As the ship moved through the well-protected System, a second ship came through. This was a much larger CTC vessel, and a standard production model heavy hauler. It was an ugly vessel with a small habitation area, large engines, and the rest of the ship taken up with its wide rib beams and transport containers. Like Defiance, this ship also bore the company markings of CTC and appeared equally worn out and battered. At its flanks moved two relatively modern Helion constructed cutters marked in Alliance Navy Insignia. Once clear of the Rift, the Alliance ships turned back, leaving the pair of CTC vessels to approach the landing bays at the rear of the World Ship. An operative grunted a question.
"Sir, is it true? Are they really going to shut us down? Just for trading tech and equipment?"
Brody nodded.
"Yes, son, it's true. Those bureaucrats at Terra Nova have gone too far this time. Our agents report that in the next forty-eight hours, CTC will no longer exist. I don't have the exact reasons, but you know what they're like."
"Yeah," agreed another, "Anything will do, and then they'll take what they want, and share it with the reptiles and their friends. Always the same with the government, rotten to the core."
"And then back the wrong side in every fight. If you ask me, we should be giving these Byotai fascists a good kick to the head. All they're gonna do is drag us into another war."
Brody nodded along as he listened.
"You're not wrong. Reports from field agents show units already heading for our headquarters on Carthago, and our shipyards at Prometheus are under naval blockade, all under the pretences of a security alert. When word gets here, Taxxu will be locked down, and we will lose CTC's jewel."
"No chance," said Jenkins.
He clenched his armoured fists multiple times as though warming up for a major fight.
"They won't take Taxxu from us."
The youngest of the group stared in surprise as he tried to absorb what he'd heard. CTC was family to him, the place where his friends worked, and where his life was centred. The government on Terra Nova might easily have been in a different galaxy.
"Doesn't make any sense."
Brody smiled. "It rarely does. All money and politics."
He grimaced, as though about to release a great secret to the operatives.
"All we have to do is follow our orders, and keep moving one foot in front of the other. Now, to your gear, final checks."
One by one, the mercenaries checked their armour, weapons, and equipment. It was routine to them, and they conducted their checks with minimal thought. Some were ex-marines, but all of them professionals to the core. Their armoured suits were not factory spec units. They were customised pieces of equipment produced to order for this unit and contained elements from a dozen different combat systems. To anybody else, they had the look of antique fighting robots, but to discount them would be a big mistake. They were as tough as Alliance Vanguard suits and armed to the teeth with the best equipment the company produced.
"Ready," said the first mercenary.
Brody mentally marked him off on his status screen, and then looked to the others who took just a few more seconds. When they were done, they waited patiently and in silence.
"Those Alliance bureaucrats are acting illegally. They've declared war on the company and are planning on stripping our assets for their alien friends. We have friends and families that are counting on us."
He pointed to the distant World Ship and snarled.
"Their lackeys on that ship will be the first to turn on us, and intelligence suggests it could be a massacre. This is no simple nationalisation. They are shutting us down and asset stripping the company."
All eyes on board the small ship turned to the gigantic World Ship. None of them had seen it up close before, and now they believed everything they'd heard. It had more in common with a moon or space station than an actual ship. Another of the operatives sighed in frustration. Each had much more than just a contract with the company. They were also partners in the Corporation, with a stake in its future, like any other. Brody pointed to the wall of the craft, and an image of the vessel appeared on the one side.
"The plan hasn't changed. We enter the World Ship four levels below the training hall and get in fast. The second wave will spread out and create a diversion, while secondary teams will trigger charges to disable their primary defences."
His right hand moved closer to the wall.
"And that, my friends, is right where our target is."
"The Biomech?" Sanders asked.
Brody nodded.
"The Biomech is a liability. Today we change the management."
"Hell, yeah!" agreed Sanders.
She bumped fists with those nearest to her, and then began her mental routine to prepare for the coming battle. As her arm moved back, the white and silver gilt of her unit’s designation glinted under the artificial lights. The shoulder sections on the operatives carried their unit designation, the Silver Spears, while their chests proudly displayed the three letters of the Carthago Trade Consortium, the mega corporation involved in everything from research, transport, shipbuilding, and military manufacturing. The audio communications system activated, filling the cramped interior with its dull echo.
"This is Kha'Dri landing control. You're clear to land at Bay 5, landing zone Alpha."
"Affirmative, Kha'Dri. We're good to go. ETA, four minutes."
"Welcome aboard, Defiance."
Captain Dale twisted back to look at his passengers.
"Okay, we've been cleared."
He sounded relieved and perhaps even a little surprised they'd been granted access to the high-security location. Just thinking about their predicament put a smile on his face.
"We're one big happy family, after all. Now...four minutes and we're on the deck. Engineering teams are three minutes from their landing positions. Everything is good to go."
The Captain turned back to his controls inside the bulbous cockpit of the craft and started making final adjustments for their landing. Brody retook his place in organising the team.
