Star Crusades Nexus: The Second Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

“What about those fighters?” asked the leader of the Thunderbolts.

  “Maintain course, slide but do not veer from this course.”

  The formation hurtled onwards while Biomech fighters attacked from all directions. They couldn’t change direction during their attack run, but they could alter their heading for brief moments before returning on their course and firing their engines once more. Gunfire rippled about the formation, and the Mauler provided continuous gunfire from its multiple turrets. A dozen enemy fighters were downed for the loss of just one more Lightning, and then they were close enough.

  “All wings, launch now!”

  Each of the Thunderbolts launched their remaining missiles while the Mauler launched six heavy torpedoes, each the size of a fighter’s engine unit. The weapons took only a few seconds to reach their targets, yet the Alliance fighters had already broken from their attack run. More Biomech fighters pursued them and even managed to bring down some of the missiles. It wasn’t enough, and the volley of weapons struck two of the Manta warships, followed by a blinding light.

  * * *

  Lieutenant Vitelli watched the dotted lines as weapon trails from the fighter wings moved to the Biomech ships. Several of them flickered, vanishing as defensive weapons destroyed them. Each missed attack sent a shiver through his body. Finally, the surviving missiles and torpedoes struck their target, and he smiled with satisfaction as the data came in.

  “Yes!” he stated, a little too excitedly. He looked over his shoulder to see Admiral Lewis looking back at him.

  “We have good impacts, Admiral,” said Lieutenant Vitelli.

  Admiral Lewis watched with a brief glimmer of happiness on his face. The missiles and torpedoes from the fighter wings had removed the weapon emitters from five of the enemy capital ships, and two had been completely destroyed by the powerful blasts from torpedoes. The ships were now intermingled, and red indicators flashed across the tactical display showing where his ships were taking fire. He tried to avoid spending too long looking at them. He had a battle to fight and worrying about individual details would help nobody. What concerned him most was that the smaller Biomech ships were amongst his own vessels and showed no signs of stopping.

  “What is our status?” he asked quickly.

  “Four of our escorts are lost or out of the fight. One Crusader is abandoning ship, and two more will be joining her soon.”

  Seven ships from twenty-one. We can’t keep going like this.

  “And the enemy?”

  Lieutenant Vitelli pointed to the shapes on the tactical display.

  “Nine of the Biomantas have been destroyed, and half as many have lost their primary weapons. Seventeen remain, but they are bypassing us and continuing on to Eos with the remaining landers. There’s another ship behind them as well. Our database says it’s a Ravager class, some kind of heavy carrier. That must be where their fighters are launching from.”

  Damn it!

  He had only two choices, and he liked neither of them.

  “How many of the landers have they lost?”

  “A quarter, Admiral.”

  The ship shuddered, and the schematic showing the complete ship on the right of the CIC showed multiple sections in red.

  “What the hell is happening?” he growled.

  Lieutenant Vitelli changed the mainscreen to the rear of the enemy fleet as it moved through the Alliance line and on to the moon. A large group of ships had stopped and were waiting like a line of sentries.

  “The Biomantas, Admiral. All seventeen are standing their ground, and the Ravager has moved into the center of their formation.”

  The bastards, they are trying to stop me interfering with their attack.

  “Crusader is taking fire. They are spreading their attacks against the entire fleet. Casualties reported on Serenity, Victory, Valor, and Sentry.”

  I have fourteen ships, all damaged, and they outnumber me. Do I stay, or do I signal the retreat?

  * * *

  “Jack!” he roared with a bellow.

  “You know each other?” asked Lieutenant Elvidge.

  When they had finished their rough embrace, Gun looked to the officer. He stared at his face and then gave the man a cursory glance from top to bottom.

  “You could say that.”

  Gun took a few steps back and waited next to his tactical map of Eos.

  “Jack and I, along with his family, have spilled more blood than I can imagine. How is Teresa?”

  Jack let out a slow sigh, but he was clearly starting to relax.

  “My mother is recovering well. She should be back with the 17th shortly.”

  “Good…How is the unit doing? You know you should be in my battalion.”

  Jack laughed at the suggestion.

  “And be under the command of my own mother? Hell, no!”

  An orderly brought them water, and all four snapped it up eagerly. Gun looked back at the tactical map for a moment. He was clearly happy talking with his old friends, yet there was something about him that surprised Jack. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

  What’s wrong? Wait, is he excited about something?

  “Gun?”

  The towering warrior looked to him and raised the corner of his mouth slightly. He moved a little closer to the tactical table and tapped a button. It showed the entirety of the base, as well as all the land around it for five hundred kilometers.

  “As you know, we’re the main military base on this rock, but we have four smaller forward bases further south, with one quite close to your patrol earlier today. Do you know how many marines and soldiers that is?”

  Jack had no idea, but Lieutenant Elvidge seemed to.

  “Uh, about five thousand marines and at least five times that number of NHA.”

  Gun looked at the officer with an expressionless face.

  “Not bad. Most of our marines are running patrols and training alongside their new recruits. They haven’t been at this long though, and less than half have spent more than a year in the old Narau Army. I’m curious about them, are they as you expected?”

