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Star Crusades Nexus: The Third Trilogy

Page 50

by Michael G. Thomas


  “Admiral Lewis is running a last ditch attempt to evacuate our ground forces. He’s already picked up several units, but the enemy is growing in strength. If he stays much longer, he could lose the fleet.”

  Admiral Anderson nodded impatiently and gave the nod to the helmsman.

  “Take us through, now.”

  A low rumble shook through the massive vessel as its main engines powered up, and then they were moving. At first it was hard to tell if they were traveling particularly quickly, and this wasn’t helped with little around them to give an impression of speed. Then they were heading toward the Rift at even greater speeds. It was only when a transport came back though and into T’Karan space that it became clear the ship was traveling at a considerable velocity. General Rivers nodded to a group of ships waiting off to one side.

  “The Black Ships, they will be following right behind.”

  It was a statement, not a suggestion, and one he knew the Admiral was wary of. Few in the military would doubt Spartan or Colonel Morato’s resolve in the face of the enemy. This was different now. They were carrying a deadly cargo, and one that could potentially turn and bite the very hand that fed it. Both watched the vessels warily as flames pumped out from the rear. It was a simple gesture, but it signaled their intent to follow, and they joined the column of ships heading for the Rift in surprising time. At the center of the Black Ships was a single Alliance heavy warship, ANS Dreadnought. It was the additional group of civilian transports that surprised the General.

  “Uh, what are they doing here?”

  Anderson threw a quick glance in their direction.

  “Yes, the ships from Hyperion. Recognize the markings?”

  General Rivers smiled.

  “Jötnar, of course. How could they not be here?”

  Admiral Anderson sent off a batch of order notifications to three of the capital ships before returning his gaze to the large screen. The shapes of the civilian transports and passenger liner were unusual to see, especially in pseudo-military markings.

  “Yes. It looks like Gun’s kin are anxious not to lose out on this one. They’ve hired or bought an entire squadron of heavy transports and mining ships for work on Hyperion, Prometheus, and now out here in T’Karan. They are licensed to haul freight and ore between nine locations right now, yet are they doing that today?”

  The General smiled, and Admiral Anderson continued. He pointed to the nearest of them.

  “Now those ships are filled to the brim with Jötnar. Many came from Prometheus, but the majority are from from Hyperion. Some of them are new generation, born using the equipment we helped install on Hyperion. A lot will never have seen combat before.”

  He didn’t seem particularly worried about the last part, but he was definitely uncomfortable with the entire affair. He paused and looked to General Rivers whose expression was almost impossible to fathom.

  “And do you know what?”

  General Rivers raised an eyebrow in answer. Admiral Anderson’s face changed color as the vessel entered the Rift. Bright colors and flashes altered his skin tone and even seemed to distort the man himself, and then they were through.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  The General nodded in agreement.

  “True, very true,” he agreed, “There’s no more reliable or violent soldier than a Jötnar. My last visit on Hyperion was just over a year ago. I witnessed the birthing of sixteen new Jötnar. The equipment takes nine to ten months to fully develop a fetus, but they come out the size and strength of a teenager.”

  They were through the Rift, and although General Rivers had done his best to ignore it, now that they were through his body seemed to relax. The other side looked little different, apart from the subtle shades of yellow and orange caused by gases and dust in the Helion System. Hundreds of ships lurked near the Rift, the majority being Alliance in design. The strangest was the long lines of liners and transports from a dozen worlds, each making for the Rift.

  “What’s going on?” asked the General.

  Admiral Anderson sighed as he looked at the same imagery.

  “That, my friend, is what happens when an enemy like the Biomechs arrives, and offers nothing but genocide to every soul it meets.”

  He nodded in the direction of the nearest vessel, a dull gray heavy transport that was badly damaged on a side of its hull. There were markings in an alien tongue running down one side of the nose section.

  “Helion liner with Zathee designators. They are refugees with seven thousand civilians on board. The designation on the side shows their origin as the moon of Gaxos.”

  “The first Biomech attack. I thought NHA forces had retaken the moon?”

  “We have, but this ship left months ago. Would you want to go back to a place that had been fought over and nuked from orbit?”

  He looked back to the ship and spoke to himself.

  “While those of us that can fight do so, there will always be others that are forced to flee.”

  More shapes flickered behind them as the rest of the fleet came in. A tiny number of T’Kari ships. Some of the few vessels still remaining also moved alongside the heavily armored Alliance ships. A single squadron of six private security craft from Kerberos was also present, but they seemed to be hiding back behind the military vessels. Light from the hot star of the Helios System put orange and yellow hues on the flat panels of the ships, while the opposite sides vanished into cold blackness. It was an impressive sight.

  “Right, let’s see how we’re doing,” said Admiral Anderson.

  He looked down at the horizontal tactical display with its multi-layered three-dimensional model. Each planet in the system was shown by a while orb, and colored details highlighted troop numbers and status. Other icons marked the multiple fleets of ships from all sides, the majority focused around Spascia and Helios Prime. He looked at each and then stopped at reaching the more distant planet of Gaxos, and its moon Eos.

