Star Crusades Nexus: Book 05 - Prophecy of Fire

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Where’s the other one?” asked Simon, stepping in behind them.

  The two experienced warriors took quick aim at the machine and opened fire. Unlike conventional shotguns, these weapons released scattered pellets of superheated metal and ripped chunks out of the metal armor covering the machine. Spartan fired more slowly and took careful aim. Khan emptied the box magazine in less than three seconds. The engineer didn’t even have time to shoot before two of the machine’s legs had been blown off and its body shattered from a dozen impacts. It still twisted about and stumbled toward them, with two of the legs extended.

  “Shoot it!” shouted Spartan.

  Khan was reloading, and Spartan had just fired his last shot as it moved even closer to them. At this range, the shape was much clearer to see. The body was easily the size of a man’s, and the arms were like some metallic appendage torn from an octopus and fitted with pistons and curved blades. It hacked and stabbed at Khan, who instead of reloading used his shotgun like a club. He parried the first attack, but the second arm managed to embed in his upper right leg.

  “Damned machine!” he snapped in mock amusement.

  Spartan took a step to the side and finished fitting the box magazine when the engineer opened fire. His shots were wild, yet three managed to strike near the middle of the target. Each impact ripped a chunk the size of a man’s fist from the housing until finally a blue flash announced its death. Ripples of energy ran about its frame. It slid to the floor on lifeless, weakened legs. Spartan took aim, but it was over. The machine was now unable to continue the fight.

  “Great work, Simon...” Spartan said, a sly grin forming on his face.

  He turned to look at the man, and his face transformed as though some great magnet had pulled his features down to the floor. Right behind Simon was the shape of the second and last of the Biomech machines. There was no clear face, but its torso was upright and shielded by the form of the engineer. Three red shapes appeared, one in his chest, one in his stomach, and one in his throat. It took a second for Spartan to realize they were the razor edged tips of three of the machine’s legs.

  “Spartan, watch out!” roared Khan.

  He grabbed Spartan, yanking him to his left just as the machine withdrew its blades and stepped over the body of the fallen engineer. Spartan staggered and almost fell before crashing into one of the computer displays, sending glass flying.

  “Die!” roared his friend, throwing himself at the machine.

  Khan was nearly two and a half meters tall, slightly shorter than the larger of his people, but a veritable giant compared to a normal man. His thick, bulging muscles flexed as he grabbed the nearest limbs and tried to hurl the machine into the wall. They must have been equally matched in size, weight, and strength though. He was unable to move it. Spartan looked to his left, then right before spotting his fallen shotgun. He leapt for it, reaching out with his left hand; once again forgetting it was now nothing but a stump. Cursing, he used his right, checked the box and took aim.

  “Out of the way, you fool!” he called out.

  Khan tried to move, but he was locked in mortal combat with the machine and from the way it had twisted its metal limbs around him, he was unable to move. Spartan shook his head angrily and then ran back with the shotgun held up high.

  “Hold on, I’m coming!”

  He ran to the right of Khan, stabbed down with the shotgun’s muzzle pressed firmly at its body, and pulled the trigger. The recoil was substantial, especially when held in just one hand. At this range, the hole it burned went halfway through the thing’s body.

  “It’s still moving!” said Khan, crying out in pain.

  Spartan could see a red line running along his friend’s flank.

  It’s going to open him up, come on!

  He pulled the trigger over and over until the machine released two of the arms on Khan and flailed out at him. Spartan flew backward and landed hard on his back, the impact almost knocking him out cold. It was enough though and freed up Khan’s arms. He reached inside the hole, ignoring the smell of burning flesh as the superheated metal on the scarred housing burned into his fingers and wrist. He could feel tubes and cables and pulled and tore at whatever he could find. The machine seemed to shriek, and then it fell motionless, like some twisted metallic spider. With a few pulls and tugs, he dragged himself away from the machine and staggered over to Spartan. Blood dripped from a dozen deep wounds on his body. Something gave way in his leg, and he dropped down next to his friend.

