Star Crusades Nexus: Book 05 - Prophecy of Fire

by Michael G. Thomas

  Khan leaned down to look.

  “Why, what do they want?”

  Spartan put his right hand on his friend’s arm.

  “Does it matter, old friend? They will do what they always do, control and destroy. It’s time for us to do what we do best.”

  Khan seemed to like that and walked back to the doorway. He looked back at the other two.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? We have machines to kill!”

  He vanished, leaving the two of them waiting in silence. Spartan moved for the door first, his thermal shotgun held down low at his waist and resting on his shattered left arm.

  “How will we stop them?” asked Simon.

  “Easy,” laughed Spartan, “We find them, then we kill them.”

  The poor man chased after them and could hear nothing but laughter from them both. He looked down at the shotgun and struggled to find the safety. He’d never used a weapon in anger before, and now he was chasing after two warriors who seemed to enjoy nothing more than the hunt.

  What the hell are you doing? You crazy old fool!

  It wasn’t enough to stop him from following them.

  * * *

  The battle for the walls of Fort Macquarie was over, and the casualties among the Marines and New Helion Army soldiers were substantial. Two of the walls had been smashed in a hundred places where the war machines of the Biomechs had literally pounded them with metal arms until they broke. For every marine that had fallen, there were five dead or horribly maimed Biomech creatures on the ground. Resistance continued inside, as the marines withdrew to the two remaining internal quadrants and their defenses. The quadrant containing the vehicle pool was the most heavily defended, and over a thousand marines had dug in to the wall, trenches, and system of six bunkers. Jack and his small group waited in the trenches on the right-hand side of the quadrant, directly opposite the vehicle pool. Three-dozen Bulldogs waited while another ten mobile gun variants had been moved to provide fire support for the defense of the Fort. Flickers of gunfire ran around the two quadrants, as they halted and then beat back what was now the seventh full frontal assault on their position.

  “Do they have any plan or is it just to keep attacking, no matter what happens?” asked Riku bitterly.

  It was a short moment of respite even though the long arced trajectories of weapons fired from the crashed landers announced the arrival of yet another bombardment.

  “Incoming!” shouted a sergeant from the middle of the quadrant.

  Explosions rippled through the base as indiscriminate fire landed on marines, buildings, and the dozens of already damaged fighters. The handful of remaining air defense systems did what they could, but there was little a few weapon batteries could do against such an overwhelming bombardment. One blast shredded a Ram as it moved crates of ammunition to one of the bunkers. It vanished in a bright fireball that sent pieces of the machine in every direction. Streaks of lights lifted up into the skies as the ammunition exploded. The shockwave sent yet another layer of dirt and dust over the marines.

  “What’s the plan, Jack?” asked Riku.

  It was hard to tell any of them apart now. Each was covered in dirt and their armor cut and scratched in a hundred places. The entire Fort was full of dust clouds, but it was the thick black smoke coming from a hundred burning vehicles, machines, and buildings that reduced visibility the most. Jack kept down low and rested his carbine on the emergency parapets the Rams had been assembling even in the middle of the battle.

  “We need to get everybody out of here in those Bulldogs, and fast.”

  She looked at the armored vehicles lined up neatly in rows. Three burned in the corner because of stray fire rather than any direct involvement in the battle. More shells landed nearby, and Riku shuddered at the sight of three marines vanishing in the middle of a terrifying explosion.

  “What about the Lieutenant?” asked Callahan.

  Riku was still shaking her head as she looked at the two of them.

  “If we try and leave this place, they’ll catch us. We’re trapped!”

  Jack looked at the Bulldogs once more before turning his attention back to his comrades. He could see the look of desperation on their faces, and the sound of Riku’s voice was of a marine on the edge of a complete breakdown.

  “We need to get them all out of here,” Jack said sternly. “They’ve not landed any vehicles that we know of, and our fighters and drones are still keeping them busy.”

  Callahan looked up as though he doubted Jack’s very words. As promised, the trails from scores of fighters and spacecraft continued to fill the sky. The overlay on the visor marked out those identified as friendly, and he was happy to see there were still aircraft up there fighting for them.

  “We can escape, but only so long as we have air cover to keep them off our backs. We have to do it now, and fast, or we’ll lose everyone!”

  Callahan considered the idea for a moment and then shook his head angrily.

  “Jack, are you insane? We might get a squad in each of them. That’s just over three hundred. We have triple that number plus wounded. Don’t forget about Gun and his unit. Where is he?”

  Jack had already done the math, and even if the marines clambered on top of the vehicles, it would leave at least half of them behind. There didn’t seem to be any great answers though.

  “Gun can look after himself. He’s done it before. We have to save all that we can.”

  The armored form of Lieutenant Thom Jason stopped their conversation. The man was burly-looking and with the markings of his elite Drop Unit, one of the experimental aerial insertion units being trialed in some of the battalions. He stepped out from the forward trench so his marines could see him.

  “Marines, they’re coming through again! Get ready!”

