Star Crusades Nexus: Book 06 - Call to Arms

by Michael G. Thomas

  He didn’t want to, but something forced him to look up. He was astonished to see the ship was intact but venting substantial amounts of propellant into space. It had started to roll but very slowly.

  “She’s dead in the water, and the enemy has ships moving to blockade the Rift. We also have a single Bioray on an intercept course.”

  The Admiral rubbed his hand on his chin.

  “What about the rest of their forces? Tell me they are falling back.”

  Captain Horner checked the status indicators on his display for all the combat units in the base. Most of the action was still taking place near the plaza, and it took only seconds to get the full picture.

  “Commander Osk has full control of the plaza. Biomech forces have been routed from all areas other than the hangar for Tamarisk II.”

  “So, more made it in, how?”

  Captain Horner pointed at one of the screens. It showed the tunnel the ship had used to escape to the surface. All of the defensive turrets had either been destroyed in their crash or during the short and bloody battle.

  “Two Biorays made it down the tunnel and crashed inside the hangar. Osk has sent two platoons to deal with them. Other than that, the base is safe and secure.”

  Admiral Churchill looked unconvinced.

  “Two Biorays, that’s about two hundred enemy troops. Am I right?”

  “Yes, Admiral, but Osk sent in the Red Watch. They are more than capable of dealing with them. After the fight with Olik, I think the rest are looking for some payback.”

  He looked back at the images of the ship.

  I bet they are. Still, rather have them with us than against us.

  “So, the primary assault here has failed, and their fleet has redirected to deal with Tamarisk II.”

  He pointed at the Biomech ships on the screen.

  “All of their ships?”

  Captain Horner nodded.

  “Yes, Admiral. The entire Biomech fleet is redeploying around the Rift to block their escape and to take control of Tamarisk II. Unless she gets her engines operational soon, they will not make it.”

  “I see.”

  He tapped the icon to the ship and reached Director Johnson almost immediately.

  “Director, what’s happened?”

  The video connection was down, but the partially jammed audio remained intact.

  “Admiral, we have engine damage and breached compartments. I have teams moving back to restart the generators, but it’s going to take time.”

  “You don’t have long. They are sending a Bioray right for you.”

  “Understood, Admiral. The engines should be back in a few minutes, but we’re not gonna be fast.”

  “What about your guns?”

  “Computer targeting is down until the generators are back. I have the Colonel getting marines in position to repel boarders. The guns can be worked manually if necessary, why?”

  “I see. Forget defending against a boarding action. I need your troops to keep them busy until...”

  “Until what, Admiral?”

  “Just hold them for twelve more minutes, and you’ll be clear to make a run for the Rift. Just make sure you use any power you have left for the run. Have you got that?”

  The audio cut, and the Admiral looked to the Captain who’d been listening to the entire conversation.

  “Is it time?” he asked.

  Admiral Churchill nodded.

  “Send the signal to ANS Dreadnought. It’s time for them to come out of hiding.”

  All eyes inside the Prometheus base turned to the vast storm clouds that surrounded the world of Prometheus. Arcs of lighting flashed back and forth, and the clouds themselves seemed to glow with pure energy. One crashed down only a short distance from Tamarisk II and faded away into the blackness.

  “There she is!” said the Captain in a much too excited tone.

  At first it was just the bow, but then the entire bulk of the heavy warship emerged from the clouds of energy. She had been lashed from bow to stern, and there were scorch marks and superficial damage to almost every external part of the hull.

  So, the displacements fields worked, to a point.

  He made a mental note to thank the engineer teams for those modifications, especially the work of the renowned scientist, Sanlav.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Hyperion had proven itself many times to be a valued training ground for Alliance marines. Through an agreement forged with the Jötnar leadership, a number of training bases were established so that new recruits could hone their skills on such a dangerous world. It was the only place where the offspring of the Biomechs’ hideous beasts were allowed to live and roam in relative peace. The large numbers of dangerous creatures gave the marines a new way to test their survival skills, and more importantly to the Jötnar, it gave them another reason to hold their infamous hunts. These events were known throughout the Alliance as an almost guaranteed way to get a nasty injury or possible even lose your life. For most, that was a risk too far, but to the Jötnar, it made the adventure all that more entertaining.

  The New Colonies

  Spartan paced forward and backward and then stopped in front of Marcus. Khan and the Biomech Z'Kanthu were also there but said nothing. He looked at his old friend and though he wanted to trust the man, he was still finding it difficult to shake of their last encounter. There was little love lost between them now, and under other circumstances, he might have simply struck him with his fist. He seemed to have firsthand knowledge of the Mars installation and access to Alliance Intelligence.

  I still don’t trust him, he realized.

  “Marcus, are you certain this will take us to the top-level landing platform? Is it even intact?”

  Marcus nodded quickly.

  “Trust me, Spartan. I know my way around this place. This access shaft is for tracked vehicle to take parts and supplies from the platform to the lower levels.”

  He then indicated toward Z'Kanthu with his thumb.