  “So that’s the closest friendly territory to the Black Rift, and we have full control of the place. What assets are available, if needed?”

  General Rivers nodded and checked his secpad while looking at the tactical display.

  “Limited marine forces, but there are three full divisions of NHA soldiers. All are veterans of the cleaning up campaign. We do have small groups down there, including Captain Carter and a company of recon marines.”

  Anderson wiped his brow. The fleet was now almost fully assembled, and the enormity of what needed to be done was clear. He commanded hundreds of ships and hundreds of thousands of men and women. He moved his hands as he selected each of the planets and checked the information. Now that they were in the Helios System, he was able to take advantage of the terabytes of data arriving every minute to his flagship. Individual regiments, starships, and space stations sent reports and requests for help.

  “So, we still have two planets under enemy occupation or under siege, and both are surrounded by enemy fleets.”

  He selected the larger of the planets and pulled his hands apart to enlarge it.

  “The Helios Prime Ark, codenamed Leviathan is in the atmosphere and leading the assault on the Helion homeworld. General Daniels has vanished, and Admiral Lewis is evacuating marines from the surface.”

  “Eighty-five percent transfer complete, Admiral,” said the tactical officer.

  Admiral Anderson nodded but said nothing in response. He had just minutes, perhaps seconds until the entire fleet was in position. Then, and only then, would he sanction the deployment to the enemy war zones. He glanced at the disposition of his forces and almost panicked while looking for the massive engineering vessel, ANS Explorer.

  There she is.

  The ship dwarfed even his flagship in both length and bulk. Even so, it took him several seconds to actually find the vessel amongst the myriad of craft coming in from Alliance space. A dozen Liberty fleet defense destroyers stayed close to its hull as well as thirty fighters.

  “
Eighty-eight percent.”

  General Rivers showed his secpad to Anderson.

  “I’m getting some pretty serious contact from High Command on Terra Nova. They are trying to hold back the last few ships.”

  Admiral Anderson barely even looked at the data.

  “Churchill will keep them in order. He’s already locking down the border.”

  General Rivers rubbed at his cheek.

  “You know they’ll make us pay for this, assuming we actually make it back.”

  Admiral Anderson almost laughed at his suggestion.

  “General, I think we have far greater concerns today than whether we’ll be in trouble when we go home. Let’s save our people and end this war. We’ll deal with the consequences when the fate of the galaxy doesn’t rest on our shoulders.”

  It was a tongue-in-cheek comment, but General Rivers couldn’t but help feel the words were harsher than normal.

  He doesn’t think he’s coming back.

  They both looked back at the tactical display and the other planets being held primarily by the NHA ground forces.

  “So, so with Eos recaptured by the New Helion Army, we have a jump-off point to the Black Rift, if and when it becomes necessary. Captain Carter’s forces have captured several pieces of Biomech equipment that might prove useful.”

  He then moved the vast distance to the hated Black Rift, the one area of space every race tried to avoid. Icons for Helion, Alliance, and T’Kari forces showed around the Rift station. Of real concern were the three red blocks representing Biomech forces nearing the Rift. Alongside their icons were numbers and statistics concerning the fleet disposition, velocity, and more importantly, their ETA.

  “Two hours, that’s all we have. Goddamn two hours!”

  The news was hardly new, but the data had updated in the last minute, showing the enemy vessels had adopted an odd tactic. Even General Rivers appeared surprised at what he was seeing. He pointed to the segment in question that was far ahead of the other two-thirds of the fleet.

  “A third of their fleet still hasn’t reversed course. There is no way for them to be able to play a part in an assault on the station or the Black Rift defense force.”

  Even as he spoke, he could see what was going to happen.

  “You’re partially correct, General. The other two sections will hit in two hours. This other splinter group started their deceleration much later. They will arrive in forty minutes, perhaps a little more. Their increased velocity will take them to our forces and then beyond.”

  “You’re kidding? A strafing run.”

  “Perhaps, or it could be a suicide run on the station.”

  While the two contemplated this, the sirens continued to blare through the warship. Crewmembers moved to their stations, readying for the start of the massive operation. A number of fighters had already detached from the port hull where they had been attached to increase the number of fighter craft for the operation. There were more than a dozen fighters and a similar number of drones waiting just behind ANS Warlord. Admiral Anderson creased his brow a little and then put the focus of the display on the two other planets important to the Helions.

  “They have two more Arks heading for Micaya and Libuscha. When they land, we can expect at least…”

  “Admiral, reports from the surface. There’s a major energy bloom in progress. The planetary defense weapon is firing.”

  The color seemed to drain from the faces of the two senior officers.

  “The Doomsday Weapon,” Anderson said through clenched teeth.

  He turned about and bellowed at the mixture of officers through the CIC.

  “Get everything through the Rift, and fast!”

  The mainscreen altered its angle to show the Rift back to T’Karan. As before, more and more ships came through with their engines blazing hot in the icy coldness of the void. Two transports narrowly avoided a fatal collision as they arrived simultaneously but on a converging course. Only the quick actions of their helmsmen narrowly averted disaster.

