Star Crusades Nexus: The Third Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Spartan, there is activity at the Black Rift. We have T’Kari ships on standby as well as two Helion cruisers. If they manage to open the Rift, we will have it shut in seconds.”

  Spartan shook his head in annoyance.

  “Admiral, they won’t open the Rift unless they can keep it open. What about their own taskforce?”

  Again there was a pause.

  “Spartan, make sure you’re ready. I’ll be in touch shortly.”

  With that brief answer, he was gone.

  “Well?” Teresa asked, “To Spascia?”

  Spartan could detect the hope in her voice, a tone that was tinged with a little fear. Jack was on Spascia, as well as Gun and an entire host of people they knew. He was also well aware of the effect the presumed death of her other two children was having on her. Teresa’s face was pale and strained, something he found difficult to take in when he tried to plan for the coming campaign. They continued past the lines of warriors, even as squads of marines ran back and forth with equipment. Now each of the creatures and machines had been given full and complete control of its faculties. There were now subtle differences in the way they waited and watched, ways that only somebody familiar with them would have noticed.

  "What are they doing?" Teresa asked.

  Khan and Teresa flanked Spartan as they walked down the line between the groups of Thegns. They had adopted the same shape of dark gray worn by the Marine Corps but with colorful embellishments on their heads, chests, and shoulders. Every bandon had a unique color scheme, and every twenty bore colored markings on their heads or torsos. Spartan tilted his head slightly to look at her. It was Khan who spoke, his voice lower than normal and tinted with something bordering reverence.

  "The Thegns chose their own leaders, and the first decision they then made was to create a military structure. They chose units of twenty and then colors and symbols to go with them."

  Spartan started to speak, but the image of Captain Vetlaya appeared to each of them.

  "We’ve got a problem, a big damned problem.”

  “What is it?” Teresa replied.

  “The Helion ships at the Rift. They’ve turned their guns on the T’Kari. It’s a massacre out there. Our own ships are trying to help, but what isn’t destroyed is being hunted down.”

  “Helion? Why?” Khan asked.

  Spartan seemed to be the only one not surprised at the news.

  “That will be the Animosh and their allies. They’d rather operate as vassals of the machines than let the Zathee take control of their own worlds.”

  Teresa swallowed slowly, considering what was happening, but it was the Captain who continued to speak.

  “We have no way of closing the Rift. My science teams estimate it could open any second.”

  Spartan looked to Teresa, the look of fear clearly written across her forehead. She wasn’t stupid, and Spartan knew that. With the Rift possibly opening, there was no way the fleet could move to the aid of Spascia, at least not in the short run.

  “Colonel Morato. We have…”

  The image of the Captain moved to the side to be replaced by a much larger one of Admiral Anderson.

  “The enemy has begun the activation procedure to create a Spacebridge to the Black Rift. Operation Citadel will continue as planned, but a force under my command will move to the Black Rift and stop any further ships from arriving. All ship commanders will receive their orders shortly. Those that remain will continue under the authority of General Rivers to recover Helios Prime and then Spascia. Prepare to move out.”

  As he continued to outline the revised plan, Teresa turned and looked to Spartan.

  “Continue to Spascia?”

  She reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “If Explorer doesn’t create a bridge to Spascia, it will take weeks to get troops to the planet. Does Jack have that long?”

  Spartan swallowed, but he couldn’t lie. Teresa had been a marine longer than him now. She knew the odds, and she knew the situation they now found themselves in. He also understood the effect of losing her two children was having, even though she did her best to hide it.

  “Teresa, if we ignore the Black Rift, they will come through, and this entire operation will be over. Helios will fall and so will our forces.”

  She shook her head.

  “No. We could evacuate both planets, leave Helios and this damned Black Rift.”

  Khan pulled his head back in surprise at this suggestion.

  “No, that’s not going to happen. It will take weeks to evacuate our forces, and to where?”

  Spartan nodded in firm agreement.

  “Khan’s right. With the Spacebridge to T’Karan gone, there’s nowhere we can go. Helios is where our future will be decided.”

  Teresa tightened her grip on his arm and looked intently at him. Her eyes strained, and he could see the fear beginning to turn into something else.

  “I’ve lost Matius and Ingo. I won’t let Jack die on an alien rock, not alone, not this time. You never saw him on Helios, Spartan. He’s not like us.”

  Spartan looked to Khan, but this time his old friend had little to offer. The three of them waited alone in the midst of an army of alien life. If they’d had the time to consider what was happening, they might have appreciated the irony. Instead, it came down to Z'Kanthu who marched toward them with a guard of Thegn warriors. Though armed and equipped as normal, the Thegns wore their new colors and unit markers with an odd look of pride. He moved right up to them and then stopped.

  “The data from the Rift, I know the signature.”

  As usual his voice was monotone and machinelike. All three looked at him and waited for him to continue, but the machine waited for them to speak.

  “Well?” Spartan asked impatiently.

  A light flashed on his chest, and then a holographic representation of the Helion System appeared. It moved and then stopped at the Allied fleet and station near the Black Rift. The imagery flickered about but proved stable and detailed enough for them to see individual ships.

