Star Crusades Mercenaries: Book 01 - Lords of War

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Let’s see what we can do.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Many still argue that there is little need for fighter pilots to train for close range combat. Missiles can destroy a target a hundred kilometres away in an atmosphere, and thousands of kilometres in space. Even so, in the hectic environment of actual combat, there are numerous examples of where the skill and agility of these men and women proved once and for all, that weaponry was just one of the components of an effective combat fighter. The great battle of Proxima, Euryale, and the Black Rift were just a handful where fighters made a difference. Guns and missiles retain their uses, even after hundreds of years of development.

  Fighter Combat for Beginners

  Maglev Rail Network, Khagi District, Karnak

  Spartan was on his back, and four Spires soldiers held him down. A fifth pointed a handgun at his face. This one had cast aside his robes so that his light armour was plain to see. Spartan tried to move, but unlike Vanguard armour, the M-3B was completely unpowered.

  All that gave him strength was his own muscles, and using just one arm he relaxed it, just to catch him off guard. One of the Spires soldiers lost his balance, and Spartan yanked him to the ground. The unfortunate warrior hit the ground headfirst and was knocked out cold.

  “I’m not finished!”

  Spartan tensed his arms and forced himself up from the ground. He didn’t get far, but it was enough to send the Spires soldiers into a panic. Another ran in to help, but Spartan threw him aside and tried to sit up. His stomach muscles groaned, but even the five of them couldn’t keep him down. The commander was completely bald, save for red tinted goggles covering its eyes. Then, and only then, did Spartan know he was facing a female Spires soldier. She raged at him, pushed the barrel to the metal of his helmet, and screamed.

  “Out of the way!”

  The voice was loud and amplified electronically. A metal leg crashed into the female commander, and she vanished over the other side of the rocks. The other soldiers turned their attention to their antagonist, giving Spartan just the time he needed.

  “Yeah!”

  He’d broken the neck of one Spire as he rose to his feet, before the metal machine blasted four of them with shoulder-mounted coilguns. One tried to run past it, but a second machine stepped in his way and cut him clean in half. Spartan grabbed a rifle from one of the fallen soldiers and looked up at the two machines. Dust swirled around them as they dealt destruction with their powerful guns.

  “Khan?”

  It wasn’t easy to see through the dust, but the shapes of two massive metal warriors encased in their customised Jötnar Assault Suits was an all too familiar sight. These were effectively airtight armoured bodies that encased the Jötnar. They were unpowered, but that was no issue for them. Unlike the equipment CTC had been working on, they looked more like crude medieval soldiers, but scaled up to the size of a mythical troll.

  Both were standing apart, their legs planted firmly to the ground. They opened fire with such intensity it felt like fifty soldiers were firing at once. Khan paused for just a moment and shouted via his external speakers.

  “Spartan, there’s something back there for you.”

  Khan then laughed, the sound of his voice booming out into the battle.

  “I don’t know how, but the ground drop work! I thought we’d be killed by the impact.”

  He pointed behind him to where the dust cloud was thickest. Spartan didn’t hesitate and ran past his friend, smacking his lightly armoured fist against Khan’s arm as he did so. A short distance behind were two more suits, one completely static, yet upright and waiting. The other was up the short slope to the track and had crashed into the train, and was half jammed inside it. Spartan moved to the upright one. As soon as he was within three metres, the front opened up.

  “The Maverick suit.”

  Shapes moved behind it, and he grabbed for his carbine. He pulled the trigger just as the first of the CD1 Grunts came right at him. He should have recognised the shapes, but for that brief moment they were just more Spires soldiers. The weapon hissed, but did no more, and as he saw what they were, he sighed happily.

  Out of ammo, just as well!

