Star Crusades Nexus: The Third Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Did the signal get through?”

  The man nodded.

  “Good. Send out a general distress call that we are under attack by renegade military forces. I want the news to get to every colony. Mars, Kerberos, Carthago, Prime…all of them.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  He then turned his attention to Lieutenant Young, his security chief who was already waiting in full tactical gear, alongside a single four-man fireteam.

  “We've got a single platoon of marines on board, right?”

  The man nodded quickly.

  “Yes, Sir, thirty-six marines, each one a veteran of the Helion Uprising. They are skilled and experienced, Sir.”

  He tried to look reassuring, but it was far from that. Instead, he nodded to the others in the station, especially the technical staff and engineers.

  “We might be down on numbers, Sir, but all personnel on this station have been trained in basic combat. They are ready to defend themselves if necessary. We have the basic weapons and gear in the combat lockers, and I’ve drilled them every week for the last nine months on this.”

  He pointed to the plan of the station.

  “We use our own people to provide a limited perimeter defense, nothing major, just a screen. Further back, we have the regulars as a mobile reserve. We’ve drilled it, and I can have a squad to hold a sector in a maximum of six minutes.”

  Colonel Pierce had his moment of doubt as he looked at the marine, but he couldn’t argue with his logic. The never-ending drills had become something of a minor issue on the station. He had a hundred jobs that needed doing, especially with the clandestine operations to bring additional ground troops through the Rift. Many of these were no more than thugs and criminals, but there were plenty of retired military in the mix as well as those looking to make a quick buck. The risk to security with these people was much greater than normal, especially when a number of their commanders had been brought on board for clearance.

  This is much worse.

  The idea of marines defending tunnels and passageways was worrying enough. But this idea of sending out engineers, scientists, and technicians with light weapons could result in only one thing, mass casualties for both sides.

  I’ve got to defuse this thing. I’ve got to.

  “What about the transport? Are they still on board?”

  Lieutenant Young smiled.

  “I sent the order for them to stay until we knew what was happening. They are waiting to hear if we need help. The main landing bay is secured, and they are not far from us.”

  That was the first bit of good news he’d heard all day. He looked to the mainscreen where the live stream from the enemy command ship continued to run. He’d seen the same model of ship many times. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that this particular vessel had been one of those waiting to be scrapped. There were a number of high-orbit decommissioning sites around Terra Nova where old ships went to die. Even this far into the future, and with so many planets, it was more cost effective to strip down old ships than to harvest new materials. Scores of ships from the Uprising a generation ago had been sent there as they were replaced with newer classes of ship.

  Surely not? Is this where Harrison has been building up his base of support, with the old shipyards and scrappers?

  The entire industry of scrappage had been a massive issue of the last five years, primarily due to involvement by gangs and criminals. The materials and equipment used on military ships, even the old models, were worth considerable amounts of money. He rubbed at his jaw and made a mental note to look into this further. Then he spotted movement near the shuttles.

  The idiots! Are they trying to start a war?

  “Captain. Do not make the mistake of trying to board this station. I am authorized to use lethal force against any intruder.”

  The man chuckled on the other side via the live videostream that was being sent out unencoded and on more than thirty different bands.

  “There are no intruders here. These are Alliance Navy vessels, and I am sending teams over to assist in your security operations. I expect nothing less than professional courtesy and all the help you can offer me.”

  The Colonel was on the brink of resignation when he noticed the groan from two female officers. He looked to them and watched as one dropped to her knees and vomited uncontrollably.

  “What’s going on?”

  More of the officers began talking, but he could see the communications officer waving at him furiously. As soon as they made eye contact, the man beckoned for him to come to his screen. Colonel Pierce walked the short distance, along with a handful of other officers.

  “What is it?”

  There was no need to answer, though. It was a live videostream by the Alliance News Network, the official voice of the government. It showed the Grand Palace on Terra Nova. Lines of civilians and soldiers filled the space while a speech continued. In the center was a beautiful sculpture of men fighting creatures and on the floor a number of still forms. It was the scrolling ticker that stunned every one of them. It simply read that a full-scale coup was underway by the forces of General Rivers and separatists amongst the Biomechs.

  “Is it true?” asked a junior science officer.

  Colonel Pierce brought his fist down onto the console.

  “How can you even ask this? General Rivers is assisting with combat operations in the Helios System.”

  He looked at the image and then pointed at three points on the screen.

  “Magnify those.”

  It took seconds for each of the segments of video to be enlarged and enhanced on the bank of screens. Each showed the scene from a different vantage point. The first was of the bodies, their heads still covered. The second showed long lines of soldiers in a strange version of the Marine Corps armor. The final image was of President Harrison and his entourage.

  “It says those bodies are generals taken from the fighting over Terra Nova.”

  He turned back to look at his own officers.

  “Those generals are already in T’Karan, along with Admiral Churchill.”

  “So who are they?” asked the science officer.

