Star Crusades Nexus: Book 06 - Call to Arms

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Star Crusades Nexus: Book 06 - Call to Arms Page 6

by Michael G. Thomas


  “Spartan, Khan, it’s this way.”

  It didn’t need to be said, but the two of them had already stopped to look about the place.

  “Before we go, Jenkins, I need to know something.”

  The officer waited patiently. His face was relaxed, but Spartan could see there was something he wasn’t telling him. As far as he was concerned, this entire operation had been activated on a whim. He even wondered if it had been concocted just to get Khan and him off Earth, and where they could cause the least trouble.

  “Is this on the level?”

  The Lieutenant looked confused at the question.

  “What, the mission?”

  Khan nodded, evidently wondering the same thing.

  “Of course. I met with the Governor and his senior advisors less than an hour ago. He showed me the rest of the footage which...”

  “We still haven’t seen completely,” Khan interrupted.

  Lieutenant Jenkins nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, that is true. I have it on file, and we can watch it as many times as you want on the way to the Lunar base. As for the operation though, it is necessary and above board. Mars is not just one of our most important settlements; it is the primary refinery and transport hub for Sol.”

  Spartan now looked even less convinced.

  “It’s also the point in Sol that controls access to Rift that can send ships over four light years to the rest of the Alliance. It will take months for engineers on the other side to construct a new system to reopen the Rift somewhere else, assuming they are not already under attack.”

  Lieutenant Jenkins didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He waited for a few seconds before indicating for them to join him inside.

  “Look. There is no Rift, no communications, and no help coming until Mars is secured.”

  He leaned in close to Spartan.

  “This isn’t public knowledge yet, but eleven minutes into the attack, we lost control of the Rift control system.”

  Spartan recoiled almost a full meter when he heard this.

  “You idiots. You’ve lost the Rift?”

  A number of technicians heard him shouting and looked up to try and understand what they were talking about. Jenkins tried pulling him to the door, but Spartan blocked his arms and gave him a hard stare. Based on the interest shown by the technicians, the secret of the Rift was now well in the open. Spartan looked to Khan who laughed at his friend’s discomfort. He looked back at the Lieutenant and indicated for him to move aside.

  “Okay, we’re coming.”

  He moved past the man and into the cramped interior of the craft. He sat down, noting the technicians had modified part of the stowage area into somewhere Khan could sit. He shook his head and pointed to where Khan was to go.

  “I’m getting sick of this place,” his friend grumbled.

  There were four other Earthsec operatives on board, but none made a move to look at them or even to engage in conversation. Instead, the three new arrivals strapped themselves in and waited for the start-up sequence. As they waited, Lieutenant Jenkins twisted about to face the two of them.

  “Look, we have a ship and escorts waiting assembling at the Lunar military base. The Governor has even arranged for a squadron of armed shuttles for escort. It’s not exactly a major Alliance operation, but it’s the biggest thing I’ve ever seen Earthsec organize.”

  Spartan tried to look outside, but the windows were small and badly burned, presumably from multiple landings through the planet’s atmosphere. It didn’t exactly inspire much confidence.

  “I’ve not seen a plan, information on the site, or any idea of the kind of resources you’re putting into this. I still doubt your people have any real idea what they are getting into here.”

  The Lieutenant tried to smile, but it came out a little crooked.

  “Maybe, but the three of us know what’s down there. That’s why I recommended all three of us should be attached to this little operation.”

  Spartan looked at him carefully. He had a few vague recollections of the man back from over twenty years ago. There were others like Marcus, and even the kid that he could visualize, but nothing much with this man.

  “Why?”

  The man looked even a little whimsical at this question.

  “Really? Well, we have a specialist Earthsec security force with the best gear around. Until these machines attacked Mars though, this was the first we’d ever seen of an extra-terrestrial threat. To be honest, most people out here see this enemy as being a political ploy, nothing more.”

  Spartan scratched at his eyelid with his good hand.

  “Political? Have they not seen the vids?”

  Khan was less interested in politics and growled at the two of them.

  “You said they were good. How good?”

  Lieutenant Jenkins looked to Khan and shrugged.

  “Not Confed Marines Corps good, but they are fit, well trained, and capable. With the right leadership and direction, they can get the job done.”

  He leaned back in his seat as the engines powered up.

  “You might as well rest for now. It’s going to take us nearly a day to reach your new home.”

  “The Moon,” said Khan miserably.

  The lump of space rock was known throughout the Alliance as being the very first human colony. For that it had a special place in history and for most, a visit to the satellite was almost a pilgrimage. To Khan it was just another lifeless rock, in a star system he found he liked even less than he expected.

  “No,” said Lieutenant Jenkins with a grin.

  “We aren’t going to the surface.”

  The two looked at him suspiciously, waiting for an explanation.

  “We’re meeting up with the ES Dauntless.”