  “You crazy fool,” said Spartan.

  Khan was in great pain, but the sight of the two smashed machines put a smile back on his face, a smile Spartan couldn’t remember seeing for many months. He lifted himself from the floor and looked for the sign of a medical kit. Luckily, there were small red signs in every room and passageway of the station. There was one near the door, and in just a few short seconds, he had the unit and ripped out a sealant package to help staunch the blood flow and block up the wound. As he applied the gooey material, Khan looked to him.

  “We did it, Spartan, two more machines down.”

  Spartan nodded and looked back at the case for a dressing.

  “How many more do we need to kill though?”

  As he fitted the dressing, Khan groaned a little. It wasn’t much, but if Khan made any noise, Spartan knew it must be hurting his friend a great deal. It seemed to take an age to patch him up, but finally his work was done, and the two just sat there, both of them physically and emotionally exhausted. Khan twisted his head, the pain returning as he moved.

  “It doesn’t matter how many are left, Spartan. We’ll find everyone of them and do the same to them.”

  Spartan looked back at the wrecked machines and blood all around them. He started to smile, then noticing the lifeless corpse of their newest friend, Simon, the engineer who had risked everything to help them. His smile to turned to a frown, and his forehead tightened as the rage returned once more.

  “You’re right, Khan. We need to finish this once and for all.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Alliance holdings at the start of the Biomech incursions into Helios were impressive, especially when considering humanity had only spread to two star systems a mere generation earlier. The eight planets of Sol were the old worlds of the Alliance, recently brought back under central control. Then came the thirteen rich worlds of Alpha Centauri and the equally successful eleven worlds of Proxima Centauri, all of these had formed the core of the loose Confederacy. In the last generation, the Alliance had grown to include fledgling colonies at the stars of Epsilon Eridani, Gliese 876, Procyon, and finally T’Karan in the Orion Nebula. Only through the use of the Interstellar Network was any of this possible, and it would prove to be the single greatest strength and weakness of the Alliance.

  A Concise Guide to Interstellar Travel

  A rocket whistled out from the defenders and slammed into a group of Biomech warriors. Two vanished in the flash, and a third struggled on with just one leg and a shattered left arm before succumbing to the gunfire of a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. Two more moved out from the cover to take its place and put down a hail of fire into the marines’ position.

  These newly identified fighters were known by their temporary disparaging nickname of ‘Tin Cans’, or ‘Canners’ for short, and had secured most of the base. Scores of them had dug in closer to the marines and now engaged in a bloody series of firefights that wore down both sides in a slow attritional battle.

  “Get down!” Jack cried out.

  His comrades had withdrawn to the safety of the shattered bunker that held almost a dozen marines. Two crew-served heavy weapon emplacements saturated the open ground that had turned to a deadly killing ground for both sides. The left wall of the bunker was now partially collapsed but still provided the most substantial cover around them.

  “What about the Bulldogs? I thought we were getting out of here?” asked Riku.

  Jack fired a single shot, doing his
best to conserve his ammunition and then looked to his right. He could see the lines of vehicles, as well as the black columns of smoke rising from the nearest six that had been destroyed in the last ten minutes.

  “Yeah, that was the plan. We need to create an opening, so we can try and get out of this place.”

  He looked back at the killing ground and the hundreds of flickering lights signifying the enemy that had dug in and were moving forward centimeter by centimeter. Arcs of fire crossed from both sides, but neither seemed to have much of an advantage.

  “How do we do that?” asked Callahan.

  The marine had taken one of the larger L56 Mark III heavy guns from a shattered gimbal mount on the bunker. It was heavy, but the slightly lower gravity on Eos made it easier to use, and the amount of fire the twin box fed, multi-barreled weapon was the equal of an entire marine squad.

  “Canners!” shouted Riku with her hand extended into the distance.