  Only then did it actually occur to him that they were friendly. Two ran past him, forming up on the flanks of Khan and Olik. They moved quickly and opened fire right away, with neither saying a word to him. Spartan shook his head in surprise and then stepped into the Maverick armour. At once his own armour connected to the control nodes with a gentle clunking sound, and he felt his limbs relax as the powered armour system took up the strain from his battered and damaged body. The adrenalin, mixed with the suit’s drugs had taken the edge of his injuries, but this was a much better way of keeping him in the fight. The overlay system connected to the other warriors as well as the Grunts, and even to the single dropship that was now out of sight. He took a step away to join the fight, and then remembered what had been happening prior to their arrival.

  Gun!

  Spartan turned around and clambered up the slope. He was an easy shot for the enemy from there, and shots were already striking his armour. The onboard computer tracked the approach vectors, and the automated left shoulder gun mount returned fire. Spartan didn’t even need to issue the command. It was a fully automated defensive measure.

  He looked left and right, finding his friend via the thermal imaging. Gun was leaning against the carriage, beset on all sides by Red Scars soldiers. General Daniels was on his back and firing a handgun, and there was no sign of Syala.

  Not good.

  “I’m coming!”

  Spartan began at a walk, increasing in pace and dropping down just metres away from his wounded comrade. Inside the armour they were now of a similar size and build.

  “Spartan!” Gun groaned.

  One of the Red Scars leapt off a vehicle and ran up to Gun with a pack of warriors. Most carried carbines and shotguns, but the leader had a massive harpoon weapon. The attack looked more like a beach assault; soldiers rushing up from their landing craft, except these landing craft were ground vehicles, many looking as though they’d been cobbled together in a scrapyard. The static providing covered fire for those in the open.

  “I’m here.”

  Without stopping, Spartan took aim and fired. The onboard computer automatically activated the right shoulder weapon mount that contained a single XHEC-1, a High Energy Cannon prototype that looked much like an upscaled XC1 carbine. The first round blasted out, leaving a green trail and struck the group. Three Red Scars vanished in the blast of heat, and two staggered away with horrific burns.

  “Yes!” Gun muttered.

  Faster! Spartan thought.

  Spartan waded into the group, swinging his fists left and right, butchering anybody coming in too close. Bodies crashed to the ground as they scattered at the sight of him. The enemy warrior with the huge harpoon weapon cleared the embankment, glanced at Spartan, and then took aim at Gun.

  “No!” Spartan shouted.

  He ducked to the right, smashed his fist into another soldier, and then jumped. It was a massive leap, and something he could never have done without the motor assistance of the Maverick armour. The metal lance rushed out and glanced off Spartan’s arm as he landed in front of his friend. He aimed with his arms and blasted more warriors, but the one with the harpoon launcher was gone.

  More Red Scars clambered up the ridge to the top of the track, and Spartan fired one shot after another at point blank range. The XHEC-1 was incredibly powerful but had a slow rate of fire. With each shot it became hotter and hotter, sending partially burnt flesh and blood all over his armour. Spartan tagged every target he could find, from the scores of Reed Scars swarming up the embankment to the dozens of ground vehicles still coming their way.

  “I need help this side!”

  Four of the Grunts moved into position, forming a loose line with ten metres between each of them amongst the wreckage of the train. The smaller robotic warriors took a
im with their standard issue L52 carbines, the weapon more commonly used in the Marine Corps. Though nothing as powerful as the weapons on the Maverick suit, they were still powerful and made short work of so many of the enemy soldiers. It was enough to keep the top clear for now, but did nothing to stop the overwhelming numbers still not yet in the fight. The robotic drones took multiple hits, but with no flesh inside them, they could fight until destroyed or disabled.

  “How badly hurt are you?”

  There was no response, and Spartan twisted around to check his friend, fearing the worse. Instead, he found an empty space. Gun was gone. Spartan swallowed uncomfortably and didn’t even notice as a rifle round struck his head. The armour sent out an alert, but luckily for him, the penetration only managed to open up a crack in the plating. The left shoulder mount had already tracked the aggressor and blasted away with thirty rounds. Spartan then saw Gun further back at the carriage, pulling at the crashed armour.

  “You fool. Keep your head down.”

