The Great Betrayal

by Michael G. Thomas

  “What is it, Captain?”

  “We’ve been betrayed, Admiral. The Narau, they are landing…”

  The image turned black, and the sound cut off abruptly.

  Lieutenant Ryante moved her tactical formation details to the right side of the main screen. It showed the positions of the Narau forces, the Khreenk battleship and its escorts, and finally their own ships.

  “Admiral, the Narau ships have split up.”

  “What’s happening?”

  None of the officers knew what to say.

  “Get me Admiral Lanthua!” he growled angrily.

  The communications officer tried to reach the alien commander to no avail. Though most of the officers were busy managing their stations, a quiet lull fell throughout the CIC as the Admiral looked at the situation he was in.

  I knew they would go for it. So, Anderson’s information from Alliance Intelligence was right. The Khreenk are in league with the leaders of the military coup.

  He almost rubbed his hands with anticipation until the realization it could mean open confrontation with an entire alien empire. Even so, this had been one of the potential outcomes, and he was still uncertain the Khreenk would chance anything more than smuggling. He looked to his crew with a newfound confidence.

  “So, we’re halfway to this unknown fleet, and the Narau are breaking up with some of their ships heading for Helios, is that right?”

  Lieutenant Ryante nodded at him.

  “Yes, Admiral. It appears the Khreenk ships are moving to high orbit over the planet. Either they are planning on a blockade of their own, or they are...”

  “Planning to land ground troops on the surface?” finished Admiral Lewis.

  Lieutenant Ryante grimaced in acknowledgement.

  Bastards! So they really do think they can put forces on the surface. Would they dare put up a fight against our troops?

  He looked to his executive officer waiting at his right-hand side.

  “If we turn back, they will still have time to land a good number of craft, plus, we will leave this fleet at our back. We either take on one fleet, or we split our forces.”

  Admiral Lewis had already worked this out, and he was starting to wish he’d simply kept his fleet in orbit around Helios. It had been stupid to pull back when there were so many unknown variables. He beckoned for General Daniels to enter the CIC from the adjoining room. The Marine officer finished whatever he was doing and left his own small group of officers to join the Admiral. Admiral Lewis pointed to the main screen.

  “It’s worse than I expected.”

  The General grimaced.

  “It usually is.”

  “My ships have been drawn out, and part of the Khreenk contingent of the Narau is heading for an orbital position. I suspect they intend to drop mercenaries to the surface to support the forces of Justitium Lyssk and the Animosh.”

  Daniels examined the information carefully. Though of equal seniority to the Admiral, he had seen much more combat that the Naval officer during the Uprising. He could instantly see their situation, as well as the predicament it put him and his men in.

  “Admiral, my marines can hold, for now. My advice is for...”

  One of the junior officers assisting the helmsmen cried out. Both senior officers looked at him and then moved their eyes to track the shapes on the main screen.

  “Admiral, the fleet has altered its approach vector and is launching fighters.”

  “The target?” he replied, already knowing the answer.

  “Us, Admiral. They are powering up their weapons. My sensors indicate they are a mixture of combat drones and autonomous fighters.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, Admiral, they are unmanned and heading this way.”

  The entire situation was now playing out exactly as he had expected. The hidden fleet had lured him away from the planet, and just when he thought it might be a good idea to change course, they threatened him.

  Quite clever, really. By attacking with unmarked ships, and with no crew, the Khreenk can pretend it was nothing to do with them. But what if that is true?

  That last thought unsettled him slightly. The potential for error was great.

  “That settles it then.”

  He beckoned to General Daniels and his XO.

  “This is going to get messy and fast. Get word to your people on the ground. Either they hold up and wait till we can assist, or they go for broke. I’m sending three ships back to assist with the bulk of the 4th Marine Heavy Battalion under Colonel Horst Brünner.”

  “But they won’t make it back in time,” stated the XO.

  “Normally, I would agree with you, that is assuming they follow the normal rules. I’m giving a full override to Commodore Andon Leson. The ships will proceed at 1.5G on a reverse course.”

  The raised eyebrows from the XO did little to deter him.

  “They can handle it for a few hours. I suspect Gun’s kin will probably enjoy it.”

  He then looked to General Daniels.

  “I suggest you take a shuttle and board ANS Crusader. She will be your command ship until I can get back to you.”

  He looked at the data his tactical officer had sent over.

  “Yes, that is good. The Khreenk ships will have ninety minutes before you reach them. If they are deploying ground forces, we have full authority to fire on them.”

  General Daniels looked surprised.

  “Against the Khreenk? Wouldn’t that be an act of war?”

  Admiral Lewis appeared to calm a little while answering this question.

  “Not at all. We are allied with the Helions now, and their assistance has been requested. An attack by mercenaries is an attack on their sovereign soil. We are in fact now obligated to act.”

  Daniels wondered if the Admiral had done this on purpose to force the hand of the Khreenk.

  “Very well. I will transfer my staff to ANS Crusader. Good luck, Admiral, you are going to have an interesting encounter out there.”