  Jack placed the water down, and the orderly removed the canteens to refill them.

  “No, they are not. About half are Animosh. You can tell from their skin tattoos and the gear they use. The others are a weird mix of refugees, outcasts or idealists from the other factions on Helios.”

  “It’s true. Many of those in the minority groups on Helios are now losing money, favor, and influence since the Zathee were granted equal rights.”

  Gun shrugged at this.

  “Tough luck, I say.”

  Lieutenant Elvidge stepped closer to him.

  “Perhaps, but we end up having to clean up the mess. They need to be involved in the political system back on Helios, or we’ll end up with the reverse situation, a place where the minority is well financed and assisted to turn against their own people and government. This could go on for many years.”

  The airlock hissed open, and in walked four marines from the second Hammerhead, along with a prisoner, the Helion Jack had fought with so hard back in their small battle.

  “Remove his protection,” said Gun with interest in his voice.

  Callahan, Jack, Riku and Lieutenant Elvidge stepped back to the Colonel while the other marines removed the Helion’s restraints and facemask. There was an audible gasp from Riku as the mask and its inbuilt respirator was removed.

  “You’re Khreenk!”

  The alien looked at him with yellow eyes but said nothing. His cloak was pulled away by one of the guards to reveal the hidden shape beneath it. The alien refused to move, and it fell the floor around him. Underneath the cloak was a bizarre set of armor that looked as if it had been assembled from a dozen different sources. The breastplate was golden and well fitted while the waist was protected by thin bands that coiled about him. His legs were encased in a dull iron colored set of plate sections, and a black collar ran around his neck and down into a gorget that vanished behind the breas
tplate.

  “We saw the guys on Helios. They’re Khreenk mercenaries,” said Jack.

  Gun seemed to be in agreement and walked about the alien, as much interested in him as he was by the armor.

  “Do you understand me?” he asked slowly.

  The alien’s yellow eyes seemed to twitch as he watched Gun move about him. Finally, Gun returned in front and stopped to face him.

  “You and your people are responsible for the deaths of eleven marines so far. What do you have to say?”

  One of the screens lit up with a flash message. It was secure, but Jack was all too familiar with how the system worked. Gun walked to the screen, looked at it for a few more seconds, and then returned his attention to the alien. Now he seemed only mildly interested, as if something else was holding his attention, and Jack could only assume it was the message. He wiped his mouth, and Jack could tell something bothered him.

  “What is it?”

  Gun looked at him and considered his words for a few seconds before speaking to his guards.

  “Take this…alien to the holding cell. We will speak shortly.”

  He then waited, saying nothing until the airlock seals were closed and the place only occupied by Alliance personnel.

  “I…we have a big problem. You’ve heard about the comet that is passing this moon?”

  All four of the marines nodded in unison.

  “It looks like our Biomech friends have been hiding either on it or inside its cloud of debris. Several hours ago, a formation of over a hundred ships broke free, and they are heading this way.”

  “What?” Lieutenant Elvidge asked before the others could speak.

  He walked over to the tactical display and made to touch one of the buttons before stopping and looking at the Colonel.

  “May I?”

  Gun nodded and then looked to Jack.

  “Admiral Lewis just sent out a flash communication to all Alliance units in the Eos Sector. It’s not good news either.”

  Of course, it isn’t! Jack thought impatiently.

  “Well?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was speaking with the senior ground commander on the moon. Gun was far too preoccupied to waste any time on complaining or reprimanding him. Gun beckoned for them to come with him.

  “They have already broken through the fleet. The battle is ongoing, but all we need to know is that there are more than fifty vessels and they are heading for us.”

  He moved to the table where the Lieutenant was busy looking at the shapes that represented combat units. Green and blue identified the many Helion and Alliance units over the moon. Gun pointed at the red markers along the top of the table.

  “According to the Admiral, the first Biomech landers will enter orbit very soon.”

  He then moved the map slightly to show the areas controlled by the Alliance on the moon’s surface. The airlock hissed open, and in walked a Major and a Captain; the niceties of saluting brief before the Major spoke.

  “Colonel. All units are either dug in or have found areas to relocate. We’re ready for whatever is coming. I have your personal Hammerhead fuelled and ready to leave.”

  Gun did not look impressed.

  “Leave? I don’t think so, Major.”

  “But Colonel, it is standard…”

  Gun lifted his hand to stop the discussion.

  “That is enough. If this is to be our first standup fight with these things, then I will be here when it happens.”

  The Major looked as though he was about to speak again, but Gun’s raised left eyebrow seemed to stop him. The man relaxed his shoulder a little and changed tack.

  “I have already sent out alerts to all our bases. According to Intelligence, we can expect to lose communications at any moment, however.”

  Gun sighed.

  “Yes, interesting how that always seems to happen just when they might be useful.”

  The younger Captain moved to the tactical display and indicated toward it with his hand.

  “Sir?”

