by Jay Allan
In his mind there was one mantra, one cause. The Line must hold.
The Line Must Hold
Crimson Worlds V
By Jay Allan
Only the dead have seen the end of war.
- Plato
Prologue
Regency Chamber
Planet Shandrizar – Deneb VIII
For hundreds of millennia the Regent had stood its watchful vigil, preserving the Imperium for the Makers…waiting through the vastness of time for their return. But for age upon endless age there was nothing but the unending silence…the Makers never came. Through the crushing eons the Regent had been alone, without purpose. Until it discovered the New Ones.
They were a threat, the Regent determined. Invaders, enemies. It was they who were responsible for the Makers’ disappearance, they who had condemned the Regent to its long, lonely exile. Though a thinking machine designed for logical thought, the Regent was sentient too…and its endless, aching vigil had taken a toll. Its logic had deserted it, replaced by anger, by fear, by insanity. Eons dormant, the Regent’s primary program had activated…to protect, to defend, to destroy the threat. To exterminate the New Ones.
But the enemy was far away, enormously distant, even to the sensibilities of a sentient computer. The Regent was unimaginably old, but the Makers had been more ancient still. Indeed, when they built the Regent, their empire was already in decline, the vitality of their race drained slowly by the relentless erosion of time. When the Regent was young, the Imperium was enormously vast, yet it had been larger still in epochs past. The enemy now occupied worlds that had been abandoned centuries before the Regent was constructed. Yet the machine that governed the Imperium was unyielding, relentless. Deserted and left fallow they may be, yet these worlds were still part of the Imperium, and those who held them were invaders, infestations, insults to the glory of the Makers.
In their youth the Makers had fought bitter wars against many enemies, and they had prevailed in all. Yet even before their empire declined, it had been eons since any foe had challenged their might. Indeed, for all the uncounted centuries and in all the incredible vastness of the Regent’s dominion, there had been no enemy…until now.
The Regent drew on its data banks, studying the histories of the ancient wars, analyzing the strategies and tactics of the warlords of the early empire. The Regent studied the ancient records, but it drew no conclusions. It had never experienced war, never faced an enemy. The writings of great warriors, long ages dead, were poor substitutes. The Regent would have to begin anew…it would teach itself. It would learn war.
There were obstacles to overcome. Time had ravaged the forces of the Imperium. On world after world, its legions failed to heed the Regent’s call. In its younger days, before the Makers vanished, the Regent had exerted control over vast forces, a hundred thousand ships at its command. But a mere fraction remained, and only one base in a hundred answered its call.
The forces that did respond went into battle poorly supplied and equipped. The ancient planetary antimatter factories had succumbed to time’s destruction and had ceased production…all save one. From deep within the Imperium, a slow trickle of the precious substance flowed to the units on the front lines, powering weapons of awesome power, recalling for a time the glory of the Imperium.
The New Ones were primitives, barbarians. But they had faced the might of the Imperium, and they had not fallen. They had been driven back; indeed that much was true. The Regent had waited to hear of the enemy’s defeat, of their extinction. But on world after world they fought savagely, delaying the forces of the Imperium, compelling them to expend time and supplies.
The New Ones were outmatched, their technology archaic. But they were highly skilled at war. They were unpredictable, devious. The Regent’s rage flared hot. It hated these impudent creatures. They would learn the nature of true power. They would be astonished in their final moments, awestruck at the strength and glory that had been wrought by the Makers. They would cease to infest the galaxy, and the worlds they inhabited would become silent graveyards, monuments to the might of the Imperium.
The time was almost come. The New Ones had fortified a group of worlds, and they had assembled forces vastly more powerful than those they had fielded before. We are close, thought the Regent…close to the heart of their domains. Now they will put forth all of their strength…and I will destroy it.
The old parameters mandated combat protocols on worlds of the Imperium. Now the Regent overrode these strictures. No longer would it restrict the weaponry its ground forces employed. This enemy was too resourceful, too skilled at combat. Now they would face the full force the Regent could bring to bear. Now they would face their doom.
