It’s all in the hands of our marines now. God help them.
* * *
Sergeant Ashley Payne looked back to his platoon and checked they were ready for the hundredth time. He wore a black beard across his chin, and a thick scar ran down his cheek to his neck. He was a veteran of the insurgency on Carthago and showed little patience for tardiness of slackness.
“All right, marines, we land in thirty seconds. Remember, this is a zero-g assault. We go in fast and we go in hard. This is a Biomech Ark, so the rules of engagement are simple.”
He smiled, a short, cruel look that inspired nothing less than fear in the entire unit.
“You will shoot anything you find. I want a body count that the General can only dream of.”
The Mauler shuddered as it altered course just a fraction. All external video feeds had been deactivated so the marines could only see exactly what their officers had presented them. More light gunfire hit the frontal armor, but the Mauler was tough. Unlike the fighters used by the Navy, this vessel could take heavy punishment and still keep going. There was a reason they were technically classified as ships, even if they were not much larger than the much older models of landing craft.
“Ten seconds!”
The Mauler seemed to go motionless and then struck something with force. The craft shook violently, and then everything returned to calm as before. The side hatches opened up, and every marine inside made for the exits. Sergeant Payne was first out, using the grab rails to pull himself out and then using the thrusters on his suit to move though the massive landing area. A thin layer of dust from their arrival, mixed with dust and dirt from hundreds, perhaps thousands of years obscured his vision. He looked back and concentrated on his unit.
“Marines, fan out and put them down!”
More marines surged out of the craft and spread out to his flanks. Half a dozen moved up to the ceiling and a single SAAR robot drifted out before clamping itself firmly to the ground. Guns flashed, but there was neither sound, nor useable gravity. Sergeant Payne concentrated on the dispersal, noting with confidence that in less than forty seconds, the craft was empty and his entire platoon had deployed. Further to the right another two Maulers had landed and done exactly the same.
That’s a company of marines on the ground. Now we’ll do some damage!
He looked back at the target, the vast interior hangar. The dust was already beginning to move, and in its place were a dozen Biomechs. Each stood upright, a vast machine covered in thickly layered armor. Around them moved scores of the eight-legged Decurion war machines. Unlike the marines, they were easily able to move throughout the hangar, but they didn’t attack. Instead, the Biomechs masters lifted their arms and opened fire. The first pulse of energy vaporized five marines and left nothing but charred armor and pieces of melted flesh. More shots slammed into the three platoons as they scattered in panic.
“Stand your ground, and put these things down for good!” he shouted.
While the marines scattered, the battle-hardened marine lifted his carbine and took aim. He even managed to loose off a short burst before a pulse of energy struck the ground in front of him, sending his shattered body backwards and against the Mauler in a spray of broken bones and organs.
“Fall back!” screamed a corporal.
Through the intercom system his voice was as loud as any of the others. Some retreated while others did their best to find cover in the vast open space. Any useful cover was held by the machines, though; and unlike their usual practice, they stood their ground and continued to fire on the outnumbered and outgunned marines. By the time the first wave of Thegns emerged from their hiding places and swarmed over the hangar, there were less than twenty marines left alive.
A young female private with two holes in her left arm, managed to reach the Mauler. Hands pulled her inside just as a massed volley of gunfire cut apart the last survivors trying to join her. The door clunked shut, and an officer grabbed her and activated the clamps. Even as he did so, the Mauler pulled away. They sustained multiple impacts, but incredibly managed to get away from the bloodbath.
“How many did we lose?” she asked with a cough.
“Too many. The fleet’s been given the withdrawal order. The Biomechs control Helion space now. We’re joining Admiral Lewis at the secondary assembly point.”
They sat in silence as the Mauler joined the tiny number of surviving craft back to the capital ships. Even as they moved through space, the volleys of gunfire from both sides left ruined ships and bodies in all directions. The battle of C34 was over, and the Alliance had little to show for it other than a shattered fleet, broken morale, and a planet now suffering the throes of a devastating bombardment from space. The marine opened her visor and wiped her brow.
“I thought we would have won this fight. Helios Prime will fall, and we’ll be next.”
The Lieutenant shook his head.
“No chance, Private. We’ll do what we always do. We’ll regroup, and we’ll come back and hit them twice as hard.”
“And what about Helios Prime?”
They both watched the screen on the front wall that showed the hundreds of meteors streaming down to the planet below. Some were small chunks, but others were big enough to destroy large swathes of the city. The sky showed up red, and black smoke rose from a thousand fires burning away.
“They will suffer. Be under no illusions though, we will return.”
The mixture of Alliance and alien vessels moved out of orbit and accelerated away from the planet and toward their rendezvous with the remnants of Admiral Lewis’ fleet. Fighters from both sides continued to battle, and the planetary defense platforms took severe punishment from the hundreds of Biomech warships now in orbit over Helios Prime. Like Spascia before it, the world of Helios Prime was now under the Biomech blockade.
* * *
Spartan had led three assaults on the Biomech defenses, and still they’d been unable to break through. Each time the marines had reached the sets of barricades, the defenders had triggered a series of charges that had left more than a dozen marines wounded. He moved back and knelt down alongside Teresa and Captain Rivers.
