"Lay down your arms, Spartan," said the warrior, in barely understandable English.
Spartan laughed as he took aim at the figure. Multiple legionaries in the same coloured armour covered the officer, shielding him with their bodies. The wild Technophobes continued butchering any Byotai still alive. He looked at the commander and laughed one last time.
"Never."
Spartan let out a long breath and then fired. He did not stop shooting until the return fire ended his personal counterattack. Most of the bullets glanced off him, but enough punched through to his arms and body that he could no longer shoot. He staggered to the right, losing his balance before lurching over to Khan. Groups of Byotai ran past, many being shot down, others throwing down their weapons to surrender. They were offered no mercy, and the guns continued, butchering them where they stood.
Khan rose from the floor to find himself surrounded by more than a hundred of these new enemies. Spartan was there, bleeding from a dozen wounds, holding a knife in one hand and his machine pistol in the other. Khan activated the blades in the arms of the Blood Pack armour and prepared to fight.
"Are you ready?"
Spartan nodded.
"Good," said Khan.
The two lurched forward, heading towards the well-equipped and waiting enemy soldiers. With a single barked command, the entire line opened fire at the two figures, the final act of the bloody, and ultimately futile underground War of the Rats.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kha'Dri World Ship, Taxxu Prime, Centauri Alliance
More of the shapes moved about, their dull armoured skin reflecting the light like the skin of a snake. There were not many of them, but they opened fire without regard for their own bodies. Several mercenaries fell from the fire before the Thegns were silenced. More appeared from the furthest part of the vast chamber, but these stayed back and fired at long-range. Some of the mercenaries returned fire, with the bullets glancing off the equipment in a shower of flames and sparks.
"Don't hit the equipment!" Mr Walker yelled.
The system to the left started to power up, and it didn't take a genius to work out what it was. All around the spherical chamber more of the mechanical sections began to wake up. The process was slow and tortuous but served to encourage the operatives to increase their speed. Mr Walker's eyes shifted off into the distance where three much larger sections lay dark and dormant.
"It's one of them," said Brody, "They are being woken. We have to move fast. Ready the shock lances."
At the same time, another system began to emit steam. A long panel next to each of the areas flickered from left to right. There must have been at least a hundred marked points on the display, and as the seconds passed, so did the markings increase on the displays.
"They are close to twenty-five percent active already. Somebody warned them," said a technician.
"I don't care!" Brody shouted, "Ready your gear!"
The CTC operatives spread out, half moving to the outer parts of the massive enclosure, and the rest remaining near the entry passageway. Those at the back activated portable shield platforms that whirred and hissed as they expanded out into small barricades. Brody pointed back to where they’d arrived. Three of the heavy siege suits had just appeared. The battered-looking machines moved in, their heavy armour making a clanking sound.
"3rd and 4th Squads, back to the entrance and dig in. Don't let anybody inside."
Two of the eight-man squads turned back and vanished from view, leaving the others to prepare. As the operatives moved into position, a number unloaded equipment from the bustle racks fitted to the rear of the siege suits. Once on the ground, they activated the security seals and then opened up a series of large plastic storage crates. Inside was a massive device that looked a little like a machine-fed harpoon gun. One deployed it to his front. Two more carried power units that connected via wide tubes in the flanks of the unit to charge it. The gunner flicked a switch. A weird electronic sound pulsed from the unit, and blue energy crackled along its muzzle. After a few seconds, the other two moved away, and the tubes fell out.
"Ready and charged," said the operator, "I'm good to go."
Two more groups brought out similar weapons and proceeded to prepare them for battle. They were the secretive and experimental CTC Model SM225 Shock Lances. The devices were created over a decade ago to be used in the Biomech War, but arrived too late for combat units. They were so heavy, none other than the JAS and Vanguard armour units could use them. After years of work, CTC engineers had produced a man-portable version.
"Ready," said a robotic voice.
The nearest siege suit pushed its right arm forward, where instead of the heavy mantlet armour, it was equipped with a shock lance. The harpoon-shaped tip crackled with blue energy.
"Excellent, knock them out, now!"
The units moved ahead and towards the mechanical shapes that ran around the outside of the circular structure. Just as the first reached a machine, a long wailing screech filled the chamber. The operatives hesitated as the sound spread to each of them.
"Knock it out!"
Two of the squads rushed to the waking machines, slammed their units into the moving parts around the cylinders, and fired. More Thegns dropped from hidden positions in the walls and ceiling but were cut down by the vengeful CTC operatives. There were so many inside now, not even a hundred Thegns could have stopped them. Blue lighting flashed and crackled, followed by the slamming forward of the mechanical pistons as the mercenaries continued their work. The energy moved up through the systems, knocking out the control circuits until a single last pulse marked the shutting down of the system. As the operatives stepped back, Mr Walker let out a sigh of relief.
"And the others, hurry. With the control circuits down, they will remain in hibernation."