  “Keep them coming!”

  The sound inside the CIC almost doubled as the officers did their best to manage the array of transports and warships as the last few tried to rush the gauntlet before the inevitable.

  “How many more?”

  “Uh…seventeen, no, sixteen more ships to come through, Admiral,” said the tactical officer.

  General Rivers pointed at the shape of ANS Devastation, the only surviving ship of her force that had been lost en route from Prometheus. The Black Ships waited patiently alongside, with the bright shape of the Rift right behind them; a cruiser appeared and then another. That was when the weapon struck. The effect on the Rift was instantaneous as the invisible beam slammed into the phenomena and began breaking down the carefully managed Spacebridge. They all watched in horror as just three-quarters of the cruiser appeared. The entire aft section was missing, and the vessel belched gas and flames from its ruptured compartments.

  “Battlestations!” the Admiral shouted.

  The ship was already at a high state of alert, and the call to battlestations was almost unnecessary. More than anything it drew the attention of the officers to the two men and to the new predicament.

  “Get lifeboats out there. Fighters in the air, we’re going to war.”

  “Admiral, we have an emergency broadcast from the Black Rift defense force. They say something is happening out there.”

  He then looked to the General when the communications officer called out.

  “An urgent message from ANS Dreadnought.”

  The two senior commanders looked at each other and spoke at the same time.

  “Spartan.”

  “Admiral, he wishes to speak with both of you.”

  “Put him on.”

  Anderson angled his head just a little.

  “What might the great Spartan want now?”

  The imagery from the Black Rift appeared on the mainscreen. The defending ships looked tiny alongside the station, especially this far from the Helion star. What caught his eye was the ripple and flashing effects in the background.

  “Is that what I think it is?” General Rivers asked.

  Anderson shook his head in amazement.

  “They are trying to open a Rift, the crazy bastards. They are going to open the Black Rift.”

  He rubbed his forehead in frustration and then looked intently at the General.

  “ANS Explorer can create a short-range Rift, but only one.”

  “Yes, and the plan is for Spascia. We split the fleet and overrun the Biomech forces at Spascia and Helios Prime. Are they ready?”

  * * *

  ANS Dreadnought, T'Karan-Helios Prime Rift

  The Conqueror class warship swiveled about along its axis to take up a lead position ahead of the Black Ships. Several more civilian transports also moved in with the Hyperion flagged vessels. It was a tiny number compared to the rest of the fleet, yet combined the force had the capacity to spearhead an assault, or even take over an entire space station or small moon. Small groups of Biomech fighters had been left silent and deactivated near the Rift, and they were already moving in to attack the smaller Alliance ships. Before Operation Citadel could begin a massive dogfight was already underway.

  Spartan watched them go via the live external feed inside his Marine Corps helmet. He’d expected there to be resistance as they came through, but a cloud of fighters would do little to halt their progress. He looked to Teresa, noting her smart armor with its embellishments as befitted her rank. His equipment was right from Marine Corps stocks and no different to that worn by the rank and file. It felt strange to be in the uniform of the Corps, even more so as he was still technically a civilian. Even odder was the fact that he was now on hold with Admiral Anderson, the commander of the entire Naval operation.

  “That’s thirty-five ships leading the fleet already. The rest are moving into columns, just as planned,” said Khan.

  The nerves amongst the officers wer
e already frayed as far as was possible. This deployment was the first and last attempt to recover Helios Prime and its colonies. There was no backup plan, nothing other than the shutting down of the T’Karan-Helios Rift and losing contact with everything they had discovered.

  We don’t have long, Spartan thought.

  The cool fear, the stricken nerves, and the sense of what was to come had spread to every part of the ship. As more imagery arrived of the assault on Helios, it could only get worse. Each of them had seen the live streams from the surface, the burned and destroyed cities, the heaps of corpses, and the hundreds of ships that continued to drop off more and more soldiers. Helios Prime had already fallen, and all that remained were those that had made it underground.

  The imagery of the destruction wrought on the last few ships coming through the Rift was terrible to watch. Spartan nodded in agreement, but the faces of Admiral Anderson and General Rivers appeared in his helmet.

  “We’re ready to deploy. What do you need, Spartan?” Anderson asked.

  “Admiral. What’s the status of the Rift?”

  There was a pause that seemed to last forever. Spartan, Teresa, and Khan were all that remained of the officers that had taken part in the fighting on Mars. Major Terson and the other Captains had been sent to their new posts aboard the six Liberty class vessels known as the Black Ships. Deep inside these vessels waited eight of the eleven bandon that had been discovered, as well as the six other Biomech commanders. Three more bandon waited patiently inside the landing bay and storage areas of the massive warship. Spartan stopped and looked at the imagery of the two officers.

  “Admiral?”

  Still there was no answer. The small group moved about the deck and examined their forces. This wasn't the first time they had run this inspection, but it was the first time since Spartan had authorized the removal of all core programming from every single one of them.

 

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