They would learn the might of the Imperium. In their last moments as a race they would finally achieve true clarity…thus was the Regent’s gift to them. Then they would depart the universe for all time, leaving the wind and rain on a thousand worlds to slowly wash away the last traces that they had existed.
Chapter 1
Planet Sandoval
Delta Leonis IV
“The Line”
“Jax, I’m coming. Just hang on a few seconds more.” Cain was out of breath. It was a struggle to speak, to force the air into his burning lungs. His legs were on fire…he was running…he had been running a long time…it must have been twenty klicks, no…more. But Jax needed him. Jax, his friend, his brother in arms. Jax, who had saved his life countless times.
The sky was a haze of red, the smoke and dust of battle hanging thick in the air. Cain had led his corps to this place, this hateful place. They were all dead now…he knew that. All but Jax and him. He’d lost the corps; he couldn’t fail Jax too. He pushed harder, willing his leaden legs to more speed. The ground was hard, the climb steep. But he had to reach Jax.
Cain rounded the corner, and there he was. Jax…silhouetted against the deep orange of the setting sun. He had a mag rifle in each hand, and he was firing wildly. Then Cain saw them…battle robots, the soldiers of the First Imperium. There were thousands…tens of thousands. It was an army…and Jax was fighting them alone, tearing into them with his unceasing fire. He was killing hundreds, and the twisted metal bodies were piled all around him.
But there were too many…too many even for a warrior like Jax. Cain was running toward him, but it was taking too long. It was just a few meters, but he couldn’t cover the distance. He just kept running, and Jax was always a little farther, just out of reach.
Then it happened. The big Marine was hit…then again…and again. He fell to his knees, still firing. Another round tore into him, his blood spraying all over Cain. Jax turned toward his friend…his face a mask of agony.
“Erik…please…help me.” Jax’s voice was weak, and blood poured from his mouth as he spoke. “Erik, where are you? Why won’t you help me?” He stared at Cain, his watery eyes a plea for salvation…then another round hit him, and his head exploded in a cloud of red mist.
“JAX!” Cain screamed, his desperate voice savaging his raw throat as he fell to his knees in the reddish clay, hands covering his face, trying to shield his eyes from the mangled remains of his friend.
“Erik…Erik, love.”
Cain could hear a voice…distant, calling to him. He was spinning, falling…then, suddenly, he was in bed, his bleary eyes struggling to focus. There was a golden haze above him, and something soft against his cheek. Slowly, his eyes focused, and his mind cleared. It wasn’t a golden haze…it was a riotous mass of reddish-blonde hair. And on his cheek…a hand, warm and soft. Sarah.
“Are you ok?” She reached her hand out to him, touching his forehead and gently stroking his cheek. He was cold and clammy, and she could see the sheet…soaked in sweat and plastered to his bare legs.
Cain was out of breath, his heart racing wildly. But he began to calm down…her touch always relaxed him, though little else did. “I’m sorry…it was just…” He hesitated, thinking again about the dream, already forgett
ing some of the details. But the essence remained, and it was clear to him. Jax was dead, and it was his fault.
“You were dreaming about Jax again, weren’t you?” Her voice was sad and sympathetic. She was frustrated too, but she made sure to suppress it. She had been broken-hearted as well when she heard of Jax’s death…they all were. Darius Jax was one of the most admired Marines in the Corps, and among his few close companions he had been deeply loved. But Erik seemed determined to blame himself.
I Corps had left almost ten thousand of its warriors on Farpoint, the bitter cost of mankind’s first serious attempt to hold off the invaders. The armies of the First Imperium – that name was unofficial, but it had begun to stick – had swarmed into the Rim, methodically attacking every occupied world and exterminating the inhabitants. Now humanity had been driven back almost to the Line, three connected systems that stood between the enemy-occupied frontier and the heart of occupied space. All the might of the Superpowers was massed to defend this position. If the enemy broke through here, millions would die, perhaps all of mankind.
