Echidna,” hissed the Admiral between his teeth.
Admiral Lewis and General Daniels knew exactly what it was, and the mere sight of the metal serpent sent a chill through both of them. Admiral Lewis had already hit the emergency broadcast button when General Daniels started to speak.
“We’re in trouble, what’s the plan?”
“You know who they are. I need to contact High Command before they hit us. This could be over in minutes.”
General Daniels nodded grimly and walked back to his command room adjacent to the CIC. He had his own, much smaller staff to help coordinate Marine operations in this sector. There were only three people there, including Colonel Horst Brünner, the commander of the 4th Marine Heavy Battalion. The rest of senior commanders were on the surface of Eos helping with the Helion efforts against the Animosh insurgency.
“It’s true then?” asked the Colonel.
Daniels looked at his with expressionless eyes. He had seen plenty of battles, but the sight of so many ships filled him with an emotion he hadn’t felt for a long time. It was an odd mixture of worry, dread, and hatred combined into an unreasoning desire to strike out.
“Colonel, this is the largest Biomech fleet we have ever seen. Over a hundred capital ships, and they are coming this way.”
He was no great fan of Colonel Horst Brünner, but even he could see the flicker of fear show on the man’s face. He was used to seeing argument for no reason from the man, but in that instant the Colonel changed.
“We’ve never come across the Biomechs in large numbers before. They always attack us via third parties. Are we ready?”
The General shook his head.
“Not by a long shot. We have a dozen capital ships and nine frigates. That puts us at odds of at least five-to-one.”
“What about our boys on the ground?”
General Daniels smiled at the question. He had always considered Brünner to be a self-righteous and bitter man, one concerned only with self-promotion and advancement. Now that it came to the real test, and the man thought only of their marines.
Maybe he isn’t the man I thought he was?
“We’ll get them all to safety, and fast. If those are landing craft of some type, we could see a full-scale Biomech assault on Eos. We have to save as many as we can and prepare for the worst.”
“General!”
The Admiral shouted from a dozen meters away. He stepped to one side to look back at the man. The look on his face had altered slightly to one of grim determination. The ship had stopped its maneuvering now and was accelerating back to the ships closer to Eos. The image of the Echidna stylized force was showing on every screen, and all he could think about were the Biomechanical monstrosities he’d faced on so many occasions before.
“Yes?”
“Your people ha
ve three hours. If I can’t stop this fleet, they will face the full wrath of this attack. Get them ready. This will be a battle unlike anything any of us have ever seen.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The Zealots and their Biomech influenced masters were one of the greatest mysteries of the past. Their uprising started with suicide bombings and assassinations and soon spread to a military resolution with support, technology, and resources far outweighing what should have been possible. Only in the following decades would it become clear how far the Biomech influence had been in both the supply of technology and their political manipulation. The cunning of the Biomechs was second only to the Byzantines of ancient Earth.
A Brief History of the Zealots
Fort Macquarie was the primary base of operations for the Marine Corps and its auxiliary units supplied by the Alliance Navy. It had been constructed in less than a month and was now the logistics hub for operations carried out by the Helion security forces and their Alliance comrades. Self-replicating technology was one of the advances now being used by the Marine Corps to great effect. In the past, it might have taken years to create such a site, but a large force of drones and hundreds of supply crates had been installed within a week. Left to their own devices, the autonomous machines were able to assemble the buildings, towers, and bunkers on their own and at an exponential rate as they assembled more drones actually on location. The building materials were harvested directly from the ground itself by robotic mining and refining drones at the now shut down assembly plant in the corner of the site.
With over eight thousand personnel in total, it was the largest base outside of Alliance space. The entire 17th and 8th Marine Battalions were there in force, with an equal number of Helion troops being mentored by specialists from Terra Nova. Two landing strips had been marked out, as well as eighteen individual landing pads for vertical takeoff craft. The site included prefabricated barracks, a large field hospital, and a five-meter tall wall that ran in a giant square around the entire base.
Star Crusades Nexus: Book 05 - Prophecy of Fire Page 7