  Rockets and projectiles rained down from all directions, and the continuous plinking sound of rounds bouncing off the Maverick armour reminded Spartan that just one could end this fight. He stepped back three steps but continued firing on the enemy. Now that the Grunts could handle the embankment, he turned his fire on the vehicles. The smaller ones were quickly crippled, but the larger ones had stopped a short distance away to create an improvised laager.

  We can’t hold this for much longer.

  Behind this furious assault more warriors were spreading out, trying to flank the defenders on both sides. Overhead a trio of Spires Hornets strafed the train. Some of the shots hit Red Scars soldiers, but at least one of the Grunts took a direct hit to the torso. It triggered a series of small blasts and left it a burning hulk. Spartan’s left shoulder mount automatically tracked the aircraft and hammered them with short bursts of coilgun fire.

  “I’m back,” said Gun in relief.

  Spartan watched as somehow the insane creature had pulled the JAS armour from the wreckage and dragged it upright. He clambered into the unit, and the weapons activated almost immediately. Spartan nearly laughed when he saw the Gatling guns fitted to the arms.

  “Just like old times, my friend.”

  That was the moment Khan and Olik withdrew to the train. They moved back, one step at a time, never turning their back on the hundreds of Spires soldiers. Spartan hadn’t felt as comfortable and relaxed for many years.

  In that single moment, all four of them were together.

  “Watch out!” Khan said.

  He ducked down as one of the Red Scars wheeled vehicles raced up the embankment and crashed into the side of the destroyed rail engine. One warrior leapt out and hit Spartan, sending both down the embankment.

  Dozens of Red Scars leapt out, but these were different to those before. They wore extra heavy armour, with plating on their arms. In their hands each carried a two-handed weapon. It was a combination between a glaive and a thermal shotgun. A CD1 Grunt took a blast from two of them before they charged.

  “Stop them!”

  Gun and Khan rushed amongst them, swinging their arms with the inbuilt semi-circular blades cutting deeply into them. At the same time, they blazed away with their firearms. Olik slid down the dust gradient and grabbed the fallen Spartan and forced him to his feet.

  “Fight, brother. It’s not over yet.”

  More soldiers ran at them, and Spartan didn’t even bother aiming. One shot after another from the XHEC-1 made a cruel mess of any that came too close. At that moment, the Red Scars shifted tactics and brought in massed gunfire from the scores of vehicles scattering the open space near the train. Guns, rockets, and missile systems all sent their deadly ammunition into the fight.

  “Alert, aircraft.”

  Spartan looked up. Two Hornets were coming in for a strafing run. He tagged them, and the computer began calculating their vector. He ignored the computer and fired two shots in quick succession. Both were perfectly aligned and destroyed them in bright green explosions. The wreckage came down on those trying to climb the embankment, instantly killing five more warriors.

  “Look, they are bringing more to the party. Are they insane?”

  Spartan looked in the direction of Olik’s arm. Two more armoured vehicles slid to a halt, and more of the heavily armoured Red Scars warriors leapt out. Behind them came a small group of three large animals the size of an Earth elephant, but reptilian and hairy. They were dull red in colour, with a dark pattern, almost like tiger stripes. The heads were large, and their mouths filled with deadly looking teeth. Among them was a tall individual, resplendent in coloured armour and severed hands hanging about his neck. He carried firearms in each hand and rode a creature like some ancient noble.

  “Yeah, looks like a commander to me. Either way, you’re not going to be leading for much longer.”

  Spartan laughed and shook his head. He’d never seen such a majestic looking enemy before, or one that seemed quite so primitive. He activated his primary weapon, but it refused to respond. The thermal overloads warning activated again, and he cursed loudly. He switched to the arm-mounted L52 coilguns. They felt puny in comparison, but it was enough to hurt them still. The creatures howled, a painful, agonising scream, and then charged at them like fleshy battering rams. Olik yanked backwards, twisted about, and fell over. A whole pack of the Anicinàbe warhounds leapt from the train wreckage and atop of Olik. They were ferocious, and soon he was buried under them, yet still shooting and stabbing.

