Jack had already done the math, and even if the marines clambered on top of the vehicles, it would leave at least half of them behind. There didn’t seem to be any great answers though.
“Gun can look after himself. He’s done it before. We have to save all that we can.”
The armored form of Lieutenant Thom Jason stopped their conversation. The man was burly-looking and with the markings of his elite Drop Unit, one of the experimental aerial insertion units being trialed in some of the battalions. He stepped out from the forward trench so his marines could see him.
“Marines, they’re coming through again! Get ready!”
Every marine had already fixed bayonets to their rifle or carbine. Even the few remaining platoons of the NHA had done the same, but it was unlikely they would stand in a hand-to-hand fight with such deadly and brutal warriors. Shadows appeared throughout the base as the creatures moved closer. With them controlling two of the walls, they were now able to enter the perimeter relatively unmolested and could make use of the two quadrants near the landing strips to assemble.
“Fire!” cried out Lieutenant Jason.
He wasn’t the most senior marine on the base, but he was the only officer remaining at this particular section of the defenses. As the first volley of gunfire erupted, he remained out at the front and on top of the closest trench to the creatures. His height seemed to draw them to him, and in just a few seconds, scores of the creatures moved directly at him.
“Lieutenant!” Jack called out, as he grabbed the officer and yanked him back to the shallow trench. As they hit the dirt, a group of the things tried to jump in amongst them. Gunfire from the marines further behind them shredded the things, killing every one of them that tried to reach the Lieutenant.
“Sir, are you hurt?”
Lieutenant Jason shook his head.
“No, I’m fine. Get back on the line, son. We have blade work to do here.”
“Sir!”
The orders were short and curt, but it was exactly what the marines needed. The gunfire coming from the defenses around the two quadrants was now overwhelming. The L52 carbines did most of the work, but every squad was equipped with L48 rifles for support fire, and between them they killed hundreds of the creatures. Jack began to wonder if staying might be more advisable when he spotted the burning shape of a falling object above the base. At first he thought it was a missile, but then he realized it was another type of lander. This one seemed smaller than the others. It trailed smoke and seemed to change course as it fell.
“Uh…Jack, I don’t like this,” said Riku.
The overlay on their visors had already calculated course, trajectory, and velocity. The data suggested a direct impact right on their position.
“I see it,” said Jack numbly.
He stepped back from the trench and moved off to the left, following the angled corner to join the second set of trenches. Riku, Callahan, and the others did the same. Private Jenkell and Lieutenant Jason remained at their posts with carbines at their shoulders. Jack dropped to one knee and waved at them to follow.
“Come on, we’ve got trouble!” he shouted out.
Private Jenkell heard him over the comms channel and finally jumped away from her position, but the Lieutenant stood his ground. He turned to look at Jack.
“We can’t fall back, Private. Hold your position!”
Jack was dumbfounded until he spotted the damage to the man’s armor. The right arm was cracked and scorched, but it was the equipment on his helmet and back that had taken the brunt of the impact. The man dropped to his knee, his carbine falling uselessly to the ground.
“Lieutenant!”
The man groaned and then reached down for his pistol. Jack turned back, but Riku and Callahan grabbed his arms and dragged him back from their previous position. He was still protesting when the craft came crashing down ten meters from where they had been fighting. Before the thing even slowed to a halt, the hatches and door blew open; and out streamed more warriors. Five landed in front of the Lieutenant. He emptied his magazine at the first before the five shot him down. Small bloody marks indicated where the projectiles had entered his body, and still he refused to acknowledge the injuries.
“No!” cried out Jack.
He took aim and released a high-power shot at the closest of the group. The three rounds cut through the frontal armor neck, instantly decapitating the thing. It dropped to its knees and tipped over. Gunfire from the other marines slammed into them, but only the high-power shots from the carbines or the explosive rounds from the L48s had the power to stop them.
“Get back, come on!” Riku shouted.
She tugged at Jack, but he shook her off and continued to blaze away at the group as even more of them leapt from the lander. Another of the craft crashed down fifty meters away, and dozens more of the armored warriors joined the fray. Jack finally moved back, and by the time he and the others had moved to the next and final trench line, the battle had reached its climax. More and more creatures swarmed from outside the base and into the fallen quadrants while the new armored warriors spearheaded a vicious firefight around the marines at the car pool. More shapes appeared out in the distance, and two marines fired at them before realizing they were a group of four surviving Vanguards. These mighty armored warriors moved at a quick jog until reaching the open ground near the Bulldogs. One opened fire, and then all four put a powerful burst of fire into the flank of the enemy force.
“Yeah! One marine shouted; the others quickly joined in with the excitement. Caught out in the open, the enemy warriors took a number of casualties before they split up and sent a party directly at the Vanguards.
What the hell are they? Jack thought.