  He looked at the screen once more and sighed as he examined the vast bulk of the Khreenk battleship. It was an impressive looking vessel, heavily armored, and armed to the teeth, according to the figures running along both sides of the main screen. He turned and marched back to his small group of officers. Admiral Lewis called to his communications officer.

  “Get me Anderson on the horn and fast. This is going to get messy, very messy!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  What was the leadership behind Echidna during the Uprising? The War was over and the Alliance spreading its light from world to world, yet few understood what had actually happened. The Zealots were a holdover from the days of the Great War and the many religious persecutions. The military leaders of the Echidna Union seemed to share one thing in common, a desire for advancement no matter what weapons were used. There were even rumors that the icons themselves were payment for the technology of the Biomechs, a contract that only a handful of people would ever known about.

  Holy Icons

  Spartan inched around the corner of the passageway so that he could check out the next bend. The slow pulsing of the red warning lights had been running for more than ten minutes, and yet there was still no sign of any level of security.

  “Where the hell are the guards?” asked Khan.

  Spartan threw him a sideways glance, raising a hand to tell him to stay silent. He looked back around the corner and watched the shape of one more Biomech machine. As before, this looked like one of the senior machines, like the ones that had captured and tortured Khan. He felt a pain in his left hand but tried to ignore it; the hand was now long gone. He rested the T’Kari rifle on his broken arm and took careful aim. This machine was almost totally stripped of any color, because of disinterest or perhaps age. Even so, it was as big as Khan and moved on two massive legs. They seemed oversized compared to the smaller torso. In front and behind marched a dozen T’Kari, each in fully enclosed armored suits and rifles at their shoulders. Thei
r feet made an odd sucking sound as the magboots attached and detached in rhythm on the floor.

  “We have company,” Spartan whispered to his friend.

  One of the T’Kari stepped forward rather than using the lack of gravity to move effortlessly. Spartan tried to reach out, but the female had already stepped out from the cover and into the passageway facing the approaching machine. Spartan took aim with his borrowed rifle, but Khan pushed down on the barrel. Spartan looked at him and his shaking head.

  “No, she must have a plan.”

  He looked back and watched carefully. He could now make out the shape of the Biomech with greater certainty. The legs were substantial, yet he noticed there was no discernible head. The torso was egg-shaped, and six or more spindly arms hung down loosely around the body.

  “What is it?” asked Khan.

  Spartan looked at the thing, but he could honestly find nothing useful to Khan. The female T’Kari walked halfway toward the party before lifting her hand and saying something in the T’Kari language. Those around the Biomech looked confused and then started arguing with her. The machine took a single step forward before the female T’Kari turned around and pointed in the direction of Spartan. One of them must have spotted something because they spoke quickly and excitedly. The machine twisted and faced in the same direction, with two arms pointing out toward and right at him.

  “The bastards, they’ve betrayed us!” growled Khan.

  Without magboots, their mobility was limited. Even so, Spartan moved out from cover and took direct aim at the machine.

  If I can kill one of their masters, maybe they’ll go a little lighter on us? he thought optimistically.

  Before he was able to shoot, the group of T’Kari turned on the machine, and three opened fire with their rifles. The others attacked it with whatever tools or weapons they could find. An arm was torn off, and a T’Kari spun out into the passageway with blood spurting from a deep gash to the neck.

  “Nice!” roared Khan, and with a kick he floated off toward the machine.

  Spartan took aim, but in the bloody melee there was no opportunity to open fire. He was forced to close the distance like Khan, but by the time they had arrived, another T’Kari lay dead and the machine was smashed to ruin. Spartan stopped in front of the female who had once more opened her helm to reveal her face. She looked at him and then to her people. Her words streamed out, but Spartan very quickly recognized his name.

  “Uh, Spartan, how does she know who you are?”

  He shrugged in reply.

  “How the hell would I know?”

  Khan tapped his shoulder, and he looked back to see the group of ten T’Kari plus the two they had already found. The female nodded to him, and then in a shocking move, all twelve lowered themselves to a single knee, as if he was some kind of savior.

  “I think they like you,” laughed Khan suspiciously.

  “Yeah, weird, right?”

  He sensed they might be able to help though, if properly motivated. More sounds from behind them in the next passageway encouraged him to make a decision, and fast.

  “Follow me!”

  Spartan pulled himself out of the corridor and into yet another wide passageway. By his count, this was the seventh storage area inside the station. It seemed like Spartan and Khan had been on the station for days, yet he suspected it was an hour, probably a great deal less. The more he thought about it, the more he suspected it was closer to thirty minutes. They reached the end and came to a crossroads. The female T’Kari pointed to the right-hand entrance for them all to go through.

  “Where do you think it goes?” asked Khan.

  Spartan raised an eyebrow.

  “Really? Come on, let’s see what she has to show us.”

