Star Crusades Nexus: Book 03 - Heroes of Helios

by Michael G. Thomas

  “What is it?” she called out, unable to wait any longer.

  This time the Helion completely ignored her. She even shouted over to him, but he acted as though he couldn’t hear a thing. Even as the vessel settled onto the ground, there was no reply. Doors slid sideways on both side sections of its hull, and a strong gust of fog and dust blew inside. The clamps released around Teresa just in time for her to lift her hands and cover her face. She could feel the warm dust moving past and then it was clear. She lowered them to see four of the watchers waiting and looking at her. Vigilis was outside on a masonry platform with more of the same people. The two nearest watchers beckoned for her to approach. She stepped close, and they moved to follow her.

  “Tell me, what is going on?”

  They said nothing, however, and she walked out and into the open street. Vigilis had walked away, and the watchers were spreading out in small groups. That was when she realized they had landed directly opposite the great Alliance warship. Hovering fire tenders moved about and blew liquids over the hull while a number of heavy built engineer vehicles maneuvered about it. There were many small fires but none apparently from the ship.

  It looks intact.

  Then Teresa came to a sudden realization.

  Where the hell is the crew?

  Near the fires were dark shapes, and as she drew closer, she instantly recognized Alliance naval uniforms. Vigilis had stopped near a line of shapes, and she broke out into a run, stopping alongside him. Arranged in a neat row were the bodies of a dozen crew, including a senior officer. She knelt down and rolled the body over so she could see the man’s face.

  “No!” she cried upon spotting the insignia of the ship’s Captain. As an automatic reaction, she reached down for her sidearm, but Vigilis had already stepped away and was pointing at another body, this time a Helion in robes. He finally spoke to her.

  “These are the bodies of Zathee rebels. I think we understand what is going on here.”

  Teresa, on the other hand, looked at them with barely concealed anger. It was incredible that a heavy alliance starship, one capable of transporting a battalion of marines, and over a thousand crew, could have been brought so low. Even worse though was that the survivors had been murdered where they stood. She pictured Jack and was tempted to rush about looking for his body.

  Calm down, either he’s here or he isn’t.

  One of the watchers moved from another group and spoke with Vigilis. The Helion’s voice was low-pitched and almost impossible to hear even from just a few meters away. She looked at his clothing, helmet, and weapons and wondered quite why an internal police unit would be created like this. Vigilis nodded and sent him away before walking to Teresa. He turned and pointed out into the distance and at a large dark structure.

  “My watchers say a group of prisoners from your ship has been taken to a rebel stronghold.”

  A flight of a dozen ducted fan bikes flew overhead in a loose formation. All were flown by one of the watchers, apart from a slightly larger model. This one was easily triple the size and fitted with four bigger fans and a large open topped crew section. This particular craft was filled with at least five more of the watchers. Vigilis shouted over to another of the squads moving around the crashed ship. Teresa picked up just one word, but it was used often.

  “What is Animosh?” she called out.

  Vigilis looked at her as if he was going to ignore her. She raised her eyebrows in anticipation, and he quickly gave in.

  “Animosh, it is the Helion word for our watchers.”

  “They are in pursuit of the rebels?”

  Vigilis nodded.

  “Yes. I suggest you stay here and assist my people with recovery. Apparently, there are signs of life near the rear of the ship. It might be Zathee. It might also be your own people.”

  Teresa was tempted, but only for a second.

  What is he hiding?

  A sound from near one of the damaged landing legs caught her ear. She spun about to see a small group of scruffily dressed people. They were definitely not Animosh, but they also looked very different to the Helions she had seen back in the more prosperous parts of the city. They moved closer and appeared non-threatening. One of them noticed Teresa and pointed directly at her. Vigilis called out to his guards, and they move in closely around him, each with their weapons raised.

  “Wait!” she called out, lifting her hands as a warning.

  The nearest of the new group pulled open his robe and held up secpad so that she could see it. Whether they wanted to trade it or give it to her, she had no idea. Either way it didn’t matter because the next words from the mouth of Vigilis resulted in its destruction. The Animosh opened fire with their firearms as a single unit. In just a single second, all of them had unleashed thermal rounds that burst against the Helions’ flesh, instantly melting whatever they touched. The entire group was dead and scattered before the secpad hit the ground.

  “Stop this!” she cried, but none of them were interested in the words of an Alliance officer. She tried to move closer to the bodies, but a pair of Animosh were among them and shooting again at those they thought might still live. She was finally there and looked down to see the device had taken a thermal round to its center. She lifted it up and dropped it when the heat sent pangs of pain through her body. Vigilis kicked over the bodies with no respect for who they were, or even the fact that they were his kin.

  “These Zathee wanted to trade your people for weapons, explosives, and prisoners. I suspect they are the ones responsible for shooting your crew.”

  And now we can’t interrogate them, can we? she thought bitterly.

  While Vigils continued to issue orders to his people, Teresa turned away and pulled out her secpad. The connection to General Rivers was still active but was starting to experience signal degradation, presumably for the same reasons the ship itself had lost contact. The old General’s face appeared, and she was surprised to see he was no longer where she’d left him. Instead, he was on board a ship of some kind.