The siege suit and two more weapon teams moved in and struck the stasis controls, stopping the waking process before it could even begin. Mr Walker relaxed for a moment, but then felt his heart almost stop. The massive metallic cylinder in the distance lifted a metre from the ground and swivelled backwards to reveal a great arched entrance. It was easily four times larger than the route they'd taken in, and standing there, in the space were three machines. They were big, perhaps twice, or even three times the size of his siege suits, and unrecognisable to him. One of them, a dull yellow machine, lifted its arms in the air and emitted that terrible scream.
Three Maverick suits moved out to its side, and fifteen Grunts spread out in a loose line at the front. Brody moved to the mercenaries at the front and took aim at the approaching reinforcements.
"Open fire!"
Squad after squad opened fire, and it was almost impossible to see what was happening. Flames, explosions, and the whistle of missiles filled the great, sacred chamber with death and destruction. Mr Walker rushed back from his position and joined the large numbers of his comrades, roughly in the centre of the large open space. It reminded him a little of the training area and was of a similar size. The buzzing sound of machinery marked where the operatives were busy placing their motorised barricades, each of which opened up like the petals of a flower to create a safe place from where to fight from.
"Sir, over here."
Mr Walker stepped through a gap, and by the time he turned back around, a defensive wall was already rising up to a height of a metre. The same tools placed to his left and right, creating a temporary fortification approximately twenty metres long, and defended by more than sixty of his best trained and equipped mercenaries. Additional squads moved to the flanks, using the hibernation machines as cover, while others formed up around the heavy mantlet shields of the siege suits.
"We can win this."
He spoke to himself, but those close still heard his words.
"What was that, Sir?" Wilkins asked.
Keris Wilkins was a young mercenary, just transferred from the company headquarters on Carthago and eager to fight. She had joined the company not for the money, but as a
way of joining a local operation rather than going into the Alliance military. Many of the older colonies still resented central control from Terra Nova, and she was one of those young idealists. As she spoke again, her left arm ripped off in a mist of blood, followed by yet another volley that thudded into the defensive wall.
"Medic!" cried another.
Wilkins dropped to the ground. Two of her comrades helped stem the blood loss. Mr Walker looked above the artificial barricade, but the distant machines had vanished from view. Brody was there with a skirmish screen of no more than fifteen mercenaries. They were spread out and firing bursts at the enemy position with such intensity it could have been a hundred men. Shapes moved in and out around the walls, but the mercenaries were ready for it. Rifle fire ripped into the shapes, and the cannons fitted on the siege suits blasted holes in the walls, killing anything that came close.
"Finish off the machines. End them before it's too late!"
A rocket whistled overhead, narrowly avoiding hitting any of them before smashing into the wall. The bright light lit up the space and highlighted more units heading inside.
The Biomechs were closer now, and he watched with satisfaction as a tall, lithe machine fell to the ground, his teams stabbing at it with their shock lances. The machine's entire body writhed, as the weapon knocked it out, like a lion hit by a tranquiliser dart. A second lifted an operative high in the air, but before it could throw the man, another shock lance stabbed at its chest. Blue energy crackled about its body, and it staggered backwards, stunned, but still conscious.
"Hit them with everything you have!"
He started to smile, just as Brody split in half, his body replaced by the large mechanical hands of the yellow fighting machine. Parts of his body landed just metres away as the horrifying Biomech monstrosity broke through Brody's vanguard of mercenaries. In the middle of the attack was another yellow machine, and each time it swung its arms, body parts flew into the air. Mr Walker watched in terror as the thing moved back and forth, hacking and cutting with the efficiency of a slaughterhouse. He turned back and looked to his men cowering behind their prefabricated wall. They still had the numbers, but the mood changed as the guns fired. High velocity blades whirled, cutting bodies apart with ease.
"Kill it!"
Round after round struck the Biomech, and for all its strength and power, it was unable to get closer. The gun line of mercenaries was just too great. Hole after hole appeared in its armour until finally it crumbled to the ground. Grunts scrambled past it, but they too joined their godlike master. As more fell, the ground filled with bodies until just the Mavericks remained, along with two remaining Biomech machines. Mr Walker could feel his chest pounding, his nerves now at breaking point.
"Sir, reinforcements!"
A quick glance to the entrance confirmed the news as scores of mercenaries swarmed into the nerve centre of the World Ship. Mr Walker had almost given up at this point, but with his numbers increasing by the second, he felt something akin to relief. The responsibility for the mission was substantial, and the Biomechs were there, right before him.
Yes, this is more like it.
He looked ahead at the last of the machines and lifted his hand, sending the signal to cease-fire. This time it took longer until eventually every gun fell silent. Most of his people remained, the majority hunkered behind the wall or sitting on the flanks. Four Biomech machines lay on the ground, three unconscious and one shot to pieces.
While hundreds of bullets glanced off its armour, cannon fire from the siege suits tore off a limb, and it stepped back, its place taken by small numbers of Grunts and a handful of Maverick suits that must have been waiting. The machine at the far end took a step forward and then called out in the Human language, its voice lacking much emotion, but beautifully enunciated to sound like a young woman.