  They went down the much smaller passageway, a hexagonal shaft with observation windows on two sides. As they moved along, it gave them a wide view of different parts of the space platform they were inside. From the shape of the structures, the Rift generator plants, and number of moored vessels, it was clearly something much more than just a control station. They had already spotted at least a dozen massive hangars. As they pushed on, Spartan wondered what else might be aboard this place, other than storage rooms filled with tubes that contained creatures and machines of many configurations. The female T’Kari beckoned to one of the larger doors. As he approached, it automatically opened. He pulled himself inside, and Khan watched him go in before moving to follow. There was something about this particular section that stopped Spartan in his tracks.

  “Just look at this place,” he said quietly.

  Khan moved in right behind him and moved his head slowly, taking in the detail. He counted hundreds of cylinders, and that was just in the one room, each of them stacked five high. He counted at least five more rows of the same. Spartan stayed with the two T’Kari, but his curiosity forced him to move closer. It took only a few seconds to reach the nearest of the pod type devices. Tubes ran above and below the unit, and different colored fluids ran continually.

  Khan leaned forward until his face touched the dull transparent plastic. His reflection appeared far worse than he would ever have imagined. The face looking back at him was pale and tired. He was surprised at his transformation during his captivity.

  “Man, do I look bad!” He stared at the pod.

  “What is it?”

  Khan looked back to Spartan and shook his head bitterly.

  “It’s Biomechs again, just like me.”

  Spartan wasn’t as shocked as Khan. He had seen this technology on several occasions before. Leaving the two T’Kari, he pushed off from the ground and drifted toward the first pod. Khan grabbed him and pulled him close to the misted transparent front. The face inside was definitely a synthetic and close, if not identical, to those created in the middle of the Uprising. The female T’Kari pointed at the pod and then to Khan. He shook his head, but it wasn’t at all clear if they understood what he was trying to communicate.

  “No, I am free. These are Biomechs warriors.”

  The female spoke with her comrade and then moved back to her group, her boots making that odd sucking sound. Khan turned his attention to Spartan who was turning his head to get the scope of the place.

  “This place is a storage site, like a forward base of operations.”

  Khan nodded in agreement.

  “For where though?”

  Spartan raised an eyebrow at his question.

  “Remember the Rift this place is right next to? My guess is they are waiting here to send these troops into battle against a station or colony. ”

  “Ours?”

  Spartan moved his head from side to side.

  “Maybe. Remember how many Biomechs were unleashed in the Uprising. We wondered how the Zealots managed to get so many, so fast. What if the Biomechs had given them a force to start with, and then the tech to create more?”

  “Why though? If they have the troops, they could manage on their own.”

  Spartan wasn’t quite sure what the answer was to that particular question. All he knew was that no matter where he traveled, he seemed to come across machines and Biomechanical creatures that had been built for one purpose, the total destruction of an area. Then it dawned on him. He pulled Khan closer to his face.

  “They aren’t looking to conquer. How much territory did the Biomechs themselves ever take in the War? The creatures were just tools, weapons for their war. I have an idea.”

  “Really,” muttered Khan. He had no idea where Spartan was going with this line of thought.

  “I think these Biomechs aren’t as powerful as you might think. They want people, races, and empires at war. They want struggle and weakness.”

  “But why?”

  Spartan had been thinking on this problem long and hard. There were many things to consider when it came to the wars against the Zealots and their masters. The more he discovered, the more complicated the entire thing became.

  “You remember the machines on the s
hip; they were ancient creatures, cocooned inside advanced machine bodies. If you were thousands of years old, wouldn’t you want to stay that way?”

  Khan said nothing and returned his gaze to the dead face of the thing inside the pod. It saddened him to see what amounted to as a cousin inside these chambers. His kin might be reproducing naturally now, but they would never forget their roots; one based on blood, deception, and science. Spartan watched him and glanced at the waiting T’Kari before continuing.

  “They do not have the numbers, so they use others to keep themselves safe. They send this technology against all of us to keep any of us from turning our attention from our own troubles and back onto them.”

  Khan thought about it. It wasn’t something that had really occurred to him, but the more he considered it, the more it made sense.

  “Interesting, so they wait behind their Biomech warriors and ships, and send agents throughout worlds to start wars and spread destruction while their own worlds stay fat and safe.”

  Khan turned around to face Spartan. His face had changed to bitter anger.

  “Remember our interrogation, Khan? I don’t at all, but I do recall part of what they passed on about their world. They are powerful, and they see themselves like gods. But they are ancient, and there are no more of them.”

  “The leader, the one who opened up his armor?”

  Spartan smiled grimly.

  “Yeah, their bodies inside are broken and old. The massive one that tried to arrive on Hyperion was probably one of their commanders. Their robotic bodies get bigger and more powerful I suspect to match their position.”

  Khan’s lip curled up again.

  “Then I say we get home, build up a fleet, bring fire to their worlds, and end this once and for all, unless we want the cycle to go on forever.”

  Spartan nodded slowly in his direction.

  “My thoughts exactly, old friend.”

  Spartan hadn’t actually considered the cycle idea, but it did make sense. He began to wonder what might have happened if the Confederacy hadn’t won in the Great Uprising. Would something else have then attempted to tear whatever was left apart?