Star Crusades Nexus: The Third Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

  Captain Cobb now arrived, along with two of his operatives. His confident air had long vanished, but being back in familiar territory had at least improved his demeanor.

  “You’re right. This place is a den of black market dealings, crimes, and blasphemy.”

  Teresa raised her eyebrows and tried to hide a smile. Spartan was much less diplomatic.

  “Maybe we can forget the religious piety for one day and save these people?”

  Khan chuckled loudly at his friend’s intervention, and Teresa had to turn away to avoid being seen.

  “I…uh…you need to know that this place is not as it seems. A store may be a front for a criminal enterprise, that is all,” said Captain Cobb defensively.

  Spartan watched him carefully, his mouth not moving, but his face telling the man everything. Unlike the others in the facility, Spartan had a way of exuding authority, even to those that had never met him. Captain Cobb pointed into the compound and the flickering lights.

  “The bulk of the rooms and facilities at this end of the complex were the sites of a major department store plus luxury apartments.”

  Teresa checked the details coming in from the scouting teams. The marines had moved a good way inside but were under orders to not push too far. As soon as they had taken fire, the teams had reported back and then consolidated the immediate area for signs of the enemy.

  “Yes, the rooms and structure on the lower floor appear to be abandoned. Our marines are already clearing them closer to the lower plaza. The raised walkways and facilities above us are an unknown though. Reports from the advance teams say they took heavy fire trying to move through them.”

  “What’s their plan?” Teresa asked.

  Spartan looked to Olik as well, both expecting a response.

  ”Same as it always is,” said a calm voice.

  Spartan looked back at Captain Rivers and another squad of marines as they moved their way back toward them from inside the facility.

  “Captain,” he said with an outreached hand.

  The man saluted to him instead, much to Spartan’s surprise.

  “Sir, you might be officially retired, but out here that means nothing. Once a marine, always a marine.”

  He then looked to Captain Cobb.

  “We need your skills and local knowledge for this one. It’s pretty messy in there.”

  “Rivers, did you say?” Spartan asked.

  Teresa nodded and leaned in.

  “He’s the General’s boy.”

  The Captain did not seem impressed and chose to point back to the direction he’d arrived from and then continued to speak.

  “The Earthsec operatives say there are four sets of escalators that move between the levels. There are two on each side of the two floors of the plaza. Power has failed on all four, but they take less than ten seconds to move up.”

  “That is correct, Captain,” said Cobb.

  “There are other ways to the next level up. Are you sure that is where the enemy is hidden?”

  “Hidden?” said a gruff metallic voice.

  All of them looked to the shape of Z'Kanthu, the rebel warlord of The Twelve, and the only known Biomech to now be working alongside Alliance warriors.

  “You’ve got something to add?” Spartan asked, as if talking to a child.

  The great machine turned about on its waist to look at him and then to Teresa.

  “Yes. Dersna landed here with her fourteen bandon; her aim to destroy or recover me, and then turn this world into a base of operations to assist in their war effort. With her gone, her remaining warriors will proceed with their last orders or until they are given new ones by a Core. Something I think we might be able to achieve.”

  Khan stepped toward Z'Kanthu and pointed his hand angrily at the machine.

  “Wait. Are you saying we could have just reprogrammed these days ago?”

  Z'Kanthu lifted himself up straight and struck his upper body on the ceiling. Chunks of masonry dropped down, and Spartan had to activate his visor just before a handful of sharp stones hit his helmet.

  “Thanks for that.”

  The machine seemed unimpressed at what he was seeing.

  “No. You misunderstand. Designated leaders, the same as your generals and commanders, command our armies. With this leadership gone, they are forced to rely…”

  “On their last orders. Yes, we get that,” finished Khan impatiently.

  He looked to Spartan and the others.

  “You remember Terra Nova.”

  Spartan didn’t need to answer. For those of them who were there, it had been the bloody last battle to end the Uprising. It was hardly an event he might be able to forget, even if he wanted to.

  “The AI Core sent out an override signal that spread through the entire Biomech force. Can we do that again?”

  He looked to Z'Kanthu who stood motionless like a statue.

  “No, that is not how it works,” he said.

  “The Cores are keys to the minds of the long lost. The oldest and most venerated might contain a mind that is a thousand years old. Some are politicians, other engineers, but most are soldiers. They provide the leadership of the Steersmen. The signal cannot be modified or duplicated without the involvement of the minds.”

  Captain Rivers checked the magazine on his carbine and walked past Z'Kanthu. He looked ahead for signs of trouble and then turned back to face them all.

  “So what exactly are you suggesting, then? If we can’t use the signal, we might as well hunt down and finish off these things, right?”

  Z'Kanthu lowered himself almost a meter.

  “Not quite. There is one thing even I can do.”

  He pointed back inside the large mall shaped facility.

  “I am detecting the evacuation pods of Dersna’s command ship, approximately twelve hundred meters in that direction.”

  Captain Rivers was already cross matching the details with his mapping, but Captain Cobb, with his local knowledge got their first.

