The General smiled that dark, grim smile Spartan had seen before.
“Tell me.”
“It wanted to know where the masters were.”
The General raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Why?”
Spartan looked at the Thegn.
“Forty-Seven. Orders?”
The warrior spoke in its own tongue, and Z’Kanthu was forced to translate.
“Its orders are simple. It will observe the chain of command as I have explained. Our Thegns and war machines have each vowed to observe the laws and commands based upon your chain of command in the coming fight. Not one of them has shown any interest in causing trouble. They will have their freedom.”
“Yes, but what does it want? Can it even understand freedom?”
“Z’Kanthu spoke again, and the Thegn stepped away from the officers and approached him. He even seemed to recoil just a little as it spoke. Finally, the sounds finished and he looked to General Rivers.
“Forty-Seven wants to find the slave masters that forced him and his kin to fight and die. He has seen seventy-three of his comrades die in battle on both sides of our wars. He will not fight for any Biomech again.”
“Uh, isn’t that a problem?”
Spartan cleared his throat.
“Got something to say, Spartan?”
“Well, General, this Thegn and every one we have freed so far, wants just one thing; their freedom, but not our kind of freedom. They don’t want or expect a normal life. They want the freedom to find, fight, and destroy the Biomechs once and for all.”
“I don’t understand, why? Are you telling me they have memories and feelings? Surely you do not believe they have a system of morality?”
Spartan didn’t seem impressed.
“General, they are intelligent creatures that were built as expendable slaves. They had no free will but could see, feel, and understand what was happening around them. When freed of the Core, they operate under the basic laws of free will. But deep down there is something that has been simmering for centuries, just the same as with Gun and Khan. All they want is the chance for vengeance. Was Gun much different when we found him?”
“And who is supposed to lead them if they hold all Biomechs in such contempt. Will they fight under the command of our own officers?”
He looked up to Z’Kanthu as he spoke. The machine looked at him, his eyes flickering and then becoming brighter.
“They will fight for somebody our rebels can trust, one with a history and reputation as a hunter and killer of Biomechs. The Thegns are suspicious of your Alliance, and their knowledge of the Helions is limited. There is one they will follow though, the first of your people they ever met.”
He then pointed at Spartan.
“He has been chosen as our war leader by the Thegns. Where Spartan goes, our bandon will follow. We are not interested in empire building or conquest. The last of The Twelve and all of our warriors pledge their lives to Spartan and to the end of all Biomechs.”
General Rivers was stunned. He’d arrived with the intention of uncovering quite what was going and had instead been handed a fait accompli. He looked about the vast hall, at the marines, machines, and warriors waiting there for their chance for battle. Everything he had seen made him uncomfortable, and it was only the involvement of Spartan and Teresa that stopped him from shutting down the entire operation.
“So, you’ve created your own little army out here, then. What am I to do with you?”
Spartan stepped closer and pointed to the Thegns.
“We have seven Biomech warriors and three bandon of warriors. Let’s use them as a spear point against the heart of the enemy. Just choose a target and see what happens. You won’t be disappointed.”
General Rivers heard the words, but all he could think of was that right now he had a big problem. There was a fleet of ships and an alien army right behind his own lines, and they recognized a civilian as their leader rather than his own generals.
“You will bring them to the rendezvous at the Admiral Jarvis Naval Station. Operation Citadel is almost ready, and there’s no place safer than to have you alongside the rest of our forces.”
To anybody else this might have sounded as a reaffirmation of his trust in Spartan, but he knew otherwise. The rebel forces might be powerful, but the assembled forces of the Alliance could easily destroy them.
“Very well, we will make preparations to link with the fleet.”
“Yes, you will. In the meantime, you will return to my ship. We have other matters to discuss.”
CHAPTER THREE
ANS Endurance was never supposed to enter an active combat zone. Only the critical situation, brought about by the change of course by Comet C34, moved her from a series of long-term projects and into the frontline. Helios would undoubtedly have fallen if the remnants of the comet fragment codenamed Thunar had reached the homeworld. Little is known about the fateful day when the combined forces of the Alliance, T’Kari, Helions, and Khreenk engaged Thunar and its fleet of ships. All that is known was that by the end of the fight, the enemy forces had been scattered and most of the Allies remained intact. Of ANS Endurance, nothing remained.
Ships of the Interstellar Navy
Orbital Platform Knossos, 70,000km above Helios Prime
Three Crusader warships and a pair of Liberty class destroyers activated their main engines and accelerated away from the destroyed defense platform. Dozens of Biomech ships pounded what little remained of the base while smaller craft hunted down lifeboats and escape pods to kill or capture those trying to escape. The rescue effort had been successful, and the five ships had achieved their objective of evacuating the station. Deep inside their armored hulls was the treasured cargo of escaped Helion soldiers and crew. The fight had been violent, but their escape was too slow.