  “Yes, the Rift. We just received contact from Admiral Anderson. He thinks the Rift is about to open.”

  Z'Kanthu lifted himself up half a meter, and then shook his body as if to say no.

  “This signature is similar to some of the technology being developed back during our own war with the enemy. If the T’Kari and the Helions had not forced them back when they did, this equipment might have been used.”

  Teresa stepped closer to the machine.

  “What does it do?”

  A motor whirred gently before he answered her.

  “It is the next development of the Rift generating technology. A single station or massive ship could create a stabilizing field from within the Spacebridge as it travels through. Providing the station stays on both sides of the Rift, it can keep it open, even through spatial disturbances.”

  Spartan and Teresa failed to understand, looking to each other for clarification.

  “Disturbances?” Khan asked, “Like the weapons used by the T’Kari?”

  Z'Kanthu answered with a hissing sound.

  “Yes.”

  Teresa understood the implications immediately.

  “Z'Kanthu, you’re saying the Biomechs could get this machine into position and hold the Rift open indefinitely, even if our allies use the Rift collapsing technology? Does it even work?”

  Z'Kanthu lifted his metal shoulder in a mock shrugging action.

  “I do not know. It was an experimental machine in the war and was never tested. They have had hundreds of years in exile to perfect it though. If they have made the system work, then they will definitely use it.”

  Spartan looked to Teresa.

  “If he’s right, this could be the end.”

  Her eyes widened, and she found it hard to speak.

  “Spartan, you and Khan will have to stop them.”

  She started to move away. Spartan grabbed her shoulders and turned her back around.

 
“Where are you going?”

  “To join General Rivers. We will take care of the planets. You take Khan and the rest and end this war. Understood?”

  Khan’s eyes narrowed as he listened. He knew how hard it had been for Spartan to be separated for so long. Now it looked like they would be splitting apart once more. He watched as the two spoke quietly, and then Teresa turned and walked away, never looking back. Spartan finally turned around to look at him and Z'Kanthu. His eyes were red and his face taut and hard.

  He’s ready, thought Khan.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Hyperion flagged starships chartered by the Jötnar marked a first for their race. Private security vessels had, of course, been used in the past, but never had so many been hired and retasked before. When the fleet arrived in Alpha Centauri, it wasn’t just the official military forces that arrived for the fight. The so-called ‘Black Ships’ bore the iconography of Hyperion as well as the distinctive markings of the Jötnar families. These ships would take private warbands of Alliance citizens into battle alongside the professional Marine Corps regiments. Most, if not all, probably thought they would be fighting to assist their kin on the battlefields of Helios Prime and Spascia. In reality, the bulk of these forces would follow Spartan and his comrades in a desperate rush to the Black Rift.

  Origins of Private Space Travel

  ANS Conqueror, over Helios Prime

  Admiral Lewis held onto the straps as the ship took a broadside from a Biomech Ravager. The ship had managed to pull alongside in a gap created by three of the Alliance ships. The accuracy of either ship at this range was irrelevant. Instead, it came down to the loading speed and potency of the kinetic weaponry.

  “Report!”

  Lieutenant Vitelli and Captain Marcus feverishly checked the reports coming in. The XO spoke first.

  “Hull is breached, minor damage. All systems are nominal.”

  He looked at the mainscreen that showed an enhanced, heavily stabilized view of the massive underground defense installation. The roof and nearby road system were heavily damaged, yet he had no doubt the majority of the system was intact, protected from attack by the deep tunnels and thick armor.

  “What about Daniels?”

  The XO looked at him and shook his head.

  “We’ve lost contact with his forces inside the facility. The Biomechs have breached three entrances now and are establishing a perimeter.”

  A pair of hypersonic missiles detonated just short of the underside of the massive warship. They exploded prematurely, but the debris smashed into the armor plating with such force it could be felt this far inside the ship.

  “We have to get out of here,” said Captain Marcus.

  Admiral Lewis looked at his XO and then to his tactical display. The icons showing the number of Biomech vessels now inside the planet’s atmosphere had increased exponentially. Even more worrying was that the Leviathan Ark had now breached the lower atmosphere and was heading directly for them, along with hundreds more vessels.

  “Just look at them. We’re outnumbered five to one already, and their numbers are increasing.”

  The lower gun turrets continued firing, each targeting any ground forces or landers that were now working their way through the city ruins. Thegns, Decurions, and Eques walkers numbered in the tens of thousands and were working methodically street-by-street and block-by-block. The Admiral watched as a pair of quad guns shredded an Eques walker as it tried to pursue a Helion civilian vehicle down a rubble-filled street.

  “And the weapon?”

  “It’s still firing, but it’s off course by eighty-two kilometers, and the gap is widening,” said Lieutenant Vitelli.

  He turned around and looked at the Admiral. He looked as surprised as the rest of them.

  “There was a massive, highly focused AMP pulse throughout the one section of the site. The accuracy failed after that, and now it is way off from the Spacebridge.”

  “Great, so we can reopen it, but only when the space distortion stabilizes. How long?”