  “Plus, it’s the only way up that is big enough for him to get through.”

  Captain Cobb moved closer with his small group of operatives and an equal number of the civilians that they’d rounded up so far. He had said relatively little up until this point.

  “Spartan. Isn’t it time we made contact with Dauntless? We need help down here.”

  Z'Kanthu moved his torso slightly.

  “That would be unwise. The enemy could intercept communications other than direct line-of-sight. We can hold them here, but not indefinitely.”

  “How tall is this tower?”

  Marcus looked up. The tunnel was a wide, winding affair that had been cut directly into the rock of Mars.

  “It doesn’t so much extend out of the surface. It’s more a deep tunnel that runs to a landing system about three stories above the surface. The bulk of the tower is under the ground. For safety, it is completely isolated from the rest of the base. The only way in is either from the bottom or from above and through the landing platforms themselves.

  Captain Cobb seemed satisfied with the explanation.

  “Makes sense. My plans for the site show three similar structures. What about the rest of my civilians back there?”

  Spartan shook his head.

  “Not today, Captain. We get this group to safety, and then we can start thinking about what to do with the rest.”

  “Spartan, I have my own resources. We can...”

  Khan moved between them and raised his hand to point, but Cobb assumed he was about to strike him. He lifted his weapon, and Khan merely batted it aside, knocking the rifle to the ground.

  “No, not with these people. You saw what happened when you went up against the Biomechs. You fought and they kicked your ass, plain and simple.”

  Khan was correct, but the pained look on the Captain’s face betrayed a helplessness Khan would never truly understand. He lowered his head just a little and moved to the fallen weapon. He bent down, grabbed the rifle, and then looke
d back to Spartan.

  “We might not have the weapons, the armor or the training, but I’ll be damned if we’re going to leave our people to be butchered down there. I’ve seen the stories from Prometheus and the Bone Mill. Those things...it can’t be allowed to happen.”

  Spartan placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “I promise you, once we have these people away, we’ll work out a way to help the rest. Better some saved today than none saved tomorrow. Understood?”

  Captain Cobb nodded reluctantly and walked back in the direction they’d been heading for some time. The rest kept on moving with him until just Spartan and Z'Kanthu remained. As Spartan followed them, the machine spoke.

  “I am detecting the presence of the enemy. They are coming.”

  Spartan closed his eyes a little, and they looked back down the tunnel. It was a long way back inside.

  “How long?”

  The machine paused, and it seemed Z'Kanthu might not have heard him. Spartan started to speak again, but it interrupted him.

  “There are few at the moment.”

  Again it paused, looking back in the same direction as Spartan.

  “”They are Thegn scouts. It will take them nearly fifty minutes to make this climb. We must keep moving. As soon as they find us, they will call upon the rest of the bandon, and then the main attack will begin.”

  Spartan needed no further encouragement.

  “Then let’s get to the top of this place and get a signal out to Dauntless.”

  He was about to move but looked back.

  “You said you deactivated the Rift back to Terra Nova, didn’t you?”

  The machine nodded it archaic armored head.

  “That is correct.”

  “Can you reopen it?”

  The machine extended its arm, and a panel opened to reveal some kind of computer communication system. At least that was what he thought he was looking at.

  “Of course, why?”

  Spartan grinned so widely his crooked teeth showed.

  “Because we’re going to make a telephone call.”

  The machine’s grasp of Spartan’s language had been impeccable up until this point. As the Alliance warrior moved away, it watched him and tried to understand exactly what he had just said.

  Telephone call?

  * * *

  The journey to the outer hull of ANS Tamarisk II had been a truly worrying experience for Teresa. She’d only made it halfway to Olik when Director Johnson had contacted her and given her the change of plans. Her APS suit had been designed to operate in all environments, including deep space, but it was something she’d never been fond of. With the artificial gravity system offline, it reminded her of the old days when the fleet had been based around large ships packed with rotating sections.

  Here we go.

  Teresa pulled open the final airlock door and instinctively held her breath. It slid open smoothly and with no noise of any kind. Moving from the ship required a sharp tug on the grab handles, and then she was out in space. Captain Thompson followed behind, along with four more marines; each armored and armed in the same fashion as her. Teresa moved aside so each of them could move from the airlock. She then ensured it was closed and sealed behind her.

  “You know the deal, and the plan has changed. Johnson needs the guns online while the engineers get the generators back. Each of you to the turrets, and keep your heads down.”

  A chorus of acknowledgements came from them, and then they were off. ANS Tamarisk II shared a basic design philosophy with the original ship, but the actual layout was completely different. It was a much more streamlined and far more elegant vessel that demonstrated the sweeping technological changes that had torn through the Alliance following the Uprising. That had been partially to advances made during the military build-up in the War, but mainly down to the reverse engineering of captured Echidna technology.

  Keep your eyes on the job.

  Teresa traveled along the side of the ship and pulled herself over the top and onto the dorsal section. Large container sections were dotted along the hull, giving the impression they were designed to carry all manner of supplies. In reality, these containers were armored sections that hid the guns systems from view.