  “That’s on the other side of this site, and above the mass transit station. We’d have to work our way up to the next floor, across the entire length, and then cut through the apartment complex near the opposite end.”

  Rivers withdrew a secpad from its clipped mount on his thigh and showed it to Captain Cobb.

  “This location is where the enemy is strongest.”

  “Yes, that is correct,” said Z'Kanthu, “The Core must be intact. With their attack failing, they are regrouping to defend their commander.”

  Cobb started to move, but Spartan grabbed him.

  “Hey, slow down.”

  He then looked to Z'Kanthu.

  “So what? We broke their attack and they have regrouped. That doesn’t mean some Core has magically appeared. What happens next? We already have marines in position to block a withdrawal from this site and further toward City One. We have them trapped.”

  The machine shuddered and said something unintelligible.

  “What?” Khan said impatiently.

  “They will protect the Core and consolidate this area. The Core is more valuable than ten normal Biomechs. It is the equivalent of your…generals.”

  The machine bent down lower to face Spartan.

  “My race can survive in harsher conditions than yours, and my kin will know this. With Dersna destroyed, the only leadership remaining is with this Core. Without it, her bandon will continue to fight until they are victorious, or all your people are dead.”

  Captain Rivers nodded ever so slowly as he started to realize what was happening.

  “I see. The fact they are not just throwing their last warriors at us tells us one thing.”

  Khan agreed. “Yes, they have leadership.”

  A small amount of gunfire clattered far into the distance, followed shortly after by the thump of a single small explosive or grenade being activated. The gunfire ceased, for a few more seconds at least. Z'Kanthu continued.

  “I would offer only two choices if the
Core is intact.”

  Spartan glanced at Teresa and back at the machine as he waited for its revelations.

  “The first is to establish a defensive position by using the civilians as hostages to stop us from attacking. The second is to exterminate every living thing in this facility, but this would leave them with no way to exploit this planet other than to remove it as an asset to your own forces.”

  Spartan indicated for Z'Kanthu to lower himself down to his head. It took an odd series of movements for the machine to come down that low, but Spartan refused to move until he’d completed the maneuver.

  “What can you do if we get to this Core?”

  The machine looked about at the others as though wary of exchanging some great secret. Finally he spoke.

  “I can transfer my mind into the Core temporarily. If successful, I will be able to command the genetically coded bandon of Dersna. I cannot do this on my own though. It will be defended by her most powerful guardians, and they will destroy the Core rather than let it fall into our hands.”

  “And you have a plan, right?” Spartan asked.

  Again the machine made an odd series of sounds.

  “The guardians of Dersna are not sophisticated, and there is one thing their masters want more than any one world of yours. The capture of the remaining rebels of The Twelve is worth the loss of a hundred bandon.”

  “You want to be bait?” Teresa asked him.

  Spartan looked to her and was surprised to see genuine concern on her face for the alien machine.

  “No, I do not, but the survival of The Twelve and our revenge against our betrayers will never happen if your race is defeated. Your Alliance is confused, violent, and weak. But you have still managed to fight and defeat an enemy that even we could not. This planet and its Core can offer us insight into the enemy’s plans. It is a big risk.”

  Khan scratched his head as he listened, but he’d been quiet far too long now. He paced to the side of Spartan and then stopped, resting his arm on his friend’s shoulder.

  “If this works, we could control the bandon of this Biomech…Dersna? That could be hundreds of warriors, some we might even be able to reprogram.”

  Spartan very much doubted the last part, but he couldn’t disappoint Khan, not just yet. Since the freeing of the first generation of his people, Khan, Gun, and the others had made it their mission to seek out the Biomech creatures, no matter where they were or what they did. Thousands had been sent to Hyperion, the new homeworld of the Jötnar, deep inside Alliance territory. Those few synthetics that could be turned would join their ranks; the remainder would be executed or freed on the surface. Spartan had visited Hyperion many times, and the great Jötnar hunts were now infamous for their danger and violence.

  “Right, it’s time to make a decision, then,” said Spartan.

  His voice was cool and calm, and as usual he cut right through the conversation.

  “We have a major hostage situation, plus an enemy that needs crushing. But that’s not all, is it? What’s the status on Helios and the rest?”

  Teresa spoke over her suit’s communications system, and Captain Rivers joined in. It gave Spartan a moment to consider his thoughts. He looked to Khan and Olik, both of whom looked impatient to get on with the fight.

  “So, the plan?” Khan asked.

  “We’re getting to that.”

  Teresa took a step toward Captain Rivers and spoke quietly. They discussed specifics for almost half a minute before she finally she turned to the rest. Captain Rivers moved back to speak with the junior officers of the marines that had now arrived, along with additional platoons of marines. Teresa looked extremely serious, perhaps even a little nervous as she spoke.

  “Our fleet has engaged the Biomechs at Spascia. Major Terson is coordinating our units from inside Tamarisk, and he has been collating the reports coming through the Terra-Nova Rift. It would appear that Comet C34 is less than a day away from reaching a high orbit around Helios Prime, and High Command is expecting a major attack. All military units are active and waiting for their postings, but most are being assembled either at Terra Nova, Prometheus, or T’Karan. It’s all about to hit off.”

