Ghost Soldiers

by Michael G. Thomas

  We're running out of time.

  Spartan looked back at his unit and signalled for them to deploy. They moved out into the open compartment that ran out onto a massive open structure. As they moved in, Spartan could see the massive windows that were blocked up with dirt and debris. It was much like the landing deck they'd arrived on, yet this one had ten large blast doors running down one side.

  "It's definitely a docking level," said one of the marines.

  "You are correct. This is where the ship is connected," replied Five-Seven.

  He pointed off to the doors in the distance.

  "Those are the airlock seals connecting this part of the derelict to the transport. Once they remove the last three, and decouple the umbilical, the transport will be free of the derelict and able to leave."

  Spartan had made up his mind now and indicated for the officers to come closer.

  "Wait at the umbilical. When you are in position, Khan and I will attack them, along with a single fireteam, all volunteers. When they are fully engaged, you will get inside."

  "And then?" Captain Delatorre asked. He had been silent so far.

  "We will destroy it. If we fail, we will delay him long enough for you all to blow the airlocks and jettison the transport away from the derelict."

  Spartan seemed to relax as the plan coalesced in his mind.

  "Captain Delatorre, you will lead the rest to the next floor and reach the umbilical. Use your officers and NCOs; they share a wealth of knowledge. Contact me when you're ready to go in. Understood?"

  A few considered arguing, but every single one of them there understood the implications of outstaying their welcome on the derelict.

  * * *

  Kanjana leaned over the edge of the gantry and around the final bend. She could see one half of the machine and its constantly moving gun mount. It was a horrible grinding sound, and it was obvious to her that the motors and gears were clogged up with dirt or rust. Even so, the weapons fitted to it looked substantial, and she had little doubt it would blast them apart if given the opportunity. It was heavily reinforced with sections of plating, much like the carapace of a beetle.

  This one is not going to be easy.

  She glanced back and indicated for Richards to approach, and he moved cautiously, doing his best to avoid making too much noise. The ramp up the gantry was damaged in multiple places, and with its railing gone, the drop was nearly ten metres onto cabling and broken storage bins. He took another step and a metal grating gave way. Part of the unit split, and his armoured foot went through up to his knee.

  "Damn it!" he yelled.

  Kanjana instinctively pulled herself back into the shadows, waiting for the obvious reprisal. The machine guarding the power units to the derelict was out of direct line of sight, but it was only around the corner, and would surely hear what was happening. Richards pulled his leg up, accompanied by the painful screams of metal on metal.

  It didn't come for us, why?

  Kanjana and Richards waited, each not daring to move a muscle. They were on a gantry, perhaps twenty metres away from the machine. Both expected it to attack; yet nothing happened. Kanjana gave it another ten seconds and then indicated for him to continue towards her position. It took another full minute, but after a tense moment, he reached her, relaxing for just a moment. Kanjana then glanced around the corner so that she could just make out the side of the machine.

  Strange.

  This one was completely different in shape to the last one and seemed much less mobile. Instead of legs it was a weapon platform, mounted on long rusted away wheels that still managed to provide it with a degree of movement.

  "Will it work?" Richards asked.

  At the same time he fiddled nervously with the settings on the XC1 carbine. Unlike most weapons used in the other military arms, this one was a first generation model, with a number of major differences. Its power and cooling system made it substantially more complex, and it was a hard system to maintain in the field. He checked the coolant levels for third time and then lowered it to his right.

  "It will work, if we stick to the plan," said Kanjana.

  Her voice was a subtle whisper.

  "It didn't hear you, so either it has poor hearing, or more likely it has different sensors. Perhaps heat sensing or radar, or if advanced enough, it could carry optical scanners and an analysis and identification engine."

  Richards shook his head, already confused at what she was saying.

  "So if we stay out of its line of sight, we should be safe, right?"

  Kanjana shrugged, mimicking the gesture she'd learnt while living in self-imposed exile at Taxxu.