  There was still doubt in the young officer’s voice.

  “I have no idea. But based on the expression on Harrison’s face, you can be sure it is somebody he fell out of favor with.”

  “Sir. There’s more,” said the communications officer.

  This time he didn’t bother checking and simply diverted the latest feed to the three screens on the right. It showed several ancient warbarges and a number of other unidentified ships engaging in a violent space battle. The text underneath described how loyal Alliance forces had beaten off rebel separatists over Terra Nova.

  “No, this is nonsense,” said Colonel Pierce, “There is no evidence that any of our military forces have been engaged in hostile action.”

  The chief science officer twisted about excitedly.

  “You’re right, Sir. Look. The computer has matched the location of the celestial bodies in the background. This is clearly Mars. I suspect it’s part of the fight between the Biomech ship and the defending Earthsec vessels from over a month ago.”

  The Colonel looked at the footage and watched until he lifted his hand.

  “Freeze that!”

  With the image now static, he moved his arms to zoom in. The detail blurred for a moment but quickly sharpened to show the flanks of an ancient war barge. It was the ship alongside it that he was most interested in.

  “There. That is no warship of ours. Look, she bares the insignia of Earthsec. Check her configuration with our systems.”

  The station’s chief tactical officer was already on it. In a few more seconds, he had detailed schematics up on the screen and alongside the frozen image of the ship. It was clear they were the same vessel, right down to the name emblazoned in black on her bow.

  “It’s ESS Dauntless, Sir, a four hundred-year old Commando Carrier. Her commander
is a Captain Thomas Cobb. According to our information, the ship is still at Mars, along with the Captain.”

  Colonel Pierce smiled, a grim expression that betrayed no real pleasure. He spoke loudly so that all those present would hear him loud and clear.

  “This footage confirms just one thing. The government on Terra Nova is going through a major crisis. I suspect this is a localized coup, with minor support from some of the planet’s less favorable criminals. There has always been a degree of distrust between the capital and the other colonies, but this…it is too much.”

  “Your orders, Sir?”

  They looked at each other only for a moment, but there was a clear understanding now.

  “They are fabricating evidence based on random videostreams spliced together. If they are prepared to do that, well, they are prepared to do almost anything to achieve their own ends. This last report is a mixture of the fighting at the Mars Rift several months ago and the relief force from Earth. The whole thing is garbage.”

  He looked away from the footage and tried to look reassuring.

  “None of us will raise a hand against our fellow citizens. We will, however, deny criminal forces from boarding our facility. We will not fire first, but I’ll be damned if I’ll roll over for another dictator. Understood?”

  A reasonably loud chorus of agreement came back. He knew they would do what was needed, even though none of them had the stomach for the potential bloodbath that was to come.

  “Good. Get units positioned at all airlocks, and prepare the medical bay for potential casualties. If they do try and force their way in, we can expect losses on both sides. We will be ready.”

  He then looked back to the communications officer.

  “Combine all of our external and internal feeds into a single stream. I want this broadcast to every repeater station in the Alliance. If Harrison thinks he can start his own personal fiefdom, he can forget it. We’ve had our civil war, and we’re not about to have another one. This will go out live.”

  He then walked to the Chief Engineer.

  “Keep the Rift open for as long as you can, but keep a close eye on it. If those ships try and make a break for it, you know what to do.”

  “I can close it right now, Sir?”

  Colonel Pierce shook his head.

  “No, the Rift is our gateway to T’Karan and to the Admiral. That is the only direction we can expect help. Just watch them. They cannot be allowed to enter T’Kari space.”

  With a nod the man went back to his screen, and now all Colonel Pierce could do was watch and wait. He looked to the screen on his right where a flashing message simply read that his status had been received. What kept drawing his eye was the counter. It read seven minutes.

  Come on! Hurry up.

  Lieutenant Young still waited, but he twisted his head and looked back for a second. He spoke quietly into his intercom and then stepped closer to the Colonel.

  “Sir. They’re armored up and ready.”

  “Good. Don’t use the comms. I need this kept quiet, and if they’ve got access to our records, they probably already known our communications procedures. Send a runner down there and bring them back.”

  Lieutenant Young saluted smartly and then moved off at a jog.

  * * *

  ANS Terra, Prometheus Sector

  Captain Jerome scratched at his cheek and looked over his shoulder at his crew. He remained completely confident in his mission, but the sight of the vast station was hard to ignore. He recalled his orders from Terra Nova and looked at it again.

  They know we’re Alliance military, so why are they resisting?

  He glanced down at the tactical schematic and overlay on a smaller screen. The armor and weapon systems were impressive, but he also knew the station's weak points. President Harrison had given him unlimited access to the Naval archives, at least the data that was still accessible. For some reason, large parts of it had been removed or destroyed. It wasn’t something he’d given much thought of, mainly down to his joy at being given such an important role. In all of his years on the planet, he’d thought his chance at starship command had long gone. The Navy was not interested, even though his record and credentials were perfect.