“They are entrenched back there. We will not get inside.”
The young Captain looked confused.
“I don’t understand. This is just a diversion.”
Spartan leaned around the pillar and took aim at the distant doorway and sprayed it will coil rounds.
“You can’t hit them like that,” the Captain sighed.
Teresa struck him on the head.
“You’ve fought them before, and you know how they work. If they believe this is a feint, then they will redeploy, and the others will suffer badly. We need to drawn in everything they have and now.”
Spartan looked back and grinned at his wife.
“You should listen to her. Teresa knows what she’s talking about.”
Another of the Decurion machines pushed out a prisoner, this time a man in his thirties. It lifted the barely moving man into plain sight and moved its pincers around the man’s throat. The gunfire stopped as though a switch had been flicked.
“Animals,” hissed Spartan.
He moved out into the open and lifted his carbine in a single fluid motion. There was no hesitation or mercy. The muzzles flashed, and a hole appeared in the man’s arm. The machine dropped the wounded man as the pincer arm was ripped from its joint.
“Marines, forward!”
Spartan and Teresa were on their feet first and rushed toward the flailing machine. More marines moved from their hiding places and charged the numerous barricades held by the machines. Three were knocked down, and then they were over the rubble and vanished into the darkness. Captain Rivers watched them go and shook his head. He’d never seen Spartan in action, and his nerve and willingness to sacrifice others so quickly was not what he’d expected. Even more surprising was the Colonel. Since he’d arrived, Colonel Morato had transformed from the cool, calm commander to a v
iolent officer, one that seemed to exude an aggressive attitude he was just not used to.
Spartan landed on the other side of the barricades and found three Thegns waiting with their firearms pointing right at him. The first fired and penetrated his thigh armor. He stumbled and then put a triple blast into the next warrior’s chest. Teresa landed alongside him and held down her trigger. The long burst cut into all three. More marines fanned out around them, firing at any sign of the enemy. That was when they came across the first of the prisoners. Spartan groaned and looked down to check if he was bleeding. There was definitely a hole. He could only assume the projectile had either passed and missed his limb, or more likely, it had embedded itself in the PDS Alpha armor.
“A young lieutenant stopped by the two of them, looked to Spartan, and then to Teresa.
“Colonel, the machines are falling back to the base of a secondary shaft. Large numbers of their Decurion machines control the two floors above this level.”
Spartan smiled, but it was a bittersweet look. He pointed off into the distance.
“They’re establishing a kill-zone. The Core will be right behind them.”
Teresa was already speaking with Khan via the digital communications network. It took only a few seconds before she was done. She looked back to Spartan.
“They agree. The machines are falling back to contain us. They have a clear run to the crash site identified by Z’Kanthu.”
Teresa reached out and grabbed Spartan’s shoulder.
“Are you sure we can trust it…him?”
Spartan looked back at her and shrugged.
“We’ll find out soon enough. It’s time to let them think they’ve pushed us back. We’ll have to make it look good. This is now the diversion.”
Even Teresa looked confused at this part.
“I…uh, I thought this…”
Spartan placed his hand on her shoulder.
“They can hear us,” was all he said.
* * *
Z’Kanthu pushed ahead like a metal god, his large size and powerful limbs making him all but impervious to melee attacks from the machines. A long distance behind him waited the bloodied figures of Khan, Tajt, Olik, and Knaprig. They had made use of the wrecked equipment and storage units to find as much useful cover as they could. Around them moved dozens of marines moving into the darkness offered by the low lighting. There was no real need for the Jötnar to participate in this part of the fight, but even after Olik’s bloody wound, and Knaprig’s severed arm, they refused to give up. The Alliance forces had moved up to the first of the many bodies and dug in throughout the mall inspired structure. The ceiling had partially collapsed, and a thin layer of dust along the ground seemed to drift up around their feet. Z’Kanthu stopped and looked back at the four wounded Jötnar off into the distance.
“They are ahead, are you ready?”
Khan signaled with his right arm. Z’Kanthu lifted his arms and roared in a high-pitched mechanical scream. He then hunkered down on his haunches and took aim with his weapons. Ahead of him, just where they suspected lay the immobile Core, came the flicker of light. It started as a dull orange that quickly became yellow. Hard, black shadows cast on the ground and then they came. Decurions poured forth from the darkness and directly at the Biomech warlord. He opened fire, but the machines came on thick and fast.
“Fall back!” Khan shouted.
From his position much further back, he could see the machines were swarming out like bugs. If he weren’t quick, he would be completely overrun. Z’Kanthu fired a final volley and then turned and ran as fast as he could. His great size meant he crashed through barriers, display stands, and parts of staircases as he moved. Two Decurions managed to leap onto his body, and he was forced to crash into the nearby wall to force them off. More came closer still before the gunfire from the four Jötnar picked off the nearest. Still he ran, finally stopping just a few meters from his new friends.
“The machines, they are here,” he said without a hint of emotion.