"You know the drill. We hit the ground running. Cut off the head and the rest will die. We find this creature, and eliminate him before he can turn on our people. Thousands of employees are depending on us today. Don't let them down. Understood?"
The reply came as a chorus through innards of the small ship.
"Yes, Sir!"
* * *
Kha'Dri World Ship, Taxxu Prime, Centauri Alliance
This was the homeworld of the ancient Biomech enemy, and now the largest military facility in the Orion sector after the Admiral Jarvis Naval Station. As home to the Interstellar Assault Brigade, it was the forward base for the best trained and equipped military unit in the region, and a symbol of power and technological superiority in a troubled part of space. Hundreds of troops ran through their paces, while science teams and engineers continued their long and laborious task of harnessing the alien technology hidden deep inside the World Ship and the surrounding structures.
None of this mattered to the two warriors as they hacked away at each other with cudgels. It was the old arena, deep inside the Kha'Dri Worldship, and an audience of forty trainees watched on in silence. In the middle of the group was the battle-hardened and fully armoured form of Colonel Gun. He watched in silence, more interested in the fighting on display than the constant barrage of reports coming to him from the border. The sector was getting worse by the day, and still Orion Command would not authorise his use of force. As the two warriors separated, he stepped in and barked suggestions.
"Duck to the right, upper cut!"
Gun felt frustrated but did his best to mask his feelings. He was desperate to get away from Taxxu and to take the ships and troops with him, but they were not ready. ANS Titan was still twelve hours away from the Black Rift, and his remaining two ships were in dry dock, weeks from being ready for action.
One week, he thought as he looked up at the old vessel, Yes, one week and t
hen we leave, ready or not. I'll be there, Spartan. I promise.
Hundreds of Alliance marines patrolled the World Ship and the fledgling colony still under construction on the orbiting moon, called Z'Kanthu. Many more units from the IAB patrolled the facilities, private security forces hired by the CTC Corporation, protecting their own assets. Outside, in the cold vacuum of space sat four warships, each guarding the entrance to the Taxxu System against enemy ships, raiders, and corsairs. Another two Alliance starships waited at their moorings for replenishment before starting the long journey home.
All of that changed with the infamous 12th December attack, an attack that would be long remembered in the Alliance and beyond. Without warning, a low-yield atomic device detonated deep inside the ancient World Ship with a power and intensity that could have crippled a battleship. The second exploded at the heart of the docked Liberty Class destroyer, ANS Helios. So powerful was the blast it broke her spine and sent three large segments against the hull of the nearby Alliance troop ship, the ANA Jefferson. While the two vessels disintegrated, a third, and more powerful device detonated deep inside the Kha’Dri World Ship.
Colonel Gun, the famous Jötnar commander of the garrison, and second-in-command of the IAB snarled. He waited with his command staff, as the two lines of trainees awaited their orders inside the vast training arena. He was in the middle of his briefing when the blast ripped through the vessel. The blast was so powerful it sent a shudder along the spine of the massive vessel. Any conventional starship would have instantly vaporised in the blast, but the Kha’Dri World Ship had much more in common with a space station than a spaceship. Alarms sounded through every section as secondary explosions tore into the aft compartments. Even deep inside the vessel, and in the middle of combat training, it was no longer safe. Several sections of the ceiling broke off, and a series of gantries crashed down, narrowly missing the groups of trainee marines.
"Take cover!" Gun shouted.
The line of trainees scattered as the huge ship groaned under the immense pressures. Unlike him, they wore no more than IAB fatigues, although contrary to standard requirements, carried sidearms on their flanks. These were not raw recruits, but a mixture of the best recruits from across the new Alliance territories. Most were Humans from the Marine Corps, but there were also a handful of Helions, and even a T'Kari soldier, not that anybody could tell the two related races apart anymore.
A crackle in the distance piqued Gun's interest. He knew well the mixture of cause and effect.
Weapons.
Taxxu was probably the safest place in the galaxy, but also the most valuable. Vast amounts of alien technology lay hidden inside the World Ship, as well as on the moon and the scores of derelict ships orbiting in the System. Without doubt a goldmine to pirates, traders, and corsairs, but of even more value to those that understood its technological significance. There were advances hidden deep inside the region that when unlocked, could prove valuable beyond measure. The advance in artificial intelligence, computing, and interstellar travel over the last decade was all owed to the research carried out at Taxxu.
They can't have it, any of this.
Without thinking, he instantly pointed his right arm to the large armoured locker units fitted to the lower sections of the arena. They looked like massive storage bins, each fitted with an articulated door and heavy bolting along the sides. Gun had himself ordered their installation the minute trouble started on the border. Four trainees reached the first and slid open the hatches to reveal a line of cadet specification carbines. These were normal, first generation L52 Mark II Assault Carbines, but upgraded to Mark V gun sights and digital networking while having the special high-power mode deactivated. The removal was not a statement on the reliability of the trainees, but to remove the chance of heavy damage to the World Ship in a crisis. Next to the rack of weapons was a stack of short magazines, each containing ninety of the small, magnetised slugs used by the short coilgun carbines.