  "You will stay here until I send the signal. Then you keep it busy."

  She reached forward and took the thermite grenades from his pouches fitted into the flanks of his armour.

  "I will destroy the machine, and then we'll get inside. Understood?"

  The man swallowed uncomfortably, as though something thick and awkward had stuck in his throat.

  "Yeah, I get it."

  A gentle beep inside Kanjana's helmet grabbed her attention.

  "Kanjana, do you read?"

  Spartan.

  "Yes, Major, I read you. We're in position and waiting for your command."

  "Good. Do it now. We're going in."

  "Understood."

  * * *

  Spartan waited patiently until finally the signal came in to confirm that Captain Delatorre was in position. He'd have expected them to run into trouble, but with time of the essence, the Guardian machine had pulled back all of its assets to defend itself, and to extricate the transport from the rest of the derelict. Four large objects were positioned alongside the airlocks, exactly where they would need to be to push the transport away from the derelict.

  Explosive devices to separate us. Nice.

  Spartan gave a hand signal, and six of the marines fanned out in front of the heavies. He felt a knot in his chest as the wounded marines moved alongside their comrades, some helping them into position. They were careful, and in thirty seconds they were all on the deck, their weapons ready to go. One began moving, but Spartan gave the signal to halt and wait, and all of them did as ordered. He wanted the maximum effect when the battle began.

  "Now!"

  Spartan, Khan, Lieutenant Kipling, and Lieutenant Lee all moved out to the front, their massive armoured forms taking up much of the space. The six marines held back and lifted their carbines to wait for targets of opportunity.

  "Fire!"

  Spartan skidded to a halt and took aim, while the others did the same. They were spaced apart by at least five metres, yet the four of them looked like a group of fighters in some ancient Western. Dust circled about them as they blasted away with all of their weaponry. There were no friendlies in the area, so rules of engagement were ignored. Each blazed away, with little concern what their rounds hit. Gatling gun fire mixed with magnetically cased plasma struck the machines.

  "Keep it up," said Spartan

  He then indicated with his left arm for the six marines to move.

  "Push on the flanks. If it moves, shoot it."

  Two of the machines were blasted apart before they even knew the attack had started. Then came the shrill scream, that terrible noise that emitted deep down from inside the Guardian. Spartan felt the sound through the armour, and it made his spine tingle.

  That's it. We're coming for you!

  Four of the machines stayed back to continue their work on the airlocks, while the rest moved out into a loose line to protect the others. Their own guns opened up, most unleashing harpoons, lances, and hardened slugs. Lieutenant Anne Lee was the first to be hit, taking four lances to the torso. One must have penetrated a weak point because she stumbled over and landed face down in the dust.

  "Advance!" Khan ordered.

  The three of them moved ahead, one step at a time while firing their weapons. The machine's defensive fire continued to strike them, yet still Spartan refused
to let them break ranks, or to take cover.

  Just a little further.

  Then Khan spotted the pulsing white and blue light around the creature. A machine fell down, and immediately began shaking as blue and while energy licked about it. Patterns along the floor and walls moved around it, and Khan began to growl.

  "I am getting bored with this thing!"

  Then he spotted the shape, and his tone changed immediately.

  "I have eyes on the Guardian."

  "Do not fire at it," said Spartan, "Keep hitting the others. Give it time. We need to disable its ability to repair itself."

  A lance pierced his leg armour and jammed against the side of his left calf. Then another struck his shoulder and glanced off, only to strike Khan in the flank. He groaned and yanked out the metal spike before blasting the aggressor with his shoulder-mounted weapon.

  "Systems failing, weapons out," said Lieutenant Kipling.

  His suit staggered, and then he dropped to one knee. Spartan stepped past it and absorbed most of the incoming fire. Khan moved to the other side to do the same. Spartan pointed at the shattered limb of a machine on the ground.