  Almost there.

  It took Teresa a little longer than she’d expected to reach the already open section. The route she’d taken required climbing around a large number of communication arrays and escape systems. It was a little confusing because from a distance the upper hull looked much smoother and clearer than it actually was.

  “Colonel, are you there?” asked the Director.

  “Johnson, have some patience. Half of my unit is in position. I’m almost at my station.”

  “Okay, good. Can you see the Bioray?”

  Teresa stopped for a moment and looked slightly to the left off the bow to look for the ship. It wasn’t easy to spot the shape even at this close range, and it took a few seconds her eyes to adjust until she found it.

  “Yeah, I see it. How long do we have?”

  “Well, she’s holding position at one eighty kilometers.”

  “Holding, why?”

  “Because they’ve launched small assault craft. I estimate they are about the size of a Cobra, maybe up to the size of a Hammerhead.”

  Teresa shook her head and sighed.

  “How much time?”

  Again there was a short pause, and then he returned. Teresa could tell from the tone in his voice that it wasn’t good.

  “Forty seconds! Teresa, you have to stop them coming aboard. My guys need five more minutes at the very least.”

  “I’m on it!” she replied and pulled herself inside the shallow container where a pair of quad mounted auto cannons sat motionless. The sides of the container had folded back so that they now only extended about a meter from the hull. It left the turrets exposed and vulnerable but also provided them with a full degree of movement from the front to the back of the ship; as well as an almost completely clear three-hundred and sixty degree view of the upper side of the vessel.

  “Fifteen seconds!” said Johnson again.

  “Got it.”

  Teresa activated the channel to the marines on the ship.

  “Incoming boarding parties at ten o’clock high. Don’t let them get here.”

  Teresa moved to the armored mount between the pair of turrets and pulled herself behind to where a small display and set of manual controls was fitted. Compared to the system inside the ship, it was positively archaic. She looked closely and quickly recognized the unit as one of the shielded emplacement controls used for base turrets by the Corps.

  These aren’t even naval weapon systems.

  In some ways it was better this way though. Teresa was very familiar with the technology, even if she hadn’t had much access to it for well over a decade.

  “Five seconds!”

  The panel flipped open with just a tap on the spring mechanism. It was nothing but a rudimentary and unpowered iron sight, without even an optical stabilizer or level of magnification. The gunnery controls based round a torsion bar connected directly to the turret mechanics. The powered system was offline, but in the weightlessness of space it was not an issue. Teresa moved the sight so that it pointed directly at the dot that was the Bioray. She put her fingers on the angled bar that functioned as the override trigger. The first of the assault craft almost flew overhead before she spotted it. The multicolored shape flashed by so fast she had no time to track it.

  “Damn it!”

  She swung the turrets back and looked for signs of the rest. Then she spotted a third and fourth craft circling around the damaged rear of the ship. Without a computer or any tracking guidance, she quickly estimated how much lead would be required and then depressed the lever. The turret shook violently, and the case flew from the breaches as the quad weapons blasted away. The violence of the weapons fire seemed odd compared to the complete silence in space. Even so, the first six rounds flew i
n front of the craft and missed. Teresa held down the trigger long enough for the craft to move directly into her fire. It was moving so fast that only three of the flank rounds struck it.

  “Got you,” she muttered, swinging the mount back to track another target that had appeared to her right. As the other marines spotted the targets, they flagged them via their own sensors and shared the information with the rest controlling the guns. It was a far cry from the tracking systems used on the ship, but it was the next best thing. In less than five seconds, the six marines had established a digital dome around the ship that extended over two hundred meters.

  “Good work, people,” she said as one of the craft was hit by the concentrated fire of three turrets.

  The remaining craft moved back to the rear of Tamarisk II and opened fire on the already damaged engine section.

  “Teresa, you have to keep them from the stern,” said Johnson over the intercom.

  Teresa was already on it and had swung the guns back but was unable to depress them further without striking Tamarisk II herself. She didn’t even notice the group of fighters coming in from the left flank. Streams of gunfire peppered the dorsal turrets, and she was forced to pull herself behind the first gun mount as cannon rounds smashed the weapon systems apart.

  “Colonel, we have fighters all around. Port and stern guns are down,” said Captain Thompson.

  Teresa shook her head angrily as she looked at the ruins of the two turret mounts. The guns appeared to be working fine, but the mounts were smashed and locked so that the guns were pointing exactly where there was no enemy. More shots hit the ship, and reports from the other marines announced the same problem.

  So, our guns are all gone. Now they will board us, and this will all have been in vain.

  “Colonel, what the hell is going on out there?” demanded Johnson.

  Teresa looked at the formation of assault craft behind her and noted the icons on her visor showing the growing number of fighters. She tried to stay calm, but the prospect of being surrounded and boarded by the Biomechs was something she would never allow. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments and then opened them to the horror of the Bioray. It must have been moving closer during the battle because when she looked back to the bow of ANS Tamarisk II, it filled her entire view. An image appeared on her visor. It was Johnson.