War Zone (Star Crusades: Mercenaries Book 5)

by Thomas, Michael G.

  "To your positions, covering formations, with a reserve twenty metres back."

  Another series of secondary explosions shook the World Ship, but this time the effect lessened by the inertial stabilisers. The artificial gravity system remained active, but with each fluctuation came additional howls from the hull, like the convulsions coming from a wounded soldier. Gun took a few short steps to a tall column that reached up to the ceiling of the training area. The trainees were better coordinated, and he began to feel a little calmer about the situation.

  "What the hell is going on?" shouted a trainee.

  Sergeant Palmer, a retired marine that had rejoined to help craft the new unit, moved to the front. He waited at the flank of Lieutenant Yarmuk and spoke in a calm, stern voice, something that seemed to come naturally to the NCOs of the Alliance. Lieutenant Yarmuk might be the one issuing the tactical commands, but as always, the individual operation and control of the unit fell to its experienced sergeants and corporals. The system had worked for millennia, dating back as far as the legions of the ancient Roman Empire.

  "Cut the chatter and fall in. This isn't the parade ground. Be ready for combat, now!"

  Gun sent the soldier a stern look, forgetting that his face was now hidden behind the metallic plating. The grim-looking deputy commander of the Interstellar Assault Brigade looked around as parts of the ancient vessel tore apart and crashed to the ground. Gun was no stranger to violence, but this was completely unexpected.

  "Watch your corners, and listen to your sergeants. This is combat, and people will die. Make sure it's them!"

  Even Gun couldn't hide the smile forming on his face. Though many of the trainees were experienced marines, there was still a strong core of inexperienced, albeit highly qualified individuals among them. The first exposure to actual combat and violence was the test, and he'd seen more than his fair share of failures. Some had called the experience seeing the elephant, though Gun had never actually seen one himself.

  Not bad, not bad at all.

  A single squad of Alliance marines rushed in from a side door, their faces hidden behind their visors, and their weapons drawn. These were regulars, and still sporting their grey PDS armour. These were the front-line warriors of the Alliance; trained and equipped to fight on land, in space, and even in a vacuum. Their armour was sealed and tough enough to withstand a direct hit from the most common weapons of the day. One bore the markings of a captain, and Gun immediately recognised him as the commander of the deck's garrison unit for the day.

  "Colonel, it's an attack. We have to move you."

  Gun deactivated his faceplate to look at them with his own eyes, instead of the enhanced imagery of the armour. All of them panted, and it was obvious they must have raced to find him, even amidst all the trouble on the World Ship. Gun snorted as he listened; still not convinced he needed to leave his cadets.

  "Who is attacking us, and where are our ships? Nothing should be even close to this facility."

  He then pointed off into the distance, from where the marines had just arrived. As he spoke, the sound of shouting from distant figures drew his attention to the possible threat.

  "This isn't possible, Captain, not here. If we are being attacked, then it has to be from our..."

  Before he could say more, Gun spotted movement at the entrance. It wasn't much, but the shapes were an immediate giveaway. They were not fleeing danger, neither rushing to help out any of the others. Gun's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and without saying more, instinctively activated his visor. The metallic unit lifted up, completely sealing his face behind the layered armour. Any loss in periphery senses was immediately replaced by the same enhanced audio and visual imagery fitted to all Alliance armour systems. As well as the optical cameras, there was also a fully featured sensor suite, networked to any tactical units close enough to be in range.

  There!

  Gun braced himself as the distant guns opened up. A shot glanced off his helmet where his forehead had been a second earlier, and then another struck his shoulder. More primitive armour would have failed, but the angular plating and reinforced joints of the Alpha X range of PDS armour, combined with the extra bulk for Gun and his kin, proved its worth. Another hit his upper arm and actually tore off an outer plate, exposing the thinner material beneath it. Gun started to move, conscious of the fact that a moving target was one less likely to be hit. He signalled for the marines to scatter.

  "Colonel, we have..."

  A much brighter flash marked the firing of a more powerful weapon, and Gun by instinct sidestepped. The Captain's head exploded in a bright flesh, sending metal, bone, and blood in all directions. Two more marines were hit in the back, and further shots struck about the group of trainees as a large squad of heavy armoured soldiers rushed inside. The visor drew their outlines on his system. They were wearing untagged armour and carrying heavy weapons.

  Traitors.

  Gun lifted his rifle from its mount and pulled on the safety. As always, he selected fully automatic fire, confident in his ability to control the fire when needed. It was now known retroactively as the C48 carbine, a modified version of the old Confederate-era weaponry to fit the large hands and limbs of the Jötnar. Its new housing case, altered grips and trigger, plus the half-length barrel, made it perfect as a carbine and what was needed as a sidearm for the oversized creature. Though still a big weapon to most marines, in Gun's hands, it looked tiny yet still terrifyingly dangerous.

  "Fight!" Gun yelled.

  Standard doctrine on Alliance facilities was to adopt a fight, barricade, or flee methodology in such a crisis. It was the standard response to a terrorist attack, and equally suited to any other form of armed assault. Gun could see they were in a dangerous situation, and in this arena there were very few places to hide. Sometimes it was modified for combat scenarios, but for the last week had been left open for combat drills.