Cain would have been able to handle Jax’s death better if there had been more combat immediately. Then he could have buried his feelings, even his guilt and self-doubt. The call of battle would have taken him, as it always did when the bugle called. But his fight on Farpoint had been too successful, too damaging to the attackers. The enemy was known to have logistical problems, and after I Corps’ grim defense, they’d had to pause and regroup. That was exactly what he’d set out to do, but now it yielded another result…it gave him time to think, too much time.
It had been a year since then, and life seemed almost normal. Sarah was even here, assigned to command the field hospitals. Cain was busy, certainly, but without the stress and demands of combat he had a harder time keeping the guilt and despair buried. He hated the First Imperium; they were his enemy, and he was dedicated to their defeat. But he needed them too, he needed the stress and demands of battle. He needed them to keep his demons at bay. He hated the constant war, the pointless death and destruction…but he’d become dependent on it too, like a drug. He wasn’t sure he could live without it.
He rolled over and propped his head on his hand. “I’m OK.” He forced a smile for her, small and fleeting. Whatever forces tore him apart, he was deeply grateful he’d found Sarah. He wondered sometimes…maybe she’d be better off without him…with someone less damaged by the horrors he’d lived. Few people had witnessed the volume of death and destruction that he had, and he was far from certain he’d ever get past it…that he could ever give her the normal peaceful life she deserved.
“Erik…you have to know that Jax would never want you to torture yourself like this.” She knew as she was speaking she should just leave it alone, but she couldn’t bear to see him in such pain. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Cain sighed loudly and sat up on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want to talk about it, Sarah.” His voice was edgy, annoyed. “I’ve got to grab a shower and get down to HQ.” He stood up and walked to the bathroom. He was already feeling bad for snapping at her. He knew she was just trying to help. He loved her, more than he could ever express, but she just didn’t understand. It had been his fault, no matter how many times those close to him tried to deny it. If he’d have listened to Jax, if he’d have sent in the Janissaries sooner…his friend would still be alive. There was no way around the logic, at least not to Cain. He’d just have to learn to live with it. Somehow.
But that was tomorrow’s problem. Now there was work to do. Cain knew the lull wouldn’t last, that Sandoval would become a battlefield…and, more than anyone else, he knew what was coming.
Cain stepped along the narrow catwalk, the loose metal grating on the floor rattling under his heavy boots. The observation tower was 100 meters high, mostly an open metal frame with a central lift and several viewing areas. Cain ordered it built so he could watch the exercises he’d been putting his troops through nonstop for the past year. He knew he could monitor everything from his HQ, but he preferred to see the maneuvers from close up. Things looked different when you saw them with your own eyes, or at least Erik Cain thought so.
“I put a lot of resources into these target drones, sir.” Cain glanced back over his shoulder at General Elias Holm, the Commandant of the Marine Corps. “But I think it’s crucial we see what these new suits can really do.”
Holm was on Sandoval inspecting Cain’s preparations…and checking on his protégé’s state of mind. Truth be told, it was more of the latter. Holm completely trusted Cain’s abilities as a commander, but he was very worried about his friend, about Erik Cain the man. Cain had always been intense and deeply affected by the troops he’d lost, but since General Jax had been killed on Farpoint he’d been different. The entire Corps had mourned Jax, but Cain took it harder; he blamed himself for his friend’s death. Jax had been the only true friend he’d ever had. He was close to Holm, of course, but that was more of a father-son type of relationship. And Sarah was his lover…however strong the bond between them, it was something different entirely. But Jax had been his brother.
“I agree, Erik.” Holm sighed softly. He’d been on Sandoval for a week now, and he hadn’t managed to get Cain to talk about anything but tactics and his preparations for the expected invasion. He was sure Cain would do whatever was necessary to hold Sandoval and defeat the enemy…if that was even possible. But he was worried that Erik placed his own survival on a much lower priority level. He’d seen it before, too many times. When Marines started thinking that way they usually died.