  "Take it and follow us."

  Lieutenant Kipling grabbed the piece, forced himself to his feet, and ignored all the alarms in his suit. He shook his head in astonishment as he watched the other two marching ahead into the array of gunfire.

  Madness!

  He took three steps forward and then spotted the marines on the flanks. All of them were firing their carbines from the shoulder. The return fire sent projectiles all around them. Lieutenant Kipling slowed, finding the strength of body and mind to keep moving ahead almost impossible.

  * * *

  Kanjana swung down from the gantry and landed gently on the platform below, and behind two large air circulation units. Both were massive and covered in a layer of filth from centuries of shifting air around the derelict. Something moved below her, and she immediately froze. The sound stopped, and as she started to move her legs, the squeaking sound of wheel announced the movement of the fighting machine. One wheel appeared, and her body tensed. She activated her communications unit and whispered as quietly as possible,

  "Richards, now!"

  The machine came closer, and then the gunfire began. For the briefest moment she suspected the machine had found her, but then rounds from the XC1 carbine struck it. It twisted about with surprising speed, opening fire with the arsenal of weapons mounted on its structure. Energy and solid slugs whooshed away and disintegrated the gantry with ease.

  Now.

  She dropped down behind the machine, only to land a metre from its body. At this distance she could see how it had been fused together from the carcasses of a dozen different sources. Kanjana saw no cables or obvious weak points, and the gunfire from Richards only seemed to be blasting of parts of its outer armour.

  Do it quickly.

  The thermite charges were an old weapon system, something commonly used by the Marine Corps for demolition work due to its ability to burn through even the toughest of materials. She dropped down low and then pushed ahead, jamming both grenades into the first overlapping plate on the machine. It sensed danger immediately and spun about, striking her with something heavy. Kanjana flew through the air and crashed into the wall with such force her vision blotted out for several seconds.

  Run, run you fool.

  Her mind told her to move, but her body refused to obey. Slowly her limbs regained control, and her eyesight returned to bring the horror of the machine, just two metres away, and with its weapons pointing directly at her. Its form was dark, covered in dust, and reminded her of the imagery shown to her of the dreaded Biomechs. She carried nothing but her sidearm, and as she reached for the weapon, the thermite charges erupted. There wasn't a huge explosion, just a focussed blast of heat that vaporised the innards of the machine. Fragments of burning war machine flew off in all directions, with a spray hitting her armour.

  Kanjana screamed as she lifted herself up, climbed past the ruins of the machine, and through the battered entrance to the power units for the derelict. She looked back for signs of Richards and spotted him struggling among the wreckage of the gantry.

  Keep moving. The mission.

  She shook his head and moved inside to where the flashing blue energy of some form of massive reactor gurgled away.

  "Well, this is the place."

  Directly ahead lay something akin to a fountain, a great structure with energy flashing up and down in a continuous pattern. Pipes ran from both sides, and large coolant tanks took up most of the space on the sides of the gigantic compartment. She moved as close as was possible to the reactor unit and placed her carbine against it. Kanjana had already modified the control unit so that it was no longer operative, and then activated the overload.

  Now run!

  She was out of the compartment and over two hundred metres away when the carbine finally reached critical and exploded with the energy of ten thermite weapons.

  * * *

  Spartan and Khan blocked the path of a trio of machines, each of them wading in like a pair of iron clad gods. They kicked, punched, and stabbed with neither tiring for a second. Lieutenant Kipling shook his head and tried to regain his composure. The fighting inside the derelict had been hectic before, but this had now turned into a savage melee, one he knew they had no chance of winning. Two marines were cut clean in half by a huge metal scythe, and then the attacker disappeared, only to appear again behind him and strike Khan. He then twisted about and grabbed the thing with both arms.

  Get back in the fight.

  Lieutenant Kipling hit the backup power unit and sent the small percentage of remaining energy into his systems. He spotted movement and took aim with the coilguns on his right arm.