He took aim and shot off one of their arms, but it failed to put them out of the fight. As best as he could tell, these new warriors were another variant of the seemingly infinite variety of artificial warriors created by the Biomechs. Like those already engaged in battle, they were bipedal and the same size and stature as the Helions. Their skin was itself armor, a thin metallic substance that looked like aged iron. Their faces were blank and protected by a plain helm that hid every part of their faces from view other than glowing red eyes. These warriors hunched as though forced to by a cruel trick of genetics or perhaps it was due to their muscular arrangement. It was the weapons that surprised Jack most. He’d never seen anything like it. Rather than carrying a single projectile weapon or edge weapon, they carried a shorter weapon, similar in size to the L52 but strapped to both forearms.
* * *
Admiral Lewis and General Daniels looked at the formation of Biomanta warships in orbit over Eos for what must have been the tenth time. Around them waited the senior Naval and Marine officers of the rest of the fleet. Half were represented by virtual presences. Admiral Lewis had made up his mind after he’d seen the reports coming from the surface of Eos. It had been a little harder to persuade the other ships’ captains though. He looked at the assembled group standing in a circle around the projected model of the moon and the ships around it. General Daniels’ command room was eminently more suitable for the briefing with its newly fitted mapping and communication equipment.
“Well, that is the situation, Gentlemen. This will be a risky operation, but I cannot stand by and leave our marines to this fate.”
He nodded to General Daniels.
“The most recent data coming in shows both of our small bases were overrun in less than forty minutes, with no survivors. This is unlike any assault we have ever seen.”
They all knew the fighting had been fierce, but the news of such horrendous casualties shocked them. The last report from the General had suggested they could hold for weeks, perhaps months until a relief force could be mobilized. Now it seemed they had just hours before complete extermination. He moved his eyes to look at each of them as he continued.
“Fort Macquarie’s defenses have been breached, and they are broadcasting a general distress call. Either we help no
w, or we lose them all; that’s eight thousand people, including the bulk of the 17th and 8th Marine Battalions.”
He left them with those figures while Admiral Lewis showed them the fleet’s dispositions. It was something of a surprise, but more than one officer recognized the basic strategy.
“The enemy force of approximately seventeen ships is in high orbit and strung out in a wide formation to act as a buffer. According to the battle statistics, we are more than capable of matching them ship to ship, but they still have three more vessels than us. We have to rescue the marines and come out of this alive.”
The ship shuddered slightly as the massive engines made a slight course adjustment. Even as the officers spoke, the fleet continued on its path toward the enemy. Only those in command of the ships understood they were slowing down and losing height around the moon. Bizarrely, this meant they were actually traveling in the same orbital direction as the Biomechs and at a higher speed.
“In just over an hour, we will adjust our final position and move directly between the Biomech fleet and the moon. If the plan is successful, we will smash through their defenses and continue down to low orbit. General Daniels will conduct the rescue operation of Fort Macquarie and rendezvous with the fleet upon our return above the objective seventy-one minutes later.”
Again he waited to let that information sink in. The plan he’d made meant they would sail beneath and past the Biomech fleet at such a speed, the engagement would last just seven minutes before they would be out of visual range. As they skimmed the thin atmosphere of Eos, the effectiveness of direct-energy weapons would be dissipated slightly. Timing was going to be critical, and any ships unable to escape would be left behind.
Captain Perry, the commander of ANS Royal Oak pointed at the image of the fleet.
“How long will we need to complete the rescue operation?”
General Daniels took a long, slow breath before answering his question.
“I’ll need at least an hour to get craft on the ground, clear landing zones, and then grab the survivors. I have the timings...and it’s going to be very close.”
Admiral Lewis looked at the model showing their dispositions, trying to imagine how the battle would unfold. He’d tried to use the basic principle of the Battle of the Nile, but in space there were some things he simply couldn’t ignore. The long range and almost instant speed of the particle-beam weapons were deadly, but that was just the beginning. It was fighting the battle in orbit that caused the greatest problem. The two fleets couldn’t maneuver around each other. They would simply pass by each other with a narrow window to use their weapons. On the second and final pass, he would need to extract the marines’ rescue craft and then use the slingshot effect of the moon plus his engines to blast off into space.
Could this work? he wondered.
He looked back at the officers and the model of the moon. The aerial images and video streams from the remaining drones reminded him he had to do something. If there was any chance of the marines holding out, he might have felt differently; but they were looking at the complete annihilation of two battalions plus their New Helion Army allies and hundreds of support personnel.
If we don’t succeed, this could be the biggest disaster since the capture of the Titan Naval Station in the Uprising.
* * *
Spartan and Khan moved slowly into position around the control room of the station. Streaks of blood on the floor and walls showed where the two machines had worked their way inside. Spartan placed his finger over his lips and leaned out to take a look. He could see three metallic limbs near the entrance, and there was a great deal of noise coming from inside the station itself. The legs shifted and vanished inside.
Just like old times.
He moved back and waved at them both. Khan moved up behind him. Simon waited patiently behind them, beads of sweat running down the poor man’s face.
“Forget the legs, aim at the body. They are like spiders. The loss of a leg does nothing to them. We kill the one at the door first.”