  There!

  Two enemy soldiers moved to the right, and for a second, one was a clear target. Gun squeezed the trigger and released a burst of three 12.7mm explosive shells at the soldier. The first two struck centre mass, the third glancing off the armoured chest plate. The soldier staggered and then moved from view, still walking. Gun was surprised and mildly curious as to how the soldier was still standing. One squad of the trainees began to move further back to cover, but Lieutenant Yarmuk moved to the front and waved his carbine in the air.

  "Suppressing fire, push them back!"

  Five trainees formed up around the young officer, while more joined Gun, keen to do their part. Young and old alike stepped into position, with their carbines ready and began firing. They took their time, and using disciplined fire managed to unleash an impressive volley right on target. More rushed to join their comrades as the fire intensity increased all around them.

  Excellent.

  Gun moved towards the battle, specifically to engage the squad moving to the right. Gunfire lashed all around, and he spotted warriors on both sides cut down by the vicious firefight.

  "To the entrance!" shouted the Lieutenant.

  The surviving thirty-four trainees broke from cover just as the enemy emerged to attack. One trainee fell, but the return fire was deadly. A single enemy soldier remained, and as he hesitated, a short burst struck his face.

  "Good work!" said Gun.

  He moved to the fallen enemy and pointed to key parts of the area.

  "I want fireteams on the flanks, and a dug in unit to cover the entrance. Lieutenant, get a unit to check the wounded."

  As the trainees moved about the bloody field of battle, Gun approached, and then stopped at the fallen enemy. There were not many of them, but he recognised the angular design of the armour before he even saw the logo on the chest. As he straightened his back, Lieutenant Yarmuk arrived at his flank.

  "Sir, we've got five dead and twelve wounded, some of them seriously. I thought that..."

  His voice trailed off as he spotted the markings on the armour.

  "CT
C?"

  Gun grimaced. "Yeah, Company men. This is an inside attack."

  The massive World Ship shuddered again, and Gun checked his internal communications system. There was nothing active for the command channel. A few compartments of the ship showed as connected to the network. He scowled as the menu scrolled to show system after system offline. At last he reached something that seemed to still be working.

  "The dorsal communications array, it's showing as still operational. We have to use it, fast. With this facility compromised, we are weak out here, and I can promise you, somebody, somewhere will take advantage of this."

  Just thinking about it made him even angrier. Princeps Tahkeome and his minions were busy carving up their new Empire, while gutting the old Byotai Empire. And now CTC were hitting the Alliance from the inside. It all left him feeling a little numb.

  "We have to reach the communications system, and fast."

  The officer looked confused. "From here?"

  Gun gave a slight shake of his head.

  "No, the internal networking system here is completely offline. CTC know this place as well as us. We need to get there in person."

  The marine shook his head.

  "What good will it do, sending one message? We need to get you out of here?"

  A shot flashed past Gun, but he chose to ignore it and concentrated on the marine, pointing at his chest.

  "Lieutenant, I'm not looking to send an SOS."

  The man looked confused. "I...uh...I don't..."

  Gun laughed.

  "ANS Titan is coming through the Rift in less than an hour, and when she gets here, I intend on using her."

  "To escape, Sir?"

  Gun sighed.

  "No, I intend on ending this fight before it can begin."

  "Understood, Sir."

  They made it three steps when a loud squeal filled the arena hall.

  "Colonel, we've got trouble."

  It was Sergeant Palmer, and he sounded worried. Gun twisted around his armour and spotted the man positioned a few metres from the grand entrance. In the past, the space had been used for all kinds of nefarious activities, and the entry point had housed the long lines of warriors, sacrifices, and war machines.

  "Can you..."

  A white blast vaporised the marine, turning his armour into molten slag. A trainee dropped to the ground, his screams filling the arena. Gun grabbed him around the throat and lifted him to his feet.

  "Stand and fight, marine!"

  The poor soul uttered a few more sounds, then stopped, picked up his weapon from the floor, and ran to his comrades. Gun nodded with satisfaction and then scanned the distant opening for targets. Gun and the other trainees opened fire, saturating it with carbine fire. Out of ammunition, he dropped the magazine and loaded in another without even looking at the weapon. He fired again, but a warning alert showed another group coming in through the same entrance. A trainee had tagged it, and the data sent to all networked units in the arena. Gun hesitated upon seeing the large bipedal form of an armoured suit. It was big, at least the size of a Vanguard suit, yet there were differences that he didn't recognise.

  "Commander Gun. Lay down your arms."

  The sound wasn't coming from in front, and that surprised Gun. He took aim, fired at the suit, and then moved to the left where a group of trainees was now prone, yet still blasting away. Shots clattered about them, but their return fire was heavy, and very accurate.

  "No more have to die, Gun. Lay down your weapons now!"

  The doors dropped down with a loud thunk sound, and every single light cut, leaving the area in total blackness, with just the muzzle flashes of a myriad of weapons lighting the way.

  Who is that?