  “General?”

  “Major Morato,” he replied sternly, “have you heard the news about the rebels?”

  She shook her head.

  “No, General, what is it?”

  “According to the security officials here, there has been an attempted coup. The capitol is on lockdown, and ships are unable to land.”

  Teresa looked at him but wasn’t convinced at the news. She moved her face closer to the device so that nobody nearby would hear her.

  “I don’t trust them, General. There are no survivors from the ship, just bodies of those that stayed on board. They are blaming the rebels.”

  “You don’t agree?”

  Teresa moved the device discreetly so that he could see the ground through its built-in cameras. She walked a few meters but held it down low over the bodies of the obliterated Zathee. She didn’t stop and moved past and then toward a wrecked escape pod that was still sealed from the inside and empty. It must have ejected when they hit the ground. Her interest was not in the smashed piece of equipment; it was more to block the line of sight between her and the Animosh. She looked at the secpad and the face of the General.

  “I don’t trust them. According to Vigilis, a group of rebels have taken our people prisoners. There are no survivors here.”

  He nodded at this and appeared to not be particularly surprised.

  “Reports from the escape pods show most have concentrated in one of the urban districts. Gun is coordinating their recovery.”

  “Gun?”

  General Rivers smiled.

  “Not even the Helions will refuse his demands. He’s taken half the Hammerheads and shuttles to assist. If you need him, just call.”

  Teresa knew exactly what he meant it, and it reminded her of quite how vulnerable she was out in this part of Helios. She glanced about, watching the Animosh watchers as they dragged bodies away from the damaged buildings or continued searching.

  What if they turn on
me?

  It was as if Vigilis had read her mind. He finished whatever it was that he was doing and started back toward her. Four of his watchers marched at his flanks with their weapons ready but lowered. She moved her hand down and alongside her holster.

  “Major, the rest of your people are being cared for in our city barracks. I understand your Chairman of the Joint Chiefs is helping arrange their safe return.”

  He then pointed at the large structured in the distance. The fog and smoke were continuing to clear, and the damage to the Zathee district was even more obvious to see.

  “I have word that your prisoners are in the heart of rebel territory, right there. My watchers have tracked them and await my order.”

  As if to emphasis the point, he lifted a hand, as though all it would take would be for him to make a simple gesture and it would all be over.

  “I have my best extraction team on standby and ready to move in. Would you like to join us?”

  Teresa had expected a gunfight, and this request was something of a surprise.

  “Join you for what?”

  “Well, these situations can be very delicate. It might be useful to have you there.”

  More like if it goes wrong, I can be accidentally eliminated.

  One of the larger four ducted fan aircraft swept down low and hovered a half meter from the ground and to the side of Vigilis. He jumped up with surprising speed and dexterity. As he moved, Teresa spotted the flash of a carbine length weapon under his flowing robes. It instantly reminded her of what was at stake, and also that she had to be careful.

  “Well?” he asked.

  There was no time to hesitate, and she lifted herself up to the machine. One of the Animosh reached out with a black-gloved hand to assist, but she ignored it and stepped on board. There were no seats, just a series of vertical pillars with clamps fitted on their fronts. Teresa stepped toward it, and a pair of mag clamps locked her in place. Then they were in the air and climbing rapidly. A cloud of the smaller one-manned vehicles closed around them like a small swarm, and they were off. The speed was well over a hundred kilometers an hour, and she could feel the wind blasting her. Only the thinly armored cowl on the front deflected the air as they pushed on. She looked past the cowl and to their target, a line of tall structures that were coming closer and closer to her. Only then did she allow herself hope that if there were survivors, Jack would be among them.

  * * *

  The view from the twenty-fifth floor was impressive, and for the briefest of moments, Jack looked out feeling nothing but awe. The Zathee district was far less impressive in terms of architecture when compared to the rest of the planet, but it more than made up for it with the volume of buildings and their industrial style. It was like they were on another world. The smaller buildings and towers appeared more like military fortifications and storage sites than habitable areas. He wasn’t looking out from a window. On this level there were a small number of balconies built out of the same hard material as the rest of the building. He waited outside for a few more seconds before Wictred called over to him.

  “Jack, come on, three more levels.”

  He looked back one last time at the alien world and the thousands of Zathee he could see moving about like gray ants. Land cars, transports, and other vehicles made their way along dust-covered roads, and aircraft flew overhead, but never directly over the Zathee district itself. Jack stepped back inside and onto the wide staircase that was substantial enough they could move up with all three in a line. The levels were widely spaced apart, and it took another two minutes to reach the level Salene had indicated. Unlike every other level, this one seemed deserted. There were two completely open shafts leading down to the ground level so that the passages on this floor looked like a massive ‘H’ shape. Doorways filled the passages, and there must have been room for at least thirty large apartments on this one floor alone. The two shapes were very wide, and as Jack examined them, he suspected an aircraft could probably descend through them.

  “Well?” he asked impatiently.