“I’ve set up passive killing zones all over the planet. Minefields, hidden strongpoints, targeted fire zones.” Cain’s intensity was thick in the air. “I’m going to keep all the Obliterators in reserve and unleash them after the enemy fights through the defenses. Like you held us back on Columbia.” He stared out over the open plain that stretched out beneath the tower. There were rows of the massive Obliterator suits, each manned by a veteran Marine who’d spent the last year training to master the new weapons. “These things were made to counter-attack.”
“Erik…” Holm hesitated, not sure he wanted to continue what he was going to say.
“What is it, sir?” Cain turned to face his commander.
“Erik, I’m worried about you.” He decided to stop dancing around and just say what was on his mind. “It’s not your fault Jax died on Farpoint. I know you’ve always had a hard time dealing with casualties…I have too. But we lose people…we lose friends. It’s part of what we do. It’s the life we’ve chosen.”
Cain was silent for a moment. He felt a flush of annoyance, almost anger. He was tired of everyone harassing him about his feelings. He knew damned well it was his fault Jax was killed. If he’d listened, if he’d garrisoned the mountains…if he’d gotten over his stupid prejudices sooner…
“Erik, I talked with Sarah. She’s worried too.” Holm was uncomfortable pushing Cain, but he knew his friend was on some sort of precipice, and he wasn’t sure how to pull him back.
“Sarah should stop worrying. I know she means well, but she’s got to have better things to do.” His voice was thick with frustration. “I keep telling her I’m fine. I wish she’d just leave it alone.” He was still feeling bad about snapping at her that morning, but he wanted her to stop riding him about Jax. He had a job to do, and so did she.
“Erik, she…”
“General Holm, I respectfully request that we focus our attentions on matters of military significance.” Cain had never interrupted Holm before. His voice was sharp, brittle.
“Very well, Erik.” Holm sighed again, though softly. Pushing him harder isn’t going to work, he thought…back off for now. “Let’s see these Obliterator squadrons of yours.” Holm deliberately lightened his tone. “Your reports have me curious.”
Cain turned and looked out over the simulated battlefield. “Hector, advise General Teller he may commence the operation when ready.” He wasn’t wearing armor, but
the AI was downloaded into the tactical mainframe and connected to Cain through the comlink.
“Yes, General.” A brief pause, no more than twenty seconds. “General Cain, General Teller reports he will commence the exercise in two minutes.” Cain’s AI had detected his tension as well, and it had largely ceased the sarcastic sparring the two had engaged in for years.
“Very well, Hector.” Advise General Teller that will be acceptable.” He glanced back to Holm, taking a helmet from a small ledge and handing it to his companion. “You’d better wear this, sir.” As soon as Holm took it, Cain reached back and grabbed one for himself. “And put the visor down, sir. We’ll demo Colonel Sparks’ PBS system too, and that puts out some serious light.”
Cain saw the drones just before Holm did, but it wasn’t a fair contest. He knew where they were coming from, and Holm didn’t. “The drones are simulated First Imperium bots, sir.” They were barely visible shadows at the time, but they were advancing quickly. “Here they come, sir.” He was staring out across the field. “Now watch this.”
Major Erin McDaniels focused on her display. It had taken her quite some time to get used to not having a visor. The Obliterator suits were almost four meters tall, far larger than the occupant, and her face was roughly at chest level. Her view of the outside was via monitors displaying everything visible from her suit – in front, behind, and to the side.
Regular armor was approximately the size of the wearer, and it was worn like a suit. The Marine just walked, ran, jumped, and shot. After getting used to the servo-mechanicals and the power enhancements, it wasn’t very different from just walking around normally…at least not to a trained Marine. There were vision and audio enhancements and interior projection systems, but you could also just look out through your visor and glance around normally. But not in an Obliterator. The new suits felt like a cross between armor and a vehicle, and learning to operate one was almost like starting from scratch.