  Every marine had already fixed bayonets to their rifle or carbine. Even the few remaining platoons of the NHA had done the same, but it was unlikely they would stand in a hand-to-hand fight with such deadly and brutal warriors. Shadows appeared throughout the base as the creatures moved closer. With them controlling two of the walls, they were now able to enter the perimeter relatively unmolested and could make use of the two quadrants near the landing strips to assemble.

  “Fire!” cried out Lieutenant Jason.

  He wasn’t the most senior marine on the base, but he was the only officer remaining at this particular section of the defenses. As the first volley of gunfire erupted, he remained out at the front and on top of the closest trench to the creatures. His height seemed to draw them to him, and in just a few seconds, scores of the creatures moved directly at him.

  “Lieutenant!” Jack called out, as he grabbed the officer and yanked him back to the shallow trench. As they hit the dirt, a group of the things tried to jump in amongst them. Gunfire from the marines further behind them shredded the things, killing every one of them that tried to reach the Lieutenant.

  “Sir, are you hurt?”

  Lieutenant Jason shook his head.

  “No, I’m fine. Get back on the line, son. We have blade work to do here.”

  “Sir!”

  The orders were short and curt, but it was exactly what the marines needed. The gunfire coming from the defenses around the two quadrants was now overwhelming. The L52 carbines did most of the work, but every squad was equipped with L48 rifles for support fire, and between them they killed hundreds of the creatures. Jack began to wonder if staying might be more advisable when he spotted the burning shape of a falling object above the base. At first he thought it was a missile, but then he realized it was another type of lander. This one seemed smaller than the others. It trailed smoke and seemed to change course as it fell.

  “Uh…Jack, I don’t like this,” said Riku.

  The overlay on their visors had already calculated course, trajectory, and velocity. The data suggested a direct impact right on their position.

  “I see it,” said Jack numbly.

  He stepped back from the trench and moved
off to the left, following the angled corner to join the second set of trenches. Riku, Callahan, and the others did the same. Private Jenkell and Lieutenant Jason remained at their posts with carbines at their shoulders. Jack dropped to one knee and waved at them to follow.

  “Come on, we’ve got trouble!” he shouted out.

  Private Jenkell heard him over the comms channel and finally jumped away from her position, but the Lieutenant stood his ground. He turned to look at Jack.

  “We can’t fall back, Private. Hold your position!”

  Jack was dumbfounded until he spotted the damage to the man’s armor. The right arm was cracked and scorched, but it was the equipment on his helmet and back that had taken the brunt of the impact. The man dropped to his knee, his carbine falling uselessly to the ground.

  “Lieutenant!”

  The man groaned and then reached down for his pistol. Jack turned back, but Riku and Callahan grabbed his arms and dragged him back from their previous position. He was still protesting when the craft came crashing down ten meters from where they had been fighting. Before the thing even slowed to a halt, the hatches and door blew open; and out streamed more warriors. Five landed in front of the Lieutenant. He emptied his magazine at the first before the five shot him down. Small bloody marks indicated where the projectiles had entered his body, and still he refused to acknowledge the injuries.

  “No!” cried out Jack.

  He took aim and released a high-power shot at the closest of the group. The three rounds cut through the frontal armor neck, instantly decapitating the thing. It dropped to its knees and tipped over. Gunfire from the other marines slammed into them, but only the high-power shots from the carbines or the explosive rounds from the L48s had the power to stop them.

  “Get back, come on!” Riku shouted.

  She tugged at Jack, but he shook her off and continued to blaze away at the group as even more of them leapt from the lander. Another of the craft crashed down fifty meters away, and dozens more of the armored warriors joined the fray. Jack finally moved back, and by the time he and the others had moved to the next and final trench line, the battle had reached its climax. More and more creatures swarmed from outside the base and into the fallen quadrants while the new armored warriors spearheaded a vicious firefight around the marines at the car pool. More shapes appeared out in the distance, and two marines fired at them before realizing they were a group of four surviving Vanguards. These mighty armored warriors moved at a quick jog until reaching the open ground near the Bulldogs. One opened fire, and then all four put a powerful burst of fire into the flank of the enemy force.

  “Yeah! One marine shouted; the others quickly joined in with the excitement. Caught out in the open, the enemy warriors took a number of casualties before they split up and sent a party directly at the Vanguards.

  What the hell are they? Jack thought.

  He took aim and shot off one of their arms, but it failed to put them out of the fight. As best as he could tell, these new warriors were another variant of the seemingly infinite variety of artificial warriors created by the Biomechs. Like those already engaged in battle, they were bipedal and the same size and stature as the Helions. Their skin was itself armor, a thin metallic substance that looked like aged iron. Their faces were blank and protected by a plain helm that hid every part of their faces from view other than glowing red eyes. These warriors hunched as though forced to by a cruel trick of genetics or perhaps it was due to their muscular arrangement. It was the weapons that surprised Jack most. He’d never seen anything like it. Rather than carrying a single projectile weapon or edge weapon, they carried a shorter weapon, similar in size to the L52 but strapped to both forearms.