  “Human!” hissed the commander.

  Spartan stabbed at the creatures around Olik, but his friend was on his feet and fighting back. Other Red Scars warriors clambered up to join the battle with Khan, while Gun appeared briefly at the top still firing, before he vanished again behind a group of warriors. This left just Spartan alone to face the Red Scars commander and his entourage of mounted beasts, and right now, he relished that opportunity.

  “Okay, alien, let’s do this.”

  They circled Spartan, the beasts snarling and snapping at him. He expected a close quarter fight, but instead the whole group opened fire at close-range. Even the Maverick armour had a hard time, and one of his blades and the XHEC-1 cannon was ripped from its mounting. His chest was hit four times before he could return fire. The L52 assault carbines did their work, and he blasted away at them while striding towards the enemy commander. The first charged hard into his flank, and he groaned under the impact. It was so powerful that even though he dug his feet firmly into the ground, he was still pushed back several metres.

  “Enough!”

  Bringing his right arm down, he swung upwards in a powerful uppercut that would have removed the head of any creature he’d met before. The impact hit with a crash, and the creature twisted off to his right. Seizing the opportunity, Spartan leapt ahead and took aim at the commander. He fired with both of the carbines on his arms, hitting the creature and rider with dozens of rounds. To Spartan’s surprise, the thing lifted up onto its hind legs and struck out at him with its strong limbs.

  “What?”

  He staggered back, as the thing in front attacked him like a boxer. The limbs struck as hard as siege hammers. To make matters worse, the rider leaned over and blasted his left shoulder with gunfire. He twisted to the right, putting the creature’s head between the two of them, and then took another blow to the centre torso.

  Spartan took two steps back and activated the hammers in his arms. The bulging lumps of metal pushed out where his hands were, instantly changing the shape of his arms into what looked like a pair of heavy maces. The creature turned back to face him; the other two moved in on each side. All the riders were sporting powerful looking guns, and they were pointing at his head. Spartan swallowed and adjusted his stance.

  Good times.

  He braced himself for the blows, but instead came a long, monotonous tone. It was so loud the nearest creature looked to the side for a split second. Spartan didn’t bother checking what it
was and charged forward at the beast, striking out wildly.

  “Come on!”

  He crashed into the thing and pushed it back three metres. This time he brought up one arm after another in a continuous series of blows. Each one groaned under the pressure of the impacts until finally the creature staggered and collapsed to one side. The rider leapt off, and the other two moved in to protect him. Spartan pointed at the hidden figure.

  “You’re next!”

  Again the horn blared, and Spartan used it as a signal for him to attack. This time the creatures were ready, and as he struck one, the other leapt at his flank, caught his arm in its mouth, and forced him down to one knee.

  * * *

  Kanjana took her eye off the forward view for just a second, but when she returned, it looked as though they would crash at any moment. Gunfire rose up around her from the forces on the ground, and the strikes sounded like the patter of light rain on the hull. She took aim at a column of four-wheeled vehicles and opened fire. The hull-mounted coilguns rattled away, sending a long burst into their thin armour. It was a short pass, but hitting back even once made her feel better.

  “Right, time to get this baby on the ground.”

  “Haywire, this is Arana, are you receiving me?”

  Kanjana was silence for a second.

  “I read you. What’s your status?”

  There was a short crackle, followed by the serious tones of Arana.

  “We can see you’re in trouble. Set your bird down at this location. We’ll take care of the rest.”

  A loud whistling sound cut the signal.

  “Damned jammers.”

  She checked the navigation screen and tagged the location. It was near the rail track, but closer to the Caldos side of the tunnels.

  Why does she want me to land there?

  Her gut instinct was to move as far from the scene of battle, but Arana was a known source, and she had spent time with the Byotai. Even though she had doubts, she used the last remaining power cells and changed the landing vector for the dropship. No sooner had she lined up when another stabiliser failed.