  Gun nodded at the officer. He was in his late twenties and somewhat highly strung. Even so, the man was considered the best analyst in the unit. He changed the display to one of the moon’s orbit.

  “You can see here that half of these craft are on a direct heading for our Fort. The rest are going for our other bases in the south, as well as the major Helion compounds, cities, and industrial sites.”

  He looked back at the group who seemed unable to comprehend the enormity of what he was saying.

  “They will be here soon.”

  Jack looked at his old friend and thought the concern about what was to come was obvious. He could also see the fire and excitement in his eyes. He doubted it was just the possibility of combat. Gun had a personal interest in a fight with the Biomechs, his tormentors and his creators.

  The crazy bastard, he’s looking forward to this.

  “What do you want us to do?” asked the Major.

  Gun then crashed his hands together, making them all jump.

  “It is time, marines. Sound the alarm. I want them to feel pain before they even hit the ground.”

  More marines entered through the airlock. At the same time, the emergency sirens started up across the base. They started off as a low drone but quickly increased in volume until reaching a continually rising and falling tone.

  “To your posts, marines. You have the plan; it is a simple one. We fight and defend our territories until relieved.”

  The dozen officers now in the command center moved to their posts where they could best manage the battle itself. Gun waited at the tactical display and watched, saying nothing for a moment. It showed every single unit down to individual fireteams. He could tap into any of them, access their details, and issue combat orders directly to their officers. He tapped his fingers on the metal frame and then looked to Lieutenant Elvidge and his unit. Jack knew it was coming now. He just didn’t know what it would be. In some ways, he hoped they would have orders, but the idea of marching out into the open to die in the avalanche of Biomech gunfire was an ending Jack preferred to avoid.

  “There is always a chance, even a tiny one, that these machines could do something out of the ordinary. Something so deadly that this base could fall.”

  Jack and the others looked positively offended at the suggestion. The Fort may be new, but the Alliance Engineers had worked wonders. Jack shook his head in surprise.

  “Are you kidding? We have strong walls, towers, air defenses, and reinforced numbers and trench works throughout this base.”

  “Jack’s not wrong,” Lieutenant Elvidge continued.

  “The base follows the standard practice of four defensible quarters with a compound in the center. They’ll have to work through every layer of defense to succeed.”

  Jack nodded at this and walked to the schematic of the base on the wall.

  “This is a standard template. That’s why they built it so fast. It would take thousands of troops to even consider attacking this place. I doubt even three of four Marine battalions could do it on their own.”

  Jack continued speaking, but Gun lifted his hand to stop them all.

  “I know, and you are all correct…but as Colonel and commander of this sector, it comes down to me to prepare for any situation. I want all of you to stay close, just in case. If anything unexpected happens, I will need people I’m familiar with.”

  He looked at Jack in particular.

  “What about your personal guard, Colonel?” asked Riku.

  Gun smiled at this.

  “Yes, I do have a unit of Jötnar and Vanguards waiting outside behind the defenses. Even so, Jack and I have been in a few scrapes before. I would like you to stay.”

  A red indicator flashed on the tactical display, and three of the monitors changed to show a view of the sky above them.

  “Colonel, they are here.”

  They all looked at the screen, each wanted to see the shapes coming to the surface. It seemed like an age, b
ut finally one dark shape came through, sheathed in flame and trailing smoke.

  “Look at that thing. How big is it?” asked one officer.

  Somebody answered, but Jack, Gun, and his comrades had already changed their look from the screen to the tactical display. The single red shape had multiplied it three, then five, and then after a few more seconds, hundreds flickered in a bright pattern over the map. Jack looked to his friend who gave him a contorted frown.

  “Yes, I think the numbers might be on their side this time.”

  Jack shook his head and looked back at the video stream. The burning objects were now in their hundreds and heading for the surface at substantial speed.

  When were they not?

  Jack could now see the shapes of the craft and was surprised that they looked similar to a skate or stingray fish. They were quite flat and trailed by a long tail that gave them a smaller, more agile look compared to their larger brethren still in space.

  How many warriors can they carry? Jack wondered with trepidation.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The return of Spartan to Sol was an event few considered a great importance. They would soon come to understand that the anger and wrath of this fearsome warrior was a sight to behold. His body was battered; many of his bones fractured or broken, his lower arm torn apart, and his mind savaged by the interrogation and torture of the Biomech machines. Was it surprising that when he was presented with a chance for vengeance, that he would take it, no matter the cost in lives on either side?

  The Rise of Spartan

  Spartan wiped his brow but said nothing. The man across the table looked almost as uncomfortable as he felt, not that Spartan would let the other man know this, even for an instant. He lifted himself to his feet and walked several meters away from Spartan and to a painting of a medieval city. It was an odd thing to have in such a room, and Spartan wondered if it were there to make the place seem less like a cell or interrogation room. He guessed he’d been there for about three hours now, and that was after he had been given a thorough medical examination and cleared before entry to the rest of the station. He’d been given access to several parts of it, but nothing that would allow him to come into contact with people or information. He sensed there was something serious going on, but they weren’t giving up anything, not yet.