Even as they moved away from the station, a Cephalon command ship spotted them. It was so close it easily disabled one before it could get away. As the engines built up to full power, a dozen lancing shots tore the engines from their mounts, leaving ANS Titania dead in space. The ship was an old warhorse, one of the first generation of Crusader class of ships and a veteran of the seven separate engagements. This rescue mission would be her last. The other four ships put as much firepower onto the Biomech ship as they could, but in less than a minute they were long gone, and their sister ship was stuck in high orbit over the besieged world of Helios Prime.
With ANS Titania unable to move, the enemy warships took their time moving into safe firing positions. One by one, they began a systematic bombardment of her flanks. Shot after shot tore through her armor and rent open her bulkheads into space. Although unable to escape, she continued to fight with every weapon system at her disposal. Even her remaining fighter rammed the nearest Biomanta and set off a series of internal explosions that sent the vessel lifelessly into space.
In another fifteen minutes the ship was a wreck, a lifeless corpse, and to all intents and purposes dead in space and unable to fight back. Fires burned in a hundred places, yet there were many survivors aboard, and some took their chances with the lifeboats. That was when the boarding shuttles launched from the Cephalon. One by one, they streaked across space and smashed into the ruins of the ship while fighters destroyed or towed the lifeboats back to their own ships. The boarding craft slid inside the wreckage like needles pushed into rotting fruit. Once stationary, entire squads of Decurion war machines clambered out and moved into the ship. Final volleys of gunfire from the four retreating Alliance ships caused minor damage to two of the Biomantas, but they had little effect on the boarding action.
The rescue for the orbital platform was over. Now the battle for ANS Titania would begin. Not a soul aboard her thought for a second it was a fight they could win. They were right.
* * *
ANS Conqueror, near Helios Prime
Helios Prime looked little different to the early days of the siege, yet every single person aboard ANS Conqueror knew the ba
ttle was going badly. Contingents from Helios and the Byotai had boosted the size of the fleet. But even when combined with the small trickle of reinforcements from T’Karan, it still only increased the fleet to just over a hundred and fifty ships. In any other circumstances it might have been an invincible fleet, but up against the Leviathan Ark and its escorts, there was simply no comparison. With every attack being repulsed, they were forced to withdrawal to the secondary deployment point at the entrance to the T’Karan Rift. It was the only way back to Alliance territory, and therefore the single most important piece of space to High Command. With no Rift, there would be no reinforcements, no counter-offensive, and also no way to evacuate Alliance personnel.
Admiral Lewis paced about inside the CIC, to the irritation of his officers. He’d been moving back and forth for nearly four whole minutes while they waited for the latest reports from the fleet, as the ships limped back to their holding position almost a day from Helios Prime. The officers spoke quietly, but there was clearly a mood of despondency on the ship, one brought about by weeks of death, loss, and failure.
“It was a good effort. We nearly succeeded, dammit!”
His voice was quiet, and few could make out what he was saying even though the volume in the CIC was already almost silent. The tactical display behind him showed the last phases of his third attempt in the last month to relieve Helios Prime. The operation had begun four days earlier as a long-planned and rehearsed operation. The battle had been a three-pronged assault, using the Byotai ships under General Makos, as well as contingents from the T’Kari and Helios to engage the ships from two directions. Once busy, he had sent in thirty Alliance ships directly at the Ark Leviathan, the official codename for the largest and most powerful of the vessels unleashed by the Biomechs. He’d also sent in three waves of ships to the remaining Helion defense platforms that had been disabled weeks before, all under the cover of the general assault.
It should have worked.
He tried to get the images of the lost ships out of his mind, yet the thought of those that had been trapped would not leave him. At least four ships had been heavily damaged trying to evacuate orbital stations. It was the image of ANS Titania that hurt him the most. The loss of a ship was bad enough, but the boarding actions of the Biomechs were different this time. The last messages had been hours ago, and they had been filled with screams and horrors. The Biomechs had boarded them and were taking prisoners for their infernal war machine. The enemy was broadcasting life video feeds of the event on open channels so that anybody could watch. In the end, he had been forced to block the signal, knowing full well how the horror of the surgical assault would cripple morale in his defeated fleet.
There’s a saying that they don’t take prisoners, and in a way they’re right. It would be better if everybody on board Titania put a bullet in their heads, because if they don’t, in a few weeks or months we’ll have to do it ourselves.
He shook his head and sighed.
It’s no way for our people to die. The bastards!
Admiral Lewis could see the video feeds of the cruisers surrounding the Ark in his mind as clearly as when he’d seen them coming in live. At the time his flagship had been commanding the four divisions of ships providing long-range bombardment gunfire to the attack, as well as controlling the squadrons of fighters. It was the video of the ground assault as the Maulers and Hammerheads unleashed platoon after platoon of marines and Jötnar assault troops into the Ark. Leviathan was well named, and most commanders were still unsure whether to class it as a starship or space station. It made little different to him; it was a massive military vessel filled with troops and capable of terrible power. In the confusion of battle, they had even made it aboard for a full twenty-three minutes before they’d been beaten back.
So many gone, and still they control Prime.