  * * *

  Admiral Lewis and General Daniels looked at the formation of Biomanta warships in orbit over Eos for what must have been the tenth time. Around them waited the senior Naval and Marine officers of the rest of the fleet. Half were represented by virtual presences. Admiral Lewis had made up his mind after he’d seen the reports coming from the surface of Eos. It had been a little harder to persuade the other ships’ captains though. He looked at the assembled group standing in a circle around the projected model of the moon and the ships around it. General Daniels’ command room was eminently more suitable for the briefing with its newly fitted mapping and communication equipment.

  “Well, that is the situation, Gentlemen. This will be a risky operation, but I cannot stand by and leave our marines to this fate.”

  He nodded to General Daniels.

  “The most recent data coming in shows both of our small bases were overrun in less than forty minutes, with no survivors. This is unlike any assault we have ever seen.”

  They all knew the fighting had been fierce, but the news of such horrendous casualties shocked them. The last report from the General had suggested they could hold for weeks, perhaps months until a relief force could be mobilized. Now it seemed they had just hours before complete extermination. He moved his eyes to look at each of them as he continued.

  “Fort Macquarie’s defenses have been breached, and they are broadcasting a general distress call. Either we help now, or we lose them all; that’s eight thousand people, including the bulk of the 17th and 8th Marine Battalions.”

  He left them with those figures while Admiral Lewis showed them the fleet’s dispositions. It was something of a surprise, but more than one officer recognized the basic strategy.

  “The enemy force of approximately seventeen ships is in high orbit and strung out in a wide formation to act as a buffer. According to the battle statistics, we are more than capable of matching them ship to ship, but they still have three more vessels than us. We have to rescue the marines and come out of this alive.”

  The ship shuddered slightly as the massive engines made a slight course adjustment. Even as the officers spoke, the fleet continued on its path toward the enemy. Only those in command of the ships understood they were slowing down and losing height around the moon. Bizarrely, this meant they were actually traveling in the same orbital direction as the Biomechs and at a higher speed.

  “In just over an hour, we will adjust our final position and move directly between the Biomech fleet and the moon. If the plan is successful, we will smash through their defenses and continue down to low orbit. General Daniels will conduct the rescue operation of Fort Macquarie and rendezvous with the fleet upon our return above the objective seventy-one minutes later.”

  Again he waited to let that information sink in. The plan he’d made meant they would sail beneath and past the Biomech fleet at such a speed, the engagement would last just seven minutes before they would be out of visual range. As they skimmed the thin atmosphere of Eos, the effectiveness of direct-energy weapons would be dissipated slightly. Timing was going to be critical, and any ships unable to escape would be left behind.

  Captain Perry, the commander of ANS Royal Oak pointed at the image of the fleet.

  “How long will we need to complete the rescue operation?”

  General Daniels took a long, slow breath before answering his question.

  “I’ll need at least an hour to get craft on the ground, clear landing zones, and then grab the survivors. I have the timings...and it’s going to be very close.”

  Admiral Lewis looked at the model showing their dispositions, trying to imagine how the battle would unfold. He’d tried to use the basic principle of the Battle of the Nile, but in space there were some things he simply couldn’t ignore. The long range and almost instant speed of the particle-beam weapons were deadly, but that was just the beginning. It was fighting the battle in orbit that caused the greatest problem. The two fleets couldn’t maneuver around each other. They would simply pass by each other with a narrow window to use their weapons. On the second and final pass, he would need to extract the marines’ rescue craft and then use the slingshot effect of the moon plus his engines to blast off into space.

  Could this work? he wondered.

  He
looked back at the officers and the model of the moon. The aerial images and video streams from the remaining drones reminded him he had to do something. If there was any chance of the marines holding out, he might have felt differently; but they were looking at the complete annihilation of two battalions plus their New Helion Army allies and hundreds of support personnel.

  If we don’t succeed, this could be the biggest disaster since the capture of the Titan Naval Station in the Uprising.

  * * *

  Spartan and Khan moved slowly into position around the control room of the station. Streaks of blood on the floor and walls showed where the two machines had worked their way inside. Spartan placed his finger over his lips and leaned out to take a look. He could see three metallic limbs near the entrance, and there was a great deal of noise coming from inside the station itself. The legs shifted and vanished inside.

  Just like old times.

  He moved back and waved at them both. Khan moved up behind him. Simon waited patiently behind them, beads of sweat running down the poor man’s face.

  “Forget the legs, aim at the body. They are like spiders. The loss of a leg does nothing to them. We kill the one at the door first.”

  Khan smiled that great wide beam he never showed, except when he was about to commit copious amounts of violence or engage in some form of physical contest with his brethren. He held up his modified shotgun and aimed it at the doorway. The engineer watched them both, doing his best to look confident, but his shaking hands and white face betrayed his true feelings.

  “Now!” said Spartan.

  The two moved for the doorway. Spartan took the right, and Khan moved to the left. Spartan took two steps and then cleared the door. Khan didn’t wait and followed right behind, but it was harder for him to move with the stealth that Spartan could manage. The command room was on two levels; the raised section further away and flanked by computer displays. One of the machines waited in the middle and turned to face them.