  "Sir, are you okay?"

  He looked down and found a single injured marine in front of him. A lance crashed to the ground just a metre away and embedded deeply into the metal floor. Another narrowly missed his head, only to be followed by a pair of six-legged machines. One struck for the marine, but he sidestepped and put three rounds into its torso. The shots were beautifully aimed, and burnt through its core, sending the ruined remains to the ground.

  "The Captain has breached the transport. It's working. They are inside and barricading it from there."

  The Corporal then turned around and continued to fire, moving from target to target as both sides mixed together into a swirling melee of machines, blades, and guns. Lieutenant Kipling felt a moment of guilt that he inside this titan of a war machine would hesitate, when the wounded Corporal Evans would fight on inside his lightly armoured M-3B suit.

  "I'm with you!"

  He bent down, grabbed the junk of metal he'd dropped, and lifted it up high above his head. Ahead of him was a single machine, bipedal and roughly the same height as him. It pointed its arms and released something that trailed a streak of grey smoke.

  "Incoming!" Corporal Evans yelled.

  The unguided rocket rushed past, missed them, and crashed into the nearest bulkhead. Then came a bright blue flash, and the so-called Guardian crashed down in front of him. He didn't hesitate this time and swung the chunk of metal hard at the thing. It struck plating and broke off a section the size of his head. Then the machine spun about and knocked him backwards. He staggered and began to stumble before finally righting himself. At the same time, the Guardian drove forward with one of its hardened spikes heading for his chest.

  "Lieutenant, get back!"

  Corporal John Evans ran in from the right, firing his XC1 carbine until the power core ran dry. Every round of magnetically cased plasma ripped chunks of armour from the machine, but that wasn't enough. It hissed with something that sounded close to rage and then drove its arm forward, impaling the marine on the savage looking lance.

  "No!"

  Lieutenant Kipling ran at the Guardian and threw the entire weight of the Maverick armour at it. Each impact sent pulses of blue energy around its bod
y.

  "Drive it back!" said a familiar voice.

  Lieutenant Kipling struck the machine again and again, managing to rip a piece away to reveal a golden colour underneath. The thing screeched, and one of the damaged war machines stamped past him and crashed into the Guardian. As it hit the side, the blue energy crackled around both as it fused to the outer armour.

  "What?"

  Then came a massive pulse of energy and every light went out. The Guardian turned a full ninety degrees as though it had sensed some terrible danger.

  "This is it," said Spartan, "Kanjana did it. The beast is vulnerable. Now end this!"

  He then connected to Kanjana's encrypted channel.

  "Kanjana. I don't know here you are, but get to an airlock, fast! Delatorre has your transponder. If he makes it, he'll find you. Good luck..."

  An arm appeared from nowhere and caught him completely by surprise. It struck him in the chest with a resounding smash. Lieutenant Kipling tried to maintain his balance just as Spartan appeared at his side, slamming the hammer like fists of the armour into the Guardian. The Major attacked the Guardian with such fervour that it stunned Lieutenant Kipling. Even so, he returned to the fight as even more of the machines rallied around the Guardian.

  "Duck!" said Spartan.

  The officer did as he was told as a blade circled over his head. Spartan moved past it and grabbed one of the Guardian's arms. Khan was not far away and charged down two bipedal machines, smashing them apart like a charging rhino. All around him were the bodies of the six marines that had bravely marched into battle, each knowing full well they were outmatched in almost every way.

  The Guardian took a large step away from the fight, but Spartan held onto one of its arms and held it back. Khan crashed into it, and both did their best to slow it down. A voice called out over the command network, but this time it was open to them all. With so few officers, it was probably just as well.

  "Captain Delatorre here. We've secured the transport. The last airlock has been cleared, and the umbilical detached. We're ready to leave. Five-Seven has managed to gain control of the manoeuvring thrusters...we can get clear of the derelict.""