"Betrayer, traitor, murderer. This is the end of our relationship."
Mr Walker rose to his feet, but made sure he could duck down if need be. Smoke still drifted around, but the machine was visible now, the many marks along its body in stark view. He'd spoken with the leader of the Biomech rebels on many occasions, but not once had they left on bad terms. He almost felt apologetic about what had happened, until he saw the bodies of the dead littering the ground.
"On'Sarax. It doesn't have to be this way. Order your forces to surrender their weapons, and I will end this immediately."
"Leave me, now!"
A new voice boomed through the inner sanctum, and as he raised his head a little more, he noticed that although it was an artificial voice, this one was male. He'd never heard it before, but it was clearly one of the machines. The more it spoke, the more the language reminded him of recordings he'd seen.
"Leave you?"
"Yes," repeated the voice, "You will leave, or suffer an eternity of pain."
It took a second, but he was sure he recognised the voice from footage Spartan had shown them of the final days of the War, footage that had encouraged the odd agreement between the Biomech rebels, the Alliance military, and the CTC mega corporation to invest and develop this area.
"Z'Kanthu?"
Even as he said the name, he knew it couldn’t be right. The leader of the rebels had been killed by Spartan, of all people. The death was an infamous incident, and one that had tarnished Spartan's reputation ever since, even though it had clearly been a ruse to help end the fighting.
"No...it can't be."
More shapes moved to the front of the machine, including a Maverick armoured marine that must have arrived before the battle. It had sustained heavy damage and limped as it walked. The left foot dragged uselessly behind it, yet the weapons pointed straight at the CTC operatives.
"Do as he says," said the new arrival, "I got here before you, and we're ready. You failed before you even made it here. You think these machines will buy you any leverage?"
The Maverick marine twisted around and pointed to On'Sarax.
"Who are you?"
The question was aimed at the machine voice, but the marine misunderstood.
"The name's Lieutenant Yarmuk. Now, drop your weapons and end this. Trust me, this is a fight you can't win."
The machine voice started to laugh, a bone-chilling chuckle that rippled through the entire alien vessel, as if the World Ship itself was laughing at him.
No...no, it can't be!
He knew right away that the voice was indeed Z'Kanthu, but he could not tell where it came from. Guns rose up on both sides as they prepared for the last phase of the battle. He'd never considered it would have gone this way. He'd prepared for so long, and then it was ruined by the treachery of these machines.
"They are slaves of these machines. Fight, or be enslaved!"
They were the words of a fanatic and unlike anything he'd said before. In that moment, he spotted scores of people rushing in from behind his position. They were not soldiers or mercenaries, though all appeared armed. He hesitated, and that moment of indecision allowed them closer. Shots rang out, and two mercenaries fell down before the gunfire was returned.
"Fight!"
Behind these new enemies was a single armoured JAS suit, one he recognised in an instant. It charged inside, its Gatling gun blasting at his CTC operatives. At its flanks moved several of the Alliance Marine Corps Mavericks suits, while scores of workers, marines, and robotic Grunts surged past them. The terrifying laugh continued, and he looked back to see On'Sarax already among the barricade with marines and Maverick suits all around her.
"Stop her, bring her to the ground!"
Mercenaries swarmed around the large machine, stabbing with their shock lances or firing their weapons. Energy arced back and forth until to all of their surprise, she fell down, face first to the ground. One last pulse of light rippled from her armour, and then she was still.
"Yes!" Mr Walker yelled.
He walked to the fallen machine and pulled a tiny thermite blast charge from a pouch. With a single twist, it activated and attach
ed magnetically to the metal armour. Something else moved, and he pulled back just as a burst of fire struck where he'd been standing. To the right were four marines led by Captain Wilson. He took aim with his revolver and fired. The shot went wide and struck a wall. He tried to fire again, but the heavy single-action weapon confused him long enough for the marines to move from view.
"Walker, what have you done?"
He spun around and found the JAS suit right there, a metre from his face. The armour was scored in dozens of places, and several holes showed impact points along the chest. A clump of broken metal and wiring hung uselessly from a shattered weapon mount on one shoulder, while on the second a Gatling gun swivelled and pointed at his head.
"Commander Gun."
The armour hissed as the sunken head plate lifted away to reveal the face of the Alliance war hero. Compared to him, the Jötnar commander was a giant, yet even in the face of such adversity, Mr Walker showed courage and strength. He lowered his pistol and moved up to confront him, even as the soldiers on both sides continued to fight. A pair of mercenaries moved from the flank, but the cannon on Gun's shoulder swung around and cut them apart before moving back to him.
"Yeah, it's me. Your coup has failed. Send the order...now."
Mr Walker looked to his left and then to his right. Both sides were heavily engaged, but he could sense he still had a chance. Though they were evenly matched, most of Gun's forces were not professionals, and a good number were already falling back.
War Zone (Star Crusades: Mercenaries Book 5) Page 21