  “The goddamn Biomech War is about to start, and we’re out here on the ass end of the Alliance,” grumbled Olik.

  Captain Cobb looked up at the angry looking Jötnar. He opened his mouth, but Khan reached out and placed his hand over the man’s face.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  “How is the fight at Spascia?”

  Both Khan and Teresa detected a minuscule hint of nerves with the question from Spartan.

  “The Biomechs have deployed an Ark to command their attack from. The first assault wave is heading for the surface at this very moment. Our fleet is trying to stop them, but it doesn’t look good.”

  Spartan nodded as she spoke, finding himself not in the slightest surprised at what he was hearing.

  “So the Biomechs are hitting the Helions and hitting them hard. Once they fail, they will move onto the others, probably us. I say we smash these machines right here on Mars, take back the world, and use whatever we can get out of them to help this war effort.”

  Khan seemed to positively glow at this suggestion.

  “You want to rescue the hostages and capture the Core?” Captain Cobb asked quietly.

  The doubt in his voice came across as almost being insolent, and he quickly realized that.

  “That isn’t quite what I meant. This kind of operation will be…well, it will be…”

  “Tough,” finished Spartan.

  He looked to his comrades and rubbed at one of the many scars on his cheek.

  “I say we take this Core, free our people, and get these bandon on our side. They could be a handy weapon, and if this war goes the way I think it will, we will need every asset, including planets, people, and soldiers.”

  He looked back to Teresa.

  “We’re gonna need soldiers for this war, a lot of soldiers.”

  Captain Rivers stepped past them and indicated for two squads to spread out ahead, slightly inside the facility. He looked back to Spartan.

  “We don’t have soldiers here, Spartan, but we do have marines.”

  Spartan laughed at that.

  “I know. It’s time we used them.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The commitment to the defense of the Helios Nexus marked the official recognition of the importance of the Orion Nebula. Some had argued for independence from the alien domains of Orion, but the riches in trade, communication, medicine, and technology were nothing next to simple human curiosity. Once man had stepped onto alien worlds, there was no going back. Who would have even considered establishing a trading post on the Helion homeworld, just six weeks after making first contact, would be possible?

  Musings on the Alliance

  The low grinding vibrations of ammunition crates being moved by the robotic loaders into position could barely be felt inside the ship. What could be were from conveyor belts fitted between the weapon units on both sides. The ammunition itself was kept in armored shelters deep inside the mission modules to avoid them being struck in a firefight. One by one they clunked into position, and the status indicators inside the destroyer flashed from amber to green.

  “Fire all weapons!” said the XO in a calm but firm voice.

  He ran his fingers along the firing sequences that would send the entire stock of loaded ordnance directly into the path of the enemy ships. The response was instantaneous as the guns fed in one round after another. Even the missile tubes launched their ordnance in a blind salvo with there being almost no need to even identify a target. The destroyer shuddered as the weapon systems in the three mission modules unleashed a powerful broadside into the passing Biomanta. The gun turrets raked the Biomechanical ship and tore off small sections of plating and armor, while at point-blank range the missiles looked more like cannon broadsides that exploded entire sections of the ship.

  “She’s b
reaking up, Sir!” said the chief engineer.

  Unlike the rest of the Liberty class ships, ANS New Carlos had been fitted out with two air-defense modules and a single guided missile module. Each of these was actually pairs like panniers that were slung under the spine of the ship and provided the bulk of its center mass. All Liberty ships were equipped with a pair of quad 20mm coilgun turrets, one fore and one aft, plus a pair of hull-mounted torpedo tubes fitted just below the chin of the nose of the vessel. The mission modules provided two additional quad-gun mounts plus stowage space, ammunition, and armor or a motorized missile unit with twenty spare anti-ship missiles and launch tubes. This arsenal provided a total of six quad-gun turrets and four missile tubes, the perfect compromise for the new flagship of the Spascia Fleet.

  “Good work, Lieutenant. One down and a few more to go,” said Commodore Hampel.

  He groaned and twisted as the medic applied the warm feeling glue to his forehead. It immediately stung, and he winced involuntarily. The XO continued issuing orders directly to the crews managing the weapon systems. Even from their position inside the ship, it was possible to feel the almost continuous vibrations as the 20mm coilgun turrets firing without pause. The massive ammunition hoppers allowed the weapons almost limitless firing, and the gunners were taking full advantage of that.

  “You really should get a full scan in the medical bay,” said Dr. Jones.

  His tone was concerned but also more than a little frustrated. Commodore Hampel lifted himself to his feet just at the moment another series of impacts thudded along the starboard flank of the destroyer. He shook his head angrily and walked back to his seat.

  “Thank you, Doctor. If we survive this, you can be sure I will get myself checked in.”

  Commodore Hampel watched the scores of tracer trails on the holographic display. The moving shapes were almost mesmerizing, and he had to admit the firepower being put out by just six quad-gun turrets was impressive.

  “Very well, Sir. I will return to my duties.”