  Salene moved into the middle of the larger central passageway that was almost ten meters wide and ran the full length of the structure. To the right were six doorways, each sealed and big enough for a vehicle to drive through, assuming it was on that level already. She looked at her small device and walked to the second doorway. Unlike the others, this was in the poorest condition, and the marks of rot around the corners suggested it was uninhabited. She reached within two meters, it hissed open, and a cloud of gray emptied out and filled the passageway. By the time it had cleared, a dozen Helion men were stood there, each wearing dull gray tunics and clothes to cover their faces. The shortest of them, an overweight Helion with a crossed pair of bandoliers, approached Salene and said a single word before spitting on her feet.

  “Watch it!” snapped Jack, and in one action both he and Wictred raised their carbines, taking aim at the group.

  “V'Caani!” called out Salene, raising the object to show them all.

  It was strange for Jack and Wictred. The Helions were evidently doing their best to be threatening, but there was something about them that just didn’t work. Jack looked lean and quick, while the Helions looked soft, almost nervous. He looked to his friend and noticed a similar confused expression on his face. The shorter man walked over to Salene and examined the object. It didn’t take long, just enough for him to hold it and roll it about in his hand. He then returned it and walked back through the doorway and into the cloud. Salene threw Jack a smile and walked in after him.

  “Go,” he called out to his friend. In seconds, they were inside and with her.

  The interior of the level looked tiny to start with, but as the cloud started to dissipate, it moved aside to reveal a half dozen sparsely decorated rooms. There was no art to speak of; just functional storage units and a half dozen people lounging around on a strange collection of seats. At the end of the room were two Helions who looked slightly different to the rest. They waited as if protecting the wall behind them. Neither appeared to carry weapons, but they stood completely still and watched Salene, Jack, and Wictred with emotionless eyes. The shorter Helion moved up to them and spoke quietly. Neither looked at him, but one lifted a device to his mouth and spoke.

  “Where are we?” asked Jack.

  Salene threw her head back to him and leaned close to his ear. She looked almost excited at the prospect of where they were.

  “We’re close to V'Caani,” she said, her mouth almost trembling with the words.

  Jack watched her but couldn’t hide the feeling she was hiding something from them. Her father was dead, yet she had been single-minded in her pursuit of this person. He looked to the others there, noticing every single one of them was watching the three with suspicion clearly showing on their partially covered faces.

  “Yeah, I heard you before. Who is this V'Caani?”

  Salene smiled.

  “You’ll see.”

  A gentle hiss came from the two men, and then a section of the wall lifted up almost a meter. Part of the floor dropped down to reveal a narrow series of steps. One of the guards nodded for them to enter. Salene went first, not even questioning the Helion and as before, Jack followed right behind. Unlike Salene, he was armed and had his carbine lifted and ready for trouble. Wictred moved into the doorframe area and then stopped. He turned around and looked about the room. Dozens of eyes studied the overgrown marine with barely concealed interest.

  “Yeah?”

  None replied, and he simply laughed at them, and moved after Jack. The door hissed behind them, shutting with a thud. It was much darker in this part of the building and no bigger than a normal sized apartment. It was empty other than for a long table that ran through the middle.

  “What now?” Wictred asked.

  The room shook, and Jack lost his footing and stumbled into Wictred. He held his friend steady until he regained his position. This continued for nearly twenty seconds before the shaking slowed and t
hen stopped. The table squeaked gently and then moved aside, revealing another doorway that led underneath. All of them looked at this opening with surprise.

  “Uh, I’m not going down there until you tell us something. Where the hell are we, and who is V'Caani?”

  Salene considered moving forward, but Wictred blocked her path.

  “Something else as well. Why don’t these Zathee understand us?”

  Jack nodded in agreement.

  “Yeah, you’re not telling us something.”

  She tried to move past them, but Wictred’s grip was too firm.

  “Okay, listen. V'Caani is the name we have on Helios for the leadership of the Underground.”

  “What the hell is the Underground, and why do you want to see him?”

  She closed her eyes and then lifted the small circular device to her face.

  “In here are the codes and access information for our entire defense grid.”

  Wictred leaned back with a confused look about him.

  “You would give this to rebels? Why?”

  She depressed the unit, and its lights faded before she returned it to inside her clothing.

  “My father has worked for equality with the Zathee for years, but it has never come about. This is the only way it will be resolved.”

  Wictred moved closer to the passageway and looked down. Salene thought it was a signal, but this time Jack grabbed her. She tried to struggle but was no match for either Jack or Wictred.

  “That was your father. What does this all mean for you?”

  Her face became flat, almost featureless. She answered, but her tone was devoid of emotion.

  “I will finish what my father started. The Zathee won the last war for us on Helios. They deserve their reward.”

  She wriggled free and moved past Jack and to the passageway. Jack chased after her, but she was too quick and moved into the blackness with the two marines hot on her heels. They would have crashed into her if it were not for the pair of large Helions pulling them away. Wictred moved to strike the one but froze upon seeing the face of an oversized Helion warrior. Like him, it was taller, stronger build, and the epitome of a synthetic warrior. A little further inside the pitch-black room was a figure bathed in hard light and shadows. He was a scrawny old Helion, with loose clothing and a robe tied about his neck. He lacked his left eye, yet appeared inquisitive, even aggressive as they approached.