“Are these the Earthmen you told me about?”
Spartan bared his teeth with amusement.
“Yeah, something like that.”
Khan went for the door, and this time none of the officials tried to stop them. Spartan followed, and the three men maintained a safe distance behind them. The klaxon continued as before, much to Spartan’s annoyance.
“I think we know something is going on. Can’t you turn that thing off?”
The nearest of the three shook his head.
“Figures,” Khan muttered.
They continued along the passageway until reaching the recreation deck. It was surprisingly large and expanded out into a large domed area that included the normal gravity section plus a semi-dome low gravity area. Spartan was actually quite impressed by what he saw, and for the smallest moment wondered what it might be like to train there. The sight of a dozen civilians running toward him brought him back to reality. Three women and a child moved to his right, and he grabbed the taller of the two women.
“What’s happening?”
She struggled, and when Spartan tried to reassure her, she spotted the stump and screamed. Khan put his hand to his forehead in frustration and then blocked her path.
“We’re with the Alliance, here to help. Now answer the man, what is happening?”
She looked up at the monstrous shape of Khan and looked a little faint.
“Well?”
“The dock is under attack by something from the alien ship.”
She then pushed past them and led her group back into the passageway. Spartan turned on the spot and pointed to the man with the bloodied nose.
“What is this alien ship?”
The man nodded bitterly.
“Yes, the ship you arrived in, the T’Kari vessel. What did you bring with you?”
Khan stepped between them and glared at the man.
“You brought us here, little man. If you had half a brain of common sense, you would have put the craft in quarantine away from inhabited vessels.”
“He’s right,” Spartan added, his hand resting on his friend’s forearm.
“You had no problem doing that with us. What about the T’Kari that were with us?”
The taller of the men in suits took a half step to Khan and then thought better of it.
“They are still on the ship. We’ve been using it as a temporary shelter until their story could be verified. They claim to have been prisoners of the machines.”
Spartan was immediately suspicious of this, especially the simple fact of this apparent conversation when he knew too well that the T’Kari on the ship had not met humans before, let alone learned English or any other human language.
“Where is the ship?” he asked suspiciously.
The first of the men looked to his companion, but Spartan cut him off.
“I didn’t ask him. I asked you!”
He pointed with his right hand accusingly.
“I…uh…we put the ship out on the largest docking arm. You can see it through the observation window over there.”
He pointed off to the right, but they were interrupted by what sounded like an explosion. The lights in the recreation area flickered but stayed on, much to Spartan and Khan’s surprise. Then came a graunching sound, and the ground shook and shuddered. A handful of people that had been lurking in the shadows cried out and ran past as fast as they could manage. More people came out from the recreation room, and two of them dragged a wounded man between then. Spartan moved closer and beckoned for them to head in the direction the others were taking.
“What happened to him?”
The two men in engineers’ overalls looked at him nervously.
“There’s a machine or something down there tearing the place up. You should get out of here.”
That was when he spotted Khan and stopped to gaze at the beast.
“You…you’re a Jötnar. You came here, to Earth?”
Khan looked at him for a moment and then bared his teeth in amusement.
“Yeah?”
The man stepped forward and slammed his hand into Khan’s paw.
“My family were on Euryale, trapped underground and held by Echidna. Now you are here to help us again!”
Khan’s attention was elsewhere, and only the man’s adamant pulling on his arm could turn his head to face him. Finally Khan relented and almost snapped before the man continued to speak.
“Your Jötnar broke in on Euryale when nobody else would. How can I help you?”
This part did interest him. Neither Khan nor Spartan knew a thing about the station they were on, but this man wore the overalls and insignia of a member of Earthsec; the composite commercial and state body that had evolved to manage the decay of the old worlds of Sol. If anybody knew this station, it would be a man like him.
“Do you have weapons here?”
The man shook his head.
“No way, man. This is a transit station, not a military outpost.”
“What about security, police? You must have something here?” asked Spartan.
The man paused briefly as he looked at Khan.
“There is a customs center, but it’s on the other ring, too far away.”
He looked at Spartan as if he was having trouble placing him.
“Wait, did you say you are Spartan?”
Khan chortled at his question. Spartan appeared less than amused.
“Yeah, why?”
The man called to a team of engineers that were running past. He spoke with them in rushed tones, but Spartan and Khan were beginning to lose their patience.
“We need weapons; do you have a workshop or tool room near?”
More screaming came from the other side of the recreation area. Dozens of people, including engineers, customs officials, and more random citizens streamed through the structure.
“They must be coming from the docking arm,” Spartan said, rushing over to the right. The others followed more slowly, each looking about nervously for signs of the terrible enemy machines. He finally reached the ramp that led up to the vast window with its thick metal panes.
“Look,” he said.