"Arm yourselves, prepare to resist."
One by one, they grabbed weapons and spread out, making space for others to take weapons. Gun remained where he was and activated his internal scanners. The suit contained a plethora of passive sensors capable of identifying threats though gas, smoke, haze, water, and heat. As usual, Gun wore his basic Jötnar specification PDS armour, though on his massive form it looked more like a suit of golden steel.
Over the last few months, the unit had gone through a number of changes. With more recruits coming in from the Helion territories, he'd decided to modify the colour scheme of the unit to match the more diverse character of their unit. Gone were the drab blacks and greys, and in their place, a golden patina that took on some of the yellowed and orange iconography used in the now disbanded Helion League. He believed it gave them all the look of metallic gods. The new colour lacked any useful degree of camouflage, but that was more than made up for by the increased solidarity of the unit. Gun wanted them to be seen, and for their enemies to fear them.
"Sir, what now?"
It was the newly commissioned officer, Lieutenant Yarmuk. The young man spoke with a smooth, clipped accent that was common among the descendants of the Syria region on Old Earth. Though inexperienced, he'd passed every single test and came out top in his graduation class. Gun smiled and then pointed to the main entrance of the area.
"Prepare your trainees...for combat."
CHAPTER THREE
3km West of Tanau, Southern Depression, Karnak
14 December 2472
The assault on Tanau might have ended weeks ago, but that didn't stop the fires from burning. Little remained of the seven aircraft, four of which had crashed in the immediate vicinity of the North sector of the city. The others were destroyed trying to prevent their capture. One Jackal had cut a deep furrow in the ground before becoming ensnared in the remains of an overpass. Chunks of masonry now fused with the craft’s hull due to the intense heat. Just weeks earlier, a number of aircraft had come down, and now the surface belong to the soldiers and clan warriors that had so recently turned on the Byotai.
Far below the surface, a small team of surviving soldiers waited and listened. They were part of the Exiles; that now hated group of soldiers comprising an odd mixture of Byotai, Anicinàbe, and half-breeds that had returned to reclaim this world. Now they fought alongside the Technos and foot soldiers of the Star Empire. For all their bravery and brutality, they were still Exiles and trusted little by either side.
There was no natural light; just a faint glimmer from a single emergency lamp one of them had left on, and each moved slowly, careful to avoid unnecessary sounds. The stench of fear was palpable this deep inside the hidden underground chambers well below the outlying suburbs of the ruined city of Tanau. Many were killed on each side, these seven soldiers all that remained of the hundreds of soldiers that had arrived. They had been filled with excitement at the prospects of ending the war in a single and final act of betrayal. The Byotai had fought back, and many small groups of Exile soldiers were now trapped and engaged in a long, drawn out battle for the city. After weeks of combat and disaster, these seven were left under the command of the half-breed soldier Artesi. The forty-four year old veteran sported just one arm, his left having been torn off in a roof collapse two weeks ago, and most of his armour lay battered or shattered from combat.
"Artesi, when will they get here?"
The bloodied and embattled commander of the small group looked to the soldier in the darkness. Luckily for the younger of the two, the dim light made it almost impossible to make out features on Artesi's face.
"Soon. Be ready. The Byotai have patrols in this area. The second they know we're here, they will strike."
Something growled in the darkness, and Artesi pointed to a prone figure.
"Silence him!"
A rifle swung through the air and then struck the figure. Again and again they struck until just the sound of heavy breathing from the attacker could now be heard.
"Keep hi
m quiet, or next time I'll silence you. Do you want to bring the Byotai and their mercenaries here? This creature is a prize that will guarantee our position in the new order."
One of the others muttered, and the mood of revolt was obvious, even to Artesi. They'd been down here a long time, and at any moment it could all end.
"One more word and I'll gut you myself. A new order is here. Do you want to rise to the top, or sink into the mud with the rest of the lightweights?"
"Listen, here they come."
Artesi ignored the dissension for a moment and strained his ears to hear the sounds. They lifted their weapons, and then the shapes were there, coalescing into a group of ivory-coloured troopers. A figure in grand, almost golden armour was at the front.
"Artesi?"
The Exile stepped forward and nodded.
"We are here, and as promised, we have the second-in-command of the mercenaries."
Decanus Seanoi sniffed the air as he looked at the filthy Exiles. They were little different to him and his own troop, except while they'd been trapped underground, Seanoi had been busy on the surface. Survival in this new order was based entirely on results. Birth, wealth, or status meant nothing. What counted was what an individual could bring to the regime. Even as he smiled at the Exile, he knew he had to stay alert. The Alliance mercenaries and their allies were a dangerous foe, and this far from their landing ground left him and his unit vulnerable. He'd come because of the encoded transmission, and because he suspected this was the kind of prize that could propel him forward.
War Zone (Star Crusades: Mercenaries Book 5) Page 5