He shook his head, recalling the elite Red Watch Jötnar outnumbered ten to one in passageways against Decurions. Marines would have been wiped out in minutes, but the Red Watch had held the corridors to give the rest time to escape. Over ninety Jötnar had been lost fighting the rearguard. Each fought with such passion and skill that it wrenched his stomach just to think about it. All had died in the bloodbath, yet their kin continued to volunteer for yet more assaults.
“Admiral, are you all right?” asked his XO.
Admiral Lewis wiped his brow and nodded quickly.
“Yes, go ahead, continue with your assessment.”
The Captain moved back to the computer display he’d been using and continued checking the new reports. Admiral Lewis watched him for a few more seconds before the imagery returned to his eyes, even though they were both wide open. The fight, for want of a better word, had been a slaughter. He had no idea as to the casualties caused against the enemy; they seemed able to simply shrug off losses like he might toss away an unwanted coat. He, on the other hand, had seventeen ships, nineteen hundred crew, and nearly three thousand dead or wounded marines.
We can’t afford another battle like that.
The display above him showed the arrival times and location of each of the surviving units, and it was the percentage indicators that make his stomach shudder and ache. Some just showed a drop of a few percentage points, but one group was only at thirty percent strength, and he knew too well it had been a ten Liberty ship destroyer unit.
Seven ships lost, all from a single unit. Insanity.
It was his job to maintain the warfront though, and his orders were simple. With the largest force outside of Micaya and T’Karan, he would have to attack and harass the Leviathan whenever he was able. Every attack would reduce their ability to hit the planet, and that would ultimately save lives, as well hold off the possibility of an orbital assault on the planet. He stopped pacing and looked at his executive officer, Captain Marcus.
“Well, can it be done?”
The officer looked to Lt Vitelli, the ship’s tactical officer before looking back and shaking his head.
“There’s just no chance, Admiral. Even from orbit, they cannot breach the underground weapon system.”
“Yes, but what is left down there to stop them?”
The XO shrugged.
“Contact has been lost with all their forces since our last attack. If we want to speak with them, we’ll need to get a ship into low orbit. It’s risky.”
The raised eyebrows of the Admiral reminded that the man he was all too aware of the predicament they now faced. After weeks of combat, there really was little point in reminding him of such trivia.
“Admiral, what about the counterattack? I thought Citadel was supposed to resolve this?”
He closed his eyes and did his best to visualize the arrival of the fleet. In his mind, they would be like the cavalry in some ancient army story. But this was no story, and even another hundred ships would make little difference to what was happening out here.
“The Rift will be opened when, and only when Anderson is ready. We have only one chance with the counterattack. Our job in the meantime is to protect this Rift position against all comers. You saw the orders from Anderson. We will sacrifice every single ship if necessary to keep this point open. If they are able to turn their attention from Helios Prime, you can guarantee they will come in this direction. We have to keep them busy.”
They both looked at the columns of ships still making their way back from the bloody engagement. The casualty reports continually updated, and both tried to avoid looking at the increasing numbers of dead and wounded.
“Our forces can’t even reach half of their number, but we have nothing, and I mean nothing that can deal with the Ark. Every time we’ve tried to get close to it, they’ve hit us back hard. It seems they’re happy for us to go anywhere else, providing their Ark is safe.
“Indeed. That is why we need to work out a way to remove that threat. As well as being a vessel capable of destroying any ship in our fleet, it’s also the platform being used to conduct the continuous bombardment of Helios Prime. We ha
ve to find a way to stop it before Helios is lost.”
Captain Marcus moved closer and wiped his brow.
“Admiral, is there much of Helios left to save?”
They looked at each other, and it was only then Admiral Lewis truly understood how far he had failed. He’d retained most of his fleet and those ships under the command of alien generals like Makos. Even the ships under Captain Perry were still available to him, yet his one job of protecting Helios had been a complete failure. The destruction of Thunar should have been his crowning achievement, when in reality it had simply bought the planet a few more days. His job had been to keep Helios Prime safe. Yet every ship he’d lost made not the slightest bit of difference to the outcome on the planet.
“You truly believe the planet is lost?”
Captain Marcus sighed.
“Admiral, I think we lost Helios the day the bombardment started. All that’s left to know is how many we can save.”
They both knew he was right, but that didn’t make it any less painful for them. The Admiral looked back at the tactical display and then brought up the mapping information for the planet. It showed the underground Doomsday weapon system, as well as the positions for all ground units that were still waiting for the inevitable assault.
“So General Daniels is down there, waiting for them to attack. Can he hold when that happens?”
Captain Marcus lifted his upper lip a fraction and shook his head.
“You’ve seen the reports from Spascia. They are fighting a smaller Ark and no mass-driver bombardment. They have managed to hold back dozens of assaults, and still they are holding the ground in the heart of the city. The ground attacks are of a level that far surpasses High Command’s estimates.”
He pointed at the imagery of Helios Prime.
“Based upon the size of Leviathan, I think we can assume that when they decide to strike, it will be short, deadly, and will overwhelm General Daniels in a matter of hours. Unlike Spascia, this Ark appears to be of a completely different level to the smaller ones.”
Star Crusades Nexus: The Third Trilogy Page 31