Khan smiled that great wide beam he never showed, except when he was about to commit copious amounts of violence or engage in some form of physical contest with his brethren. He held up his modified shotgun and aimed it at the doorway. The engineer watched them both, doing his best to look confident, but his shaking hands and white face betrayed his true feelings.
“Now!” said Spartan.
The two moved for the doorway. Spartan took the right, and Khan moved to the left. Spartan took two steps and then cleared the door. Khan didn’t wait and followed right behind, but it was harder for him to move with the stealth that Spartan could manage. The command room was on two levels; the raised section further away and flanked by computer displays. One of the machines waited in the middle and turned to face them.
“Where’s the other one?” asked Simon, stepping in behind them.
The two experienced warriors took quick aim at the machine and opened fire. Unlike conventional shotguns, these weapons released scattered pellets of superheated metal and ripped chunks out of the metal armor covering the machine. Spartan fired more slowly and took careful aim. Khan emptied the box magazine in less than three seconds. The engineer didn’t even have time to shoot before two of the machine’s legs had been blown off and its body shattered from a dozen impacts. It still twisted about and stumbled toward them, with two of the legs extended.
“Shoot it!” shouted Spartan.
Khan was reloading, and Spartan had just fired his last shot as it moved even closer to them. At this range, the shape was much clearer to see. The body was easily the size of a man’s, and the arms were like some metallic appendage torn from an octopus and fitted with pistons and curved blades. It hacked and stabbed at Khan, who instead of reloading used his shotgun like a club. He parried the first attack, but the second arm managed to embed in his upper right leg.
“Damned machine!” he snapped in mock amusement.
Spartan took a step to the side and finished fitting the box magazine when the engineer opened fire. His shots were wild, yet three managed to strike near the middle of the target. Each impact ripped a chunk the size of a man’s fist from the housing until finally a blue flash announced its death. Ripples of energy ran about its frame. It slid to the floor on lifeless, weakened legs. Spartan took aim, but it was over. The machine was now unable to continue the fight.
“Great work, Simon...” Spartan said, a sly grin forming on his face.
He turned to look at the man, and his face transformed as though some great magnet had pulled his features down to the floor. Right behind Simon was the shape of the second and last of the Biomech machines. There was no clear face, but its torso was upright and shielded by the form of the engineer. Three red shapes appeared, one in his chest, one in his stomach, and one in his throat. It took a second for Spartan to realize they were the razor edged tips of three of the machine’s legs.
“Spartan, watch out!” roared Khan.
He grabbed Spartan, yanking him to his left just as the machine withdrew its blades and stepped over the body of the fallen engineer. Spartan staggered and almost fell before crashing into one of the computer displays, sending glass flying.
“Die!” roared his friend, throwing himself at the machine.
Khan was nearly two and a half meters tall, slightly shorter than the larger of his people, but a veritable giant compared to a normal man. His thick, bulging muscles flexed as he grabbed the nearest limbs and tried to hurl the machine into the wall. They must have been equally matched in size, weight, and strength though. He was unable to move it. Spartan looked to his left, then right before spotting his fallen shotgun. He leapt for it, reaching out with his left hand; once again forgetting it was now nothing but a stump. Cursing, he used his right, checked the box and took aim.
“Out of the way, you fool!” he called out.
Khan tried to move, but he was locked in mortal combat with the machine and from the way it had twisted its meta
l limbs around him, he was unable to move. Spartan shook his head angrily and then ran back with the shotgun held up high.
“Hold on, I’m coming!”
He ran to the right of Khan, stabbed down with the shotgun’s muzzle pressed firmly at its body, and pulled the trigger. The recoil was substantial, especially when held in just one hand. At this range, the hole it burned went halfway through the thing’s body.
“It’s still moving!” said Khan, crying out in pain.
Spartan could see a red line running along his friend’s flank.
It’s going to open him up, come on!
He pulled the trigger over and over until the machine released two of the arms on Khan and flailed out at him. Spartan flew backward and landed hard on his back, the impact almost knocking him out cold. It was enough though and freed up Khan’s arms. He reached inside the hole, ignoring the smell of burning flesh as the superheated metal on the scarred housing burned into his fingers and wrist. He could feel tubes and cables and pulled and tore at whatever he could find. The machine seemed to shriek, and then it fell motionless, like some twisted metallic spider. With a few pulls and tugs, he dragged himself away from the machine and staggered over to Spartan. Blood dripped from a dozen deep wounds on his body. Something gave way in his leg, and he dropped down next to his friend.
“You crazy fool,” said Spartan.
Khan was in great pain, but the sight of the two smashed machines put a smile back on his face, a smile Spartan couldn’t remember seeing for many months. He lifted himself from the floor and looked for the sign of a medical kit. Luckily, there were small red signs in every room and passageway of the station. There was one near the door, and in just a few short seconds, he had the unit and ripped out a sealant package to help staunch the blood flow and block up the wound. As he applied the gooey material, Khan looked to him.
Star Crusades Nexus: The Second Trilogy Page 41