  Nobody answered the rhetorical question. It was well known since their first encounter with the T’Kari that the technology used to collapse Rifts was unreliable at best. Sometimes the Spacebridge could be reopened in hours, but on other occasions it could take days, week, or even months. All Admiral Lewis needed to know was that the longer the distance, the greater effect the distortion would have.

  “We’re on our own for now. At least Anderson got through with most of the fleet.”

  A number of new alerts sounded, but what really caught his eye was the number of shapes approaching the upper atmosphere.

  “Whose ships are those?”

  Captain Marcus checked several of the IFF transmissions. All Alliance ships were required to have the equipment fitted, and each vessel transmitted a unique code. He double-checked what he had seen before looking back to the Admiral.

  “You are really not going to believe this.”

  The view on the mainscreen split in the middle to show the view of the ground battle as well as the sky. Hundreds of white streaks leapt up into the sky from ground forces blasting away at the new arrivals. Black shapes sheathed in smoke and flame smashed down through the sky. As the largest and first of them came lower and began to slow, its shape became more obvious. Each of the races had a particular distinctive look, and the bow of this ship was known to every one of them.

  “It’s one of ours,” said Lieutenant Vitelli.

  They watched dozens more ships come through with long trails of smoke behind them. The craft came down in multiple waves, each batch heading for different parts of Helios Prime. The largest of them all made directly for Ark Leviathan that was beginning to settle over the surface near the Doomsday Weapon. The ship’s communications officer began to wave feverishly and then called out.

  “Admiral, we’ve got an urgent wideband transmission coming from that ship.”

  “Put it on the speakers.”

  The sound crackled but cleared up as its strength continued to increase. The sound that came out was unmistakable to most of the officers present, none more so than Admiral Lewis himself.

  “General Rivers?” he gasped.

  The name sent a calming wave throughout the CIC. The man might technically be out of the actual combat chain of command, but out here, and in such a warzone, there could be nobody better to have on your side. General Rivers was a warhorse, a man who lived and breathed war. He’d fought for decades, and news that he had arrived was exactly the kind of news Admiral Lewis needed.

  “…Operation Citadel has begun. If you have weapons, use them. Helios Prime is under the control of the Alliance. My plan is being sent out to all unit commanders. Mobilize all forces and prepare for battle.”

  Admiral Lewis looked about the CIC and could have wept at seeing such looks of happiness showing on their faces. Only a man like the General could have instilled such a feeling through the force, even for people too young to have ever served under the man.

  “…we will not leave this world until every single Biomech warrior is dead or captured. Operation Citadel will cleanse Helios of every taint of the enemy. My name is General Rivers, and I am taking command of Alliance operations on this planet. Let the battle begin!”

  A cheer of pure excitement rippled through the CIC. Admiral Lewis almost laughed in relief at what he saw on his ship and only imagined the same would be felt throughout the rest of the fleet. He grabbed the intercom and selected the wideband channel to all of his forces.

  “This is Admiral Lewis. Our reinforcements have arrived. Operation Citadel is a go. I repeat; Operation Citadel is a go.”

  He checked back on the tactical display to make sure it was not just a handful of ships. His smile widened as ship after ship appeared as they came through the atmosphere. Ships of a dozen classes hurtled downwards with their cargos of warriors, fighters, and weapons.

  “I am deferring all ground forces to the control of General Rivers. We’re not l
eaving. We’re staying, and we’re going to win this fight!”

  He deactivated the intercom and beckoned toward his XO.

  “I need to speak with General Rivers. We’ve a campaign to coordinate, and something tells me he’s going to want to handle the ground operation.”

  * * *

  General Rivers watched the unfolding battle from the CIC of ANS Ticonderoga. He could see the courses of the first forty or so ships from this position, but it was the state of the planet that stunned him.

  “What is it?” asked the Captain of the ship.

  General Rivers looked back at the woman, Captain Jeanie Wilson. She was one of the oldest ship captains in the fleet, and from what he’d read she had originally served as a marine. Damage to her legs had forced her out of frontline combat, but she’d fought hard and worked her way back up as the Captain of the massive vessel. She was taller than most of those in the CIC and lacked any discernible sense of humor.

  “The planet, it’s in a much worse state than I expected.”

  He looked back at the battered, sterile environment filled with shattered skyscrapers, fires, and smoke. Dozens of ships lay discarded and smashed, with fires raging deep inside their engine, ammunition, and reactor cores. Most were Biomech vessels, but he counted at least three Crusader ships lying broken and burned on the surface of Helios Prime.

  “That’s what weeks and weeks of bombardment will do to a planet, General. Don’t forget the underground system, though. The Helions were not stupid. Our reports show that in the last war many of them were forced to shelter against the Biomech weapons. There is just as much under the surface as there was above it.”

  “You’re not wrong, Captain; we’re already getting reports from scattered marine squads and platoons across the planet.”

  He turned about and focused his attention on the scores of icons popping up across the planet. Many were of different sizes to show the estimated strength of those still alive and able to fight. Different colors showed Marine Corps and NHA forces separately, with many of the NHA units now broken up into smaller forces.