As the hidden marines lay in wait, the four Jötnar and Z’Kanthu opened fire. The sheer weight of numbers was substantial, as machines and Thegns surrounded them on three sides. Only with their backs to the wall stopped them from reaching them on all four sides. Khan looked quickly to his comrades and then to the machine they had only so recently befriended.
“Well, you said they would want you. Now Spartan can secure the Core.”
The marines opened fire from dozens of hidden positions. A mixture of coilguns and L48 rifles tore holes in the Biomech horde, but only a few could return fire. Instead of shooting at Z’Kanthu, they hurled themselves at him, desperate to disable rather than kill him. Three Thegns and a Decurion knocked Khan to the ground, and he roared with laughter, smashing his fist through one of their backs as he lay there.
“Spartan, take the Core!” he shouted over his open channel.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Empires of Ancient Earth included some that lasted for hundreds or even thousands of years. It was those that could survive in the face of new and powerful threats that could truly be considered great. The Samurai of Japan suffered at the hands of the more tactically aware Mongols, and the Celts of Europe were ultimately crushed by the mechanical efficiency of the Romans. Technology wasn’t the only requirement for victory, however. In the twentieth century, the dogged resistance and industry of its enemies defeated the advanced armies of Nazi Germany, just as much as its own leadership destroyed it from within. The Alliance was something new, yet its foundations were the Confederacy and the early pioneers that had set out from Earth so many centuries before. The citizens of the Alliance were bitter, mistrustful, and dangerous, but when they worked for a common goal, they were proven the equal to any task. The Great Biomech War would be the ultimate challenge, one where alien and mankind would be forced to ally in a genocidal battle with the Biomechanical Machines and their legions of monstrous warriors.
A Brief History of the Alliance
Jack’s hands were shaking as he tried to drink from the warm flask. The marines had now held the trench works around Gun’s command post against three determined assaults. The outer regions of the old city were well and truly lost, but no matter how many warriors they threw at them, they seemed unable to break the last few strongpoints this side of the chasm.
“Son, I need you on the line.”
He looked up and saw the hard lines running along Sergeant Stone’s face. The man was tough, one of the toughest he’d met. Yet even now he was sure the man had some sympathy, or perhaps concern for his marines. He reached out and helped Jack to his feet. Lieutenant Elvidge was next to him and a single fireteam of battered looking marines. The fighting had been so confused that Jack realized he had no idea where he actually was. Trenches ran in all directions, and most of the buildings were nothing but rubble.
“Son, it’s time,” said the Sergeant.
The man turned and spoke to Lieutenant Elvidge, leaving Jack stunned. Private Jenkell grabbed him, pulling him down a mound and to the right where another group of marines were dragging a machine gun into position. Behind them came the booming sound of Helion artillery. They were close, and the gray and black streaks from their missiles and rockets arced overhead to drop down into the enemy controlled parts of the city.
Jack slid down into the nearest breastwork and went immediately to his carbine. His mind felt completely shattered at this point, so rather than think, he forced himself into routine. He checked the mechanism, ammunition feed, and power pack. All the while Jenkell watched him work. She was clearly worried, but he noticed nothing outside of the work he was already doing. He slowly looked up and saw her watching him.
“Jack, I know what…”
“Marines!” roared a familiar voice.
Both of them twisted about and looked up at the armored form of Gun. Two black armored guards flanked him, all bearing the symbol of Hyperion proudly on their chests. A squad of Khreenk fighters ran past them and m
oved into a forward trench. An odd four-legged machine, like a small version of a Biomech Decurion followed them and disappeared behind a wall.
“The Biomechs have pushed everything they have within six blocks of our lines. We are all that stands between them and the chasm.”
He pointed at the dark mountain that ran up from the city.
“If they make it past us, they will be inside the mountain in less than three hours. We will stop them cold.”
More rockets rushed overhead like a violent salute to their synthetic leader. The low rumble in the distance marked out the initial impacts of the ordnance amongst the enemy’s positions.
“Our aircraft are hitting their landing zones hard. We will break them on our armor.”
Some of the marines shouted, but most stayed quiet. The time for triumphalism was long past; now it was simply butchering work. The Khreenk worked methodically on their equipment, and the marines dragged whatever heavy weapons remained to the frontline. Gun and his party moved from the high ground and toward one of the many shattered buildings. They were more shells than buildings anymore, and the irregular shapes proved more than useful for the larger size of the Jötnar. Jack watched as his old friend moved to his new position and then, just as before, he felt the coldness and the nerves return.
“Targets, two hundred meters and closing!” said one of the sharpshooters waiting in a raised position on one of the remaining third floors.
The final assault on Spascia City began not with gunfire, or even a bombardment. It began with something even Gun hadn’t anticipated. Even though the underground tunnels had been filled, there were still two shafts accessible to the enemy, and one ran directly beneath Gun’s command post. The opening attack began with a massive blast that tore a hole fifty meters wide in the middle of their defenses. Any man or woman within the blast radius was killed immediately. Less than thirty seconds after the blast came the gunfire, and then the Thegns came at the defenders in waves. Most hit from the surface, but a large number also emerged from the pit in the center of the defenses to strike into the heart of the Alliance position.
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