  Callahan tracked her hand and found the group. He pulled the trigger, and the five barrels fired one after the other, each sending a hypersonic round into the dirt, masonry, and armored bodies of the enemy. Three were cut to pieces before the other took cover. In answer to the gunfire, the warriors returned fire that slammed around the bunker.

  “Something needs to give. We could try a push,” suggested Jack.

  Riku and Callahan both shook their heads.

  “No way,” said Riku firmly, “You’ve seen how many of them are out there. There’s no chance in hell.”

  Private Jenkell lowered herself down from the damaged wall of the bunker and turned to Jack.

  “She’s right, Jack. If we go out there, it will be just like with the Lieutenant. It’s a no-man’s land now.”

  In answer to her point, a group of marines ran out from cover to grab one of the abandoned L56 weapons from a shattered Ram. They had started to move the thing into position when two of the warriors dropped into their trench.

  “Dammit!” said Jack as if he had been caught napping, “Canner, in the reserve trench!”

  He tried to get a shot, but the angle of depression made it impossible from where he was positioned. He was forced to watch as the combined firepower of the guns on their arms tore into the marines. Two were killed outright, with a third falling to the ground; five holes in his chest armor.

  “Medic!” An unidentified Naval crewman called out as he tried to drag the wounded marine to safety. One of the enemy warriors struck the man in the neck and then blasted him as he lay there screaming on the ground. Another pair appeared behind the trench and clambered over the top, finally giving Jack a target he could see. He tapped the firing mode selector and took careful aim. Just one squeeze, and the high-power shot put a hole the size of his fist in the creature’s head. It dropped backward lifelessly.

  “Fall back!” shouted one of the survivors, and they scrambled back, leaving the weapon in the pile of rubble and bodies. Three more frontal assaults had ended in the same manner as the dozens before them, and nothing looked as though it would change. Jack was desperate to make a move on the vehicle pool, but every time he plucked up the nerve to try, another group of the enemy moved into position and pinned him down.

  If we stay much longer, we’re dead.

  He lifted his head a tiny fraction to look at the group of enemy troops moving in to block them off from their only chance of escape. They dropped down into a sink in the ground that allowed them to move around their flank while staying hidden from gunfire.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  “Really?” replied a familiar voice.

  Jack checked the IFF system on his helmet overlay, confirming what he already knew.

  “Gun?”

  “I think you’ll find that’s Colonel,” replied the grizzled warrior.

  Jack checked for his position and spotted the green shape, but it was right in the center of the enemy position.

  That can’t be right.

  He popped his head up a little and winced as arcs of fire flashed from both sides. Nearly a hundred meters away walked one of the large metal machines. It moved slowly as it led the massive wave of troops for a final big push. Its gun sponsons fired heavy projectiles that shredded man and building alike. Around its legs swarmed scores of different warriors, every one of them the foot soldiers of the Biomechs. An explosion shook one of the massive machines’ legs, and then he saw him.

  Gun?

  The machine dwarfed the great bulk of the Jötnar, yet he and two of his surviving bodyguards were right in the middle of the enemy unit. Where they had come from Jack couldn’t tell, but they hacked and slashed at their foes until they reached the machine. Gunfire rattled away from their shoulder-mounted weapons, and then the impossible happened. Gun had clambered onto one of the legs and was working his way up the torso. The machine was as big as a Hammerhead gunship, but Gun treated it as though he was fighting a wild boar. One of his comrades tore off one of its legs, and it stumbled. Gun must have found an opportunity because he rolled off the machine, landed on the ground, and jumped up just as a blue flash tore off the armored head of the war machine. It dropped onto its haunches and just sat there, completely stationary.

  He’s for it now.

  The warriors around Gun and his guard completely surrounded them, yet as each of the creatures moved in to attack them, they were hacked down. Jack couldn’t believe what he was seeing in front of him. The three were like armored gods standing back-to-back in a triangle of flesh and metal.