  He looked at the two, expecting some kind of reaction. Khan did nothing, so he turned his attention to Spartan who seemed equally unimpressed.

  “Dauntless, you know, the oldest commissioned ship.”

  Spartan shook his head slowly. Lieutenant Jenkins looked disappointed.

  “She’s a museum ship in orbit around the Moon. Earthsec has commandeered her, and she is being refitted by an emergency crew for immediate departure.”

  “Wait, a museum ship?” Khan asked.

  “Well, yes,” answered Jenkins. “Dauntless is over four hundred years old. She’s one of the old Commando Carriers. Twelve crew, and space for four assault shuttles and two platoons of commandos.”

  He sounded excited at the prospect, but Khan just rolled his eyes at the description.

  “Sounds like a piece of junk to me.”

  Spartan said no more and instead reached for one of the wired datapads, of a vintage that seemed older than even the ones back in his short-lived quarters on Earth. The small craft shuddered, and then he felt the familiar kick as its engines blasted them off and away.

  Now, let’s see what this ship is all about.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The descendents of the Jötnar Battalion would find their services being called upon during the great call to arms of 361CC. As scattered Biomech raiding parties made their way from around the galaxy to reach Helios, the Alliance sent out the call to all military units. The response was rapid and substantial, and in a matter of weeks, entire units of reserve troops and mothballed ships were hastily brought back into service. Even the deathly world of Hyperion, now home of the Jötnar, made a contribution, one of many thousands of Jötnar warriors. Their contribution would mean more than an entire division of Alliance Marines.

  The 1st Jötnar Battalion

  Teresa and her entourage of three captains, T’Kron, and a handful of Jötnar had just finished a short tour of the dismantled Biomech assembly equipment, and she wasn’t particularly enjoying it. Most of the facility had been removed or destroyed a long time ago toward the end of the War, yet small sections had been retained, partially for posterity but also for research. The problem she had was too much of it brought back memories of
that time, and there was little good about it. The fighting on Prometheus had been more than just a violent rescue. It was her first experience of the massive Biomechs that would later become the loyal Jötnar like Khan and Gun. They had moved away from the equipment and machinery and toward the central hub where the command staff lived and worked.

  “Are you okay, Colonel?” asked Captain Nathaniel Rivers.

  They had sat down in the large, open central plaza that was decorated with a bizarre mixture of sculptures, each of them constructed from the rusted remnants of machinery. It was the very heart of the underground complex, and Teresa could see with her experienced eye that large parts of the plaza had been modified since her last visit.

  “I’m fine, Captain. I just need a moment before we meet the Admiral.”

  She pulled out her secpad and checked her schedule, breathing out slowly with impatience at seeing she had only a few more minutes of respite before they had to leave the place. He was sitting opposite her on a metal bench that looked like it might lift itself up and walk away at some point.

  “My father told me about this place, about the torture and brutality by the Union soldiers.”

  Teresa looked down the floor. It was strange seeing the metallic surface that always seemed to ooze warmth. She looked back up and tried to smile.

  “That wasn’t the worst part.”

  She looked to the rooms they had recently left.

  “Those chambers were used to harvest bone, flesh, tissue, and organs to build war machines for them. This entire place was an abomination that took thousands of lives.”

  She rubbed her chin and shook her head as though surprised.

  “The strange thing about this place though, well, until prisoners were brought here, we had no idea of the research bases, underground factories, or the shipyards. They had been constructed here in secret.”

  “Why is that strange?” asked the Captain.

  Teresa looked at him with raised eyebrows.

  “That kind of construction takes time, a long time. The engineers here said most of the oldest parts of the place dated back to near the early colonization of Terra Nova.”

  Now the Captain looked confused.

  “I thought Prometheus wasn’t fully explored until much later.”

  “Quite.”

  The Captain nodded and looked back at the small group of Jötnar strutting about like a group of trolls. Every now and then, they would stop directly in front of a statue and start shouting or arguing. Olik in particular kept returning to one of the larger sculptures and touching the metal. Teresa found it curious how much more interesting this place was to him, far more than it would ever would be for her.

  “Why are they so interested in them?” asked the Captain.

  Captain John Tycho, the second of her three captains, lifted himself with a groan and nodded in the direction of Olik.

  “Being here might be filled with horrors for us, but to him and his kin this is where it all began. Don’t forget, the Union used it to research and manufacture the first synthetic warriors.”

  He looked to Teresa.

  “Isn’t it true that the first of these larger Biomechs had human parts inside them?”

  Teresa closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. When she opened them, all three of the captains were looking at her. Ever since what happened on Prometheus, she had encountered bitterness and distrust towards Gun, Khan, and their people. Although she could understand part of it, the basic criticism always came down to the first of their kind, those built with the butchered body parts of the living.

  “Yes, a small number of the first Biomechs were made from organs taken from the dead. I think the brains and nervous systems were used from a number of prisoners, and the final production models were replicated from these.”