  Racist, self-righteous liberals!

  His opinion of the multi-colonial fleet had diminished year by year, spurred on by his inability to penetrate its ranks. He wanted command more than anything, and now he had it. While he’d been struggling to be accepted, he’d seen cadets from the Biomech spawned warriors on Hyperion joining up. One of the youngest had even been placed in charge of a frigate.

  All appeasement to these creatures and their masters; first they burned our world, and then they pretended to be our allies by burning it again. We will deal with all of them in time.

  He’d studied the plans for the station on his way out here, and what appealed to him the most was that the Prometheus Seven Station had never been intended as a military installation. Modern stations were designed with small entry points with each one being protected by redundant systems. This station was a grand affair from days of old, with massive landing docks, grand entrances, and staircases. Many of the interior sections had been designed to look more like early twentieth-century ocean liners. The exotic and degenerate had all been part of its interior aesthetic, and every part of it sickened him.

  He smiled to himself.

  This place is nothing more that a decadent hotel for the collaborators and their friends floating over a hellhole of a planet. If only Terra Nova had been stronger in the last war, we could have ended it on our terms, not theirs.

  He had no respect for the station, let alone the research and manufacturing plants on the planet below. The longer he was stationed there, the more he was beginning to like this assignment. It was almost enough to distract him from the latest problem with his own vessel. Unfortunately, the levels of stress and tension inside the ship had increased to an almost unbearable level, not helped by the fact that the internal climate control system had chosen that very moment to fail. Several of the engineers were already on it, but he had no doubt the age and condition of the ship was more likely to be the cause.

  “Somebody sort this out. Of all the times for this kind of failure, it happens in the middle of this!” he snapped.

  The temperature had risen ten degrees and was still rising, leading all of them to sweat profusely. It was more than just an irritation to him because he’d been forced to cut his live videostream. The embarrassment was something he had no intention of being reminded of by those sitting in the comfort of that orbital hotel.

  “Well, still no response?”

  All of his officers shook their heads.

  “Very well.”

  He turned his attention instead to a man in Terra Novan Guards uniform. The warrior had said nothing since they had arrived. Instead, he had been waiting and watching. The odd black hue gave the impression the man’s armor was plastic, and his well-trimmed mustache marked him out as one of the planet’s elite. He was neither a soldier, nor a politician. This man was an odd amalgamation of the two. A kind of politically indoctrinated officer, with influence back home with the new regime as well as in his own combat unit.

  “Your troops, are they ready to do what has to be done?”

  Lieutenant Dobbs smiled, a thin, cruel look that mirrored the ship’s captain.

  “I have my two platoons of Interior Ministry soldiers, and every single one of them is ready to do his duty for the homeworld. We all saw the execution of the traitors. They are well motivated to end this crisis, decisively.”

  The phrasing was unlike anything you might expect to hear from a member of the Alliance armed forces.

  “Good. Send them in, Lieutenant. I want you to lead them, personally. We cannot afford any mistakes. Terra Nova and the Alliance were once ruled by humanity alone. It is time for us to lead by example. We will ensure all civilian and military forces answer through the chain of command directly back to us, no questi
ons asked.”

  “Understood, Sir. This is a crisis, and Biomech collaborators will play no part in our destiny. It’s time to take back our colonies.”

  With a single smart salute, the man marched away, and Captain Jerome was left wondering quite who was the most serious here. He looked back to the screens and allowed himself a small smile.

  The Biomechs, the Helions, and the rest, they all play their games; but it will be humanity that will come out on top. The more they fight, the weaker they become. Admiral Anderson and his puppets will rue the day they sided with the bastard creatures of the Biomechs.

  To the surprise of those officers nearby, he spat onto the ground.

  We shall never forget what they did to our home.

  A warm bead of sweat dripped over his left eyebrow and ran into his eye, immediately causing him discomfort. It was a minor thing, but in this stress-filled environment it was the last straw.

  “Target their bridge and communications systems. Prepare to fire!”

  Only one of the technicians looked back to him. The young man’s eyes betrayed fear, or nerves. At this distance Captain Jerome wasn’t sure. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the crewman.

  If any of them falters on this mission, they will pay the price.

  Even as he considered the repercussions, he reached down and checked his sidearm was present. For a brief moment he felt a flutter of fear, but then his fingers found the reassuringly metal and plastic grip.

  Good. We’re ready to show our hand. Are they?

  * * *

  Prometheus Seven Outpost, Prometheus Sector

  The alarms had started up once more, but this time it was different. The danger wasn’t that unknown vessels had arrived. The risk to everybody on board was now directly related to the shuttles and their cargo of heavily armed soldiers. Small groups of people ran about the station with guns in their hands. Even fewer wore head protection or body armor. Even so, they moved quickly to the key vulnerable points on the station.