  The gunfire faded as fast as it had begun, but Gun was wasting no time.

  "Switch imaging, take cover at the sides!"

  In a fraction of a second, the vision mode of his visor changed. By using a mixture of thermal and infrared, his vision was almost as good as with visible light. Many trainees were down, but a good number remained on their feet and rushed to the sides of the arena, where seating was interspersed between the columns and occasional pieces of ancient Biomech sculpture.

  "Commander, what now?"

  Gun didn't bother looking to his left. He knew the Lieutenant's voice well enough by now. What really caught his attention was the sound from the internal speaker system. It took another few seconds before he realised who it was, and the shudder through his body shook him from head to toe.

  "Clarence Walker!"

  A single light flickered on above and expanded to highlight the central circle of the arena. It gave the effect of an ancient arena, but this time the place was only populated by the dead and wounded of the trainees.

  "That's right. Command personnel have already surrendered. CTC is taking over control of Taxxu. Lower your weapons, Gun. It's over."

  Gun lifted his eyes and stared up into the domed ceiling. His vision centred on the bright light, and without hesitation, he fired a burst into the unit. It exploded in spectacular fashion, scattering debris that crashed to the ground.

  "With me!"

  Gun broke from the open ground and to his right where several side entrances led off into the World Ship. Two were service elevators, installed to allow heavy equipment to be loaded into the arena for training operations. By the time Gun reached it, another thirteen trainees were waiting there for him. All but one carried a carbine, and they seemed eager. Gun smiled to himself upon spotting two of the sergeants, plus Lieutenant Yarmuk who pointed inside the elevator.

  "What now, Sir?"

  Gun shook his head. "No, not that way. Follow me."

  He stepped to the side the elevator door and struck his fist again at the metal plating on the wall. A section pushed in, and when he used his shoulder, the doorway swung open to reveal a large, dark, square room.

  "Service tunnels. I knew they'd be handy one day."

  Gun indicated for them to move inside, and they rushed into the blackness until only he remained. He checked behind for any others, and sighed as three ran across the open ground, then to be cut down by rifle fire. The shape of the heavy combat suit came into view as it marched through the area, weapons blasting away. Gun felt a deep-seated urge to turn back and attack the thing, but he could also see the platoons of armoured troops moving in behind it.

  I'll be back, and when I do, all of you will burn!

  Gun pulled the door back and turned his back on the battle, doing his best to ignore the sporadic sounds of gunfire. Two trainees tried to open it, but he blocked their path.

  "They are buying time. We have a job to do."

  The group moved further inside the shaft before coming to an intersection joining back into the World Ship's main passage system. Dim lights bathed the place in low-level yellow light. They waited in the centre, pushing up to the wall to use any piece of cover they could find.

  "There!"

  The voice came from nearly a hundred metres away and was followed by a burst of rifle fire. The trainees returned the shot in kind, while Lieutenant Yarmuk signalled to Gun.

  "Sir. The route to the dorsal section is to the right. Is that the plan? It's gonna take at least an hour to get up there."

  Another volley struck, each bullet tearing small holes in the metal floor. Pieces of the thin plate flew apart like clumps of masonry. One round glanced off Gun's shoulder armour and embedded in a wall. Gun snarled and lifted his own weapon and blasted away. He could have kept shooting, but no sooner was one target knocked down, when two more would take their place. He was running out of marines, and fast. It didn't take much for him to turn his thoughts back to what needed to be done.

  A few more minutes, and this is over.

  Gun licked his lips, but his mind was already running through the dozens of potential permutations.

  Even if we reach the dorsal section, will sending a message make that much of a difference?

  "Victorious!"

 
; "Sir, what?"

  Gun opened his visor for a brief moment and leaned in towards the young man. His face contorted, but Lieutenant Yarmuk was convinced the synthetic creature was actually smiling back.

  "Get to the Victorious, and fast. Pass the word, but don't use comms. They must be compromised."

  Lieutenant Yarmuk hesitated for no more than a second.

  "Victorious. Uh...yes, Sir!"

  He then moved away to the other trainees and passed on the word. Several repeated the name, but not one of them questioned the suggestion. The names of the three partially completed Confederate class ships were well known to all on the World Ship, as they'd been under construction for months. CTC and the Alliance Navy had co-invested in their construction, and at great cost.

  "Let's go!"

  And with those few words, the remnants of the training squad moved off into the bowels of the ship. These were not secret paths or tunnels, but one of the many different routes through the massive structure. Some had likened the World Ship to a satellite, or even a dwarf planet, due to its incredible mass and hidden levels.

  "Commander!"

  Gun paused as a four-man IAB unit rushed out from a side door. A single shot struck one in the shoulder and then again in the flank. The unfortunate man spun around before hitting the wall, a burning hole in the middle of his back.

  "Covering fire!" yelled a sergeant.

  A small group of trainees leaned around the doorway and opened up with a heavy volley. The enemy dropped back, but not before two were hit by the carbine fire. The dying marine rose from the ground and deactivated his visor. His face was white, and blood bubbled from his mouth.

  "Sir, CTC mercenaries. They are everywhere. They want the ship. Get..."