He stood there completely motionless, with his hand pointing out from the observation deck. It was a raised area the size of a small room and outfitted with reinforced glass on one side, much like a goldfish bowl. The view was completely static, rather than the rotation Spartan expected. He tapped it, and Khan grabbed his hand.
“Glass, you fool, want to see us in the void without suits?”
Spartan laughed.
“Khan, you’re the fool. That isn’t glass. Look at the ship.”
The two of them, plus the small group of engineers and the three black suited men watched the shape of the captured T’Kari warship. It was definitely the heavily damaged vessel they had escape in from the Biomech facility. Spartan almost felt a pang for the place that had been their home for such a short time. It was Spartan that spotted the shapes first.
“Look, on the underside.”
Khan tilted his head as he watched the shapes moving along the hull.
“No…how the hell?”
He looked back at Spartan, shaking his head angrily.
“Biomech war machines. What are they doing here?”
Spartan grimaced.
“Yeah, looks like combat drones, the same as those on Hyperion. They must have come on the T’Kari ship.”
He looked back to the suited official with the bloodied nose.
“You didn’t scan the exterior before bringing it here?”
The man said nothing, and Spartan could do little to hide his anger. Looking back at the window, it was clear a large number of the machines were making their way from the ship. He counted them one by one before rubbing his forehead with his right arm.
“Okay, I count over twenty of them, plus however many got here in the last few minutes.”
“More than twenty? Just one can take on a marine squad,” Khan said incredulously.
>
“Yeah, in that case we need to get busy,” Spartan replied, “Against green citizens and local security units, these machines will tear them apart. I reckon one of them could take this place.”
He wiped his brow, considering his best approach to the problem.
“They’ll secure the docks first, then move to take the station.”
“And then?” asked the senior man in the black suit.
“They are Biomech machines; they’ll do what they always do. Entrench, expand, and then exterminate. They have to be stopped and fast!”
Spartan grabbed the engineer by the shoulder.
“We need to break contact with the docking arm. Can you do that?”
The man thought for a second before answering. At the same time the grinding sound of metal on metal sent screams through the station. The telltale thuds far away were the only indication that compartments had been breached and exposed to the vacuum of space.
“Yes, but not from here. It has to be done manually from the control station.”
Spartan sighed deeply, resigned to what was coming.
Am I surprised? Like it would be easy.
“And where is that?”
The man pointed in the direction of the sound where the screaming was coming from. Khan laughed, the roar surprisingly all but Spartan, who moved back to the three men in suits. They seemed to be equally stunned about the situation.
“This station is screwed. Get everybody away from this deck and to the habitation deck. It’s right above us, right?”
The closest man nodded quickly, now finally taking the situation as seriously as Spartan and Khan were.
“Yes, the next level up is habitation and retail.”
Khan laughed loudly at the mention of shopping. It was one of those areas that had always amused him. Right now, in this awful scenario, the idea of people buying goods appealed to him in a twisted way.
“Good,” he said, pulling the man close to him. “You need to get the order out to everybody on this station to clear this level. Seal every door, passage, and shaft in the next ninety seconds. Understood?”
The man nodded, but Spartan doubted the man truly understood his plan. He had seen these machines in battle before. They didn’t cover ground particularly fast, but they were resilient, scheming, and even worse; they were deadly in a fight.
“What will you do?” he asked nervously.
Spartan glanced to Khan who simply nodded back to him. The two must have been in so many scrapes since their escape from the Biomech ship that even something like this was insignificant. A man shouted, and the glint of flashing steel beckoned off in the distance. Everybody in sight was moving away from it as quickly as they could manage. Only Spartan moved toward the sight with just the engineer and Khan following. He made it halfway before looking back over his shoulder.
“Whatever we can!”
Khan grabbed a fallen metal chair in one hand and smashed his fist into the frame to leave several fractured pieces of metal. It was barely a club but better than nothing. He lifted it to his shoulder and called back to them as well.
“Just do you job. Get these people out of here!”
The men in suits were still standing in the same place as the three vanished into the blackness and toward the screams. The shortest looked to the one still holding his bloodied nose.
“Well, what now?”
The man spat blood onto the ground. As the spittle hit the metal floor, the station shook again. He struggled to stay upright while the station settled.
“We do what the savage suggested…for now.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ganymede and Titan were amongst the few remaining prosperous colonies in Sol. Though many still lived on the Earth and Martian colonies, they were the minority. The largest populations were those of Earth’s single moon and on the moons of Saturn and Mars. The moons had avoided the decay of the planets and maintained a more powerful role in relation to trade and space travel. The construction of the Rift station in close orbit of Ganymede would see its fortunes rise as well, as its significance in the unfolding drama that had begun in Helios with the Prophecy of Fire.