  “Help them!” he shouted.

  Paying no attention to the approaching gunfire, he lifted up to the parapet and emptied what was left in his carbine magazine. The other marines did the same, trying to ease the pressure on their commander. Even so, scattered groups of the so-called Canners reached their lines, and bloody hand-to-hand combat filled the final two quadrants.

  “Jack, this is it. We can’t hold for much longer,” Callahan said bitterly.

  Riku and Private Jenkell covered the left of the bunker. Jack and Callahan had taken over the center when the Sergeant had taken a round to the face. Four Helions of the NHA protected the right even though they were clearly terrified of what was happening.

  “Jack, what the hell is that?” asked Riku.

  Jack refused to turn his head but could just about make out her arm from the corner of his eye. She was pointing out to the left, near where the old command bunker had been. A burning lander covered its partially collapsed roof. Out in the distance behind it was one of the shattered walls that had been breached early in the battle. There was no fighting in that part of the base, although a small number of the Canners were moving methodically through the ruins to look for survivors to finish off.

  “The prisoner!” she added in irritation.

  He followed the highlighted shape on his visor and saw the dark form. At first he thought it was a marine, but the long robe took him right back to the violent struggle with the Helion prisoner that had turned out to be a Khreenk. The warrior looked back in the direction of Jack before a group of five of the Biomech warriors leapt in to attack him. Three fell down from a weapon the Khreenk was carrying, and then he dodged to one side before finishing off the other two with some kind of blade.

  He could have killed me if he’d wanted, Jack realized as he watched the speed and ferocity of the fighter. For a brief moment, he could see the cold bands of his armor before the dust of battle obscured them. Just as quickly as it had started, the five warriors were dead, and the Khreenk warrior stood alone on the smashed wall.

  “What’s he doing?” asked Riku.

  “Who knows? Probably trying to work out a way to kill us before he leaves us to rot,” suggested Callahan.

  Jack looked back to the middle of the field and the large numbers of enemy that had moved closer to the marines. It was clear to him this wasn’t just another assault. They had positioned larger numbers than before, and they were massing at both the front and on the flanks. Even as Gun and his bodygua
rd continued to fight out in the middle, they were preparing for something big.

  “This is going to be their major assault.”

  He looked to Riku who shook her head.

  “We’re screwed then. I’m out, and half of the marines left are wounded. One rush and they’ll roll us up.”

  Jack shook his head angrily, grabbing a fallen carbine to check for ammunition. It contained a single half loaded magazine but was of an older type, with just two narrow barrels joined together over a single magazine. It wasn’t much but was better than no weapon. He flicked the lever to extend the spike bayonet. Riku seemed unimpressed.

  “Check your wide area overlay. Have you seen what’s out there?”

  Jack used his retina to select a different distance mode and almost choked at the aerial view from the drones. Markers identified the small number of remaining fighters, but there were still landers coming down all around the northern and eastern approaches to the base.

  “We’ve had it,” he agreed bitterly.

  * * *

  The formation of fourteen capital ships left a great streak behind them as they skimmed the surface of Eos’ thin atmosphere. The two Battlecruisers took the lead, with the rest strung out in a short column directly behind them. All of the massive ships used their primary engines and maneuvering thrusters to keep from being pulled down to the moon, without providing too much thrust so that they might rise in height and effectively slow down. There were no fighters anywhere near the ships, and only the tiny group of surviving escort ships dared to go any closer to the abrasive atmosphere of the moon.

  Genera Daniels waited patiently as one of his subordinates double-checked the strapping inside the Mauler. There were only three other marines inside the cavernous interior of the craft, and all four of them wore the new APS Alpha Armor. It was the first time the General had worn the gear, and he was pleasantly surprised at its ease of movement. He nearly forgot why he was there, but only for the briefest of moments. The craft shuddered a little, but the clamps held it firmly in place.