  She looked back to Olik who was still some distance away. The only other time she had seen Khan or even Gun show as much interest in something was when they were examining a new weapon or piece of armor. Prometheus meant so much more to them, more than even she would probably be able to understand.

  “This place is like nothing we, as humans, will ever have. It is their birthplace, and no matter how many years go past, they will always be reminded of it. Unlike us, they were manufactured, at least the generation during the War. Don’t forget that with the help of people like Anderson, we’ve been able to support the Jötnar to procreate naturally, instead of in factories.

  “Yeah, so their numbers go up. Is that good?” asked Captain Rivers.

  Teresa looked confused.

  “You should know the loyalty of the Jötnar better than most. Why should they not enjoy the same as us?”

  Captain Thomas Thompson, who had until now remained seated, quietly lifted himself to his feet. He was a tall man and had said nothing so far. Unlike the others, his interest in the Jötnar was out of courtesy only. Teresa suspected this was due to his considerable amount of time spent training alongside them. Of the three captains, he was the only one who had spent anything more than a few hours with the Jötnar.

  She and Spartan had been on a Biomech hunt on Hyperion with the Jötnar, and it was an experience that left you both bonded and scarred. It was a time she would never want to forget, not least because that was the first vacation the two of them had spent following their marriage. She looked back to the young Captain again.

  They are probably nothing more than other marines to him.

  She noticed him looking at his secpad, and he began to speak but stopped. Something on the screen almost made him choke.

  “Colonel, there’s a priority message going out to all officers.”

  Her secpad began to vibrate and make a gentle humming sound.

  “It’s from the Admiral, here on this base.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  She pulled out the device and examined the data carefully. By the time she was past the third line, her body was shaking. She looked up. All of her officers, as well as T’Kron and Olik, were there.

  “You’ve heard then?”

  Only Olik shook his head.

  “What is it?”

  Teresa wiped her brow.

  “You recall the Biomech ship that Gun and I boarded?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, we captured its commander, and it was taken to the Naval Base on T’Karan.”

  “So?”

  She took in another long breath.

  “It’s not there anymore. Anderson has sent out an urgent message to all commanders on this station. He arrived three hours ago and has brought it with him.”

  Captain Thompson shook his head in surprise.

  “What?”

  Teresa tried to answer, but the imagery of the Biomech commander was pushed to the forefront of her memory. The fight to stop it had been one of the bloodiest single engagements she’d ever seen on board a warship. Her own marines had suffered badly, but in the end they had captured the ship and disabled the great machine. Its great black metal chassis had been twice the size of Gun or Khan and had killed dozens of fighters before it had been disabled.

  “I don’t understand the thinking behind this, Colonel. The enemy commander is a major intelligence asset. Why bring him back here?”

  Teresa looked at more information coming in, read it, and then lifted the device so that her officers could see the imagery. It showed the blackened shape of the great machine, and to their surprise, it was moving.

  None of this makes sense.

  She looked at her officers and the bemused look on Captain Thompson’s face seemed to answer her questions there and then.

  If this is so secret, why are messages being sent to so many officers?

  It was a simple ruse, but she had to admire its boldness. It was a great risk, of course, but then she wondered if the story about the machine was even true. Was it actually being shipped there, or was it another lie on top of many more?

  “What the hell is he doing?” asked Olik.

 
; Teresa read further and shook her head at the news.

  “According to the flash report from Admiral Anderson, the Biomech managed to break out of its holding facility and accessed Alliance communication systems for almost seven minutes before being stopped. It’s being brought here for safety.”

  Teresa knew full well how powerful the Biomech machine was, and that if it had escaped for that much time, there would have been heavy casualties on the base. That was of course if the story was even true, and now she was beginning to have doubts about almost everything she’d heard. She looked at Olik and nodded.

  “I don’t like it.”

  He twisted his head about sharply, and it looked like he might even reach for a weapon. Instead, he settled for adopting a solid stance with his hands kept low. Teresa knew this position, and it was the classic defensive posture taught in the Corps for uncertain situations.

  Non-threatening, but ready. What is it?

  “Colonel!” he said, answering her unspoken question.

  The entire group looked in the direction he had indicated. A group of black clad marines entered the space and was heading directly toward them. Teresa counted eight in total, and all were fully armored in PDS Alpha armor. None wore any form of identification, and they moved in unison, unlike any marines she was used to. The group finally stopped and from behind them came a man in a dark suit and long gray coat. He moved to the front and looked at each of them before stopping at Teresa.

  “Johnson?”

  “Intelligence Director Johnson, Colonel Morato,” he answered politely.

  Teresa ignored those around her, walked right up to him, stopping barely a meter from the man. They looked at each other before Teresa finally moved in closer and grabbed him. They held each other for a short moment while the others watched on uncomfortably. She finally stepped back and looked at him.

 

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