The Lost World
The hull shuddered as ANS Conqueror took a final round of fire from the Biomech fleet. Even though they were hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, the energy from the Biomanta warships could strike the Alliance vessels in less than two seconds. Only the Conqueror Battlecruisers were equipped with after particle beam emitters, and every ten seconds they returned fire, doing equal harm to the opposing force. A young lieutenant struck his head on one of the bulkheads as yet another impact tore a chunk of plating from the rear port side of the ship.
“Almost there, Admiral,” said the helmsman calmly.
Admiral Lewis did his best to hide the distress on his face as he watched the mainscreen. Although the fleet was accelerating away from the scene of the carnage, the multiple external cameras still showed the crippled ships they had abandoned. They had moved into a new lower orbit, placing them almost on the opposite side of the moon and out of direct line of sight with the Biomech fleet. It was a temporary respite, and if the Biomechs gave chase or split up, they would be exposed once more. The fleet was now returning to its original orbit distance from Eos, so as to not end up looping around to face the enemy fleet. Captain Marcus could see his friend and superior officer was hurting badly, but there was little he could do or say in comfort. He instead returned to the tactical assessment of the enemy ships.
“Our status?” asked the Admiral, almost dreading to check.
The XO had been in the middle of a discussion with Lieutenant Vitelli. He looked to the Admiral and pointed at the tactical display where it showed the green outlines of fourteen ships.
“Admiral, all surviving ships are still operational. We have damage and casualties on all vessels, as well as significant fighter losses. The last volley damaged the aft emitter array as well as venting four more compartments.”
He paused for nearly two seconds before adding.
“Firing time and accuracy has been affected throughout the ship. Damage to power systems, infrastructure, and substantial crew losses are hurting us badly, Admiral.”
“And them?” he said, pointing at the main screen.
Both looked to the scattered wreckage of the sixteen ships that had been lost between the two fleets so far.
“Our scans show no survivors, Admiral.”
He could feel a sickness welling up inside his body at this news. The feelings of betrayal burned through his chest, and he found it hard to look at the screen. The battle had been shorter than he’d expected. Instead of the careful maneuvering and skirmishing, they had simply smashed through his lines and ignored the damage he’d inflicted. He closed his eyes for a second before the XO continued speaking.
“The Biomech fighters are finishing off what the Biomantas started. It is a slaughter out there.”
Every part of him wanted to slow the fleet and turn it around, but with a third of his forces gone, he knew it was suicidal. He had just fourteen ships remaining while the enemy still had seventeen of their deadly vessels in action. The near destruction of a single ship had been a great blow to him, but this was something else.
What will force them back? They must have suffered as greatly as we did?
“What about damage? The reports from the fighter wings must be in by now. How did they do?”
Lieutenant Vitelli moved his hands in front of the tactical display to bring up a series of schematics that showed both the ships of the Alliance fleet as well as those in the enemy fleet. Columns of data ran underneath each one showing size, mass, specification, and damage.
“All but one of their ships sustained damage, and according to the reports from Captain Evans, they were able to destroy at least three of the emitters on the remaining ships.”
Interesting, thought Admiral Lewis. Is that enough?
“What is your assessment, Lieutenant?”
“If these reports are accurate, then they will have a fleet of roughly comparable size to our own and with similar capabilities. Even their fighter numbers are not so far off ours.”
Admiral Lewis didn’t like what he had to say, but it was as expected.
“So if we return to battle, we can expect what?”
He knew the answer but asked anyway.
“Well, our newer ships are undoubtedly able to match them, ship to ship. The older Crusader class is having trouble causing enough damage before being hit by their weapons. We have found no command ships of any kind though. The fleet operates like a single living organism that reacts and improvises instantly.”
Admiral Lewis shrugged.
“That is something for us to consider for the future. All we can do right now is engage them with whatever weapons we have at our disposal. Why are they taking so long to destroy? Every time we damage them, they should lose a degree of effectiveness, just as we do.”
He gazed at the previous images of the enemy ships. The shapes were almost beautiful to look at. The metal hulls were sleek, and the wide wings gave the impression they could glide through space like fish in the deep ocean. The human ships of the Alliance were the exact opposite. Their outer hulls had more in common with the brick shapes of twentieth century warships, with their thick armored belts, layered sections, and complex superstructures. The different in quality and technology was becoming more apparent, at least to him. He pointed at the Biomanta.
“Do you know why this isn’t happening?”
Vitelli rested his chin in his hand and nodded.
“I have an idea, and it’s our scans of their armor that concerns me the most.”
“How so?”
Lieutenant Vitelli tapped the nearest Biomanta, and it enlarged to fill half of the tactical display. The name was certainly apt, as it looked surprisingly similar to the ancient Earth fish. He pointed at the central structure.
“We are not detecting any form of individual life reading in this structure.”
Admiral Lewis looked confused for a moment.
Star Crusades Nexus: The Second Trilogy Page 35
