Star Crusades Nexus: Book 09 - The Black Rift

by Michael G. Thomas

  The machine stopped and then looked back to him. It clearly had not intended to go any further with its explanation. There was a short pause, and Spartan immediately regretted asking the question. The machine hissed and continued to speak.

  “First you must be victorious.”

  Spartan walked up to the ledge and looked down at the columns of Ghost Warriors. Dozens of armored machines twisted and shifted a little to look up at him. He lifted his hands up high, and they did the same, each joining him in a simple gesture of solidarity. Spartan found he was smiling as he watched them almost cheering him on.

  Do not worry, my friend, I always am.

  He turned around to face his two comrades.

  “Prepare the Rift Engine. It’s time to start this thing.”

  “And the fleet?”

  Spartan looked up at the model of the Helios System.

  “This is what we’re going to do.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Spartan is a name none will ever forget. His name was taken from that ancient Laconian race now almost unknown. His family background was known to few, and the events of his childhood known to even fewer. The culmination of all these experiences was to create an independent warrior, a man that would do whatever it took to get the job done. No one could disagree that every decision Spartan made was for the greater good, the only question that remained was whether that included the people directly affected. Terra Nova is often cited as one example of his savagery, but this moved to an entirely higher level at the Black Rift.

  The Rise of Spartan

  ANS Warlord, Micaya Shipyards, Helios Sector

  The Grand Alliance, as the media was now dubbing it, stretched out in a massed formation. This great fleet of Byotai, Khreenk, and Alliance vessels watched and waited, their gun ports open and fighter squadrons flying patrols. They were less than eighty thousand kilometres from the great Helion shipyards that had supplied the fleet for centuries. The main Micaya Shipyards were actually a massive artificial series of structures positioned over a million kilometres from Micaya, and a hundred times that distance from the Helion primary star. This position was known to humans as a Lagrangian point, an area in space where combined gravitational pull of two large bodies such as Micaya and its star provide exactly the centripetal force required to orbit with them.

  Impressive, very impressive, thought Admiral Anderson.

  In reality, the site might easily have been mistaken for an artificial moon by anybody unfamiliar with the sector, but the Helions had chosen well for its use. The orbital configuration made transportation and communication easy while keeping dangerous supplies and potentially faulty vessels out of harm’s way. Even if a ship were to suffer a catastrophic reactor breach and exploded, there would be little chance of the debris coming anywhere near the planet. It was as useful as it was elegant.

  Admiral Anderson’s officers had returned to their own contingents, with General Makos returning to his own fleet, while Admiral Lewis rejoined the battered remnants of the force that had relieved Helios Prime. There was a stark different between the ships that had been out here fighting bloody battles for weeks and months and his own. The fresh vessels that had come through the T’Karan Rift were a mixture of seasoned combatants from the fighting at Prometheus and newly launched ships from the shipyards of the Alliance. Unlike in previous battles, he was not spreading out his forces, or making any particularly complicated plans. He had just a single trump card, and he was keeping it at the shipyards.

  This is going to be the simplest and the bloodiest battle in the history of our Navy.

  He looked out at the mainscreen and the icons that signified the combined Biomech forces in the Helios Sector.

  “Tactical, give me a full analysis of what’s out there.”

  He already knew what was there, but that wasn’t enough, he wanted to hear the words from somebody else.

  “Admiral, the first wave will clear Micaya into our direct line of sight within seventeen minutes. Total strength is one Ark, codenamed Beelzebub and…”

  The man swallowed and tried again.

  “Just under three-hundred enemy capital ships in total, Sir. They must have sent everything here.”

  Anderson looked at the imagery, but none of it seemed to faze him.

  “Tell me about their configurations and deployment.”

  The man swallowed again and then began to point out the various forces.

  “They have one hundred and seventeen Biomanta warships plus seventy-one Ravager class vessels. They are surrounding this force with some kind of high-power jamming equipment that is stopping us performing deep scans.”

  He moved his hands as he made a few configuration changes.

  “Their deployment is almost non-existent, Sir. The best way I can describe it is as a large box formation. The Ark is toward the rear and centered between a large formation of Biomantas.”

  “How about command ships?”

  “Three Cephalon vessels, and they are moving directly behind the Ark.”

  “And the status of the Ark?”

  He pressed on the screen, and the imagery shifted to concentrate on just the slightly blurred image of the Ark. It was truly massive, and even he felt a slight shudder in his stomach.

  “The Ark has already opened up and released warships. They’re learning, Sir.”

  Admiral Anderson raised an eyebrow to this suggestion.

  Perhaps, but are they learning the right thing? This must look like a desperate last stand for Micaya.

  He rubbed his hands together.

  Good. That’s exactly what I want them to think.

  “And our disposition matches my plan?”

  The man brought up a flattened two-dimensional view of the shipyards.

  “We have deployed our lines at the eighty-thousand kilometer marker. At this position, they will see our ships ninety seconds before spotting the shipyards.”

  The overhead imagery confirmed that, although from the dispositions, it looked as though a large number of the ships were in queues to dock at the shipyard.

  “Good, and T’Kron has activated the ships on the lower gantries of the shipyard?”

  “Yes, Sir, I am detecting over a hundred powerplants active on the site.”

  “Excellent. So we are ready, then?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  The tactical officer moved back to his duties, and Admiral Anderson looked to the mainscreen. It was a massive fleet, there was no doubt in his mind about that, but his own forces were equally impressive. By stripping ships from Helios Prime and Spascia, his own fleet had increased in just twenty-four hours to a size he had not thought possible. T’Kron had also managed more than he’d expected on this special mission. He looked at the figures and found a smile forming. The alien had somehow managed to bring an extra twenty-two Helion ships in various states of repair. There was something else that he’d done though, and even he had been surprised. T’Kron had activated more than a hundred wrecked, decommissioned, or partially scrapped ships.

  That is one hell of a diversion.

  He scanned through the myriad of vessels, and it took a moment to find the one operational ship anywhere near them. With so much debris, scrap, and wreckage at the place, he had to rely on the secret IFF signature. He’d done everything possible to ensure ANS Explorer would remain undetected amongst the pylons, gantries, habitation blocks, and hundreds of decommissioned ships.

  “Get a message to Explorer. She needs to get her IFF switched off and fast.”

  The tactical officer confirmed and then sent the appropriate message. In seconds the transmission stopped, and the large Alliance vessel vanished into the clutter. Admiral Anderson looked at the large clock he’d had positioned above the tactical display. It now read just six minutes. He felt completely alone on board the ship, even though he was surrounded by some of the best men and women in the fleet. All the crew of his age and experience were off leading the other cont
ingents. He leaned toward the tactical display and activated the command module. The hazed shapes of the Byotai and Alliance commanders moved into view.

  “Admiral,” they said at the same time.

  “Your ships are ready?”

  They nodded, but Admiral Lewis spoke first.

  “I must apologize for our last meeting. I’ve seen the reports from Helios Prime. Our forces are holding and digging in. You and General Rivers were right. They are settling in and waiting this one out. There’s no rush to finish that fight.”

  Anderson nodded quickly.

  “Understood. We have just a few minutes remaining. Is there anything I need to know?”

  General Makos grunted and then began to speak.

  “We are powered down, and the empty cargo containers are in position. I will need ninety seconds to get my vessels into action.”

  He then looked to Admiral Lewis.

  “And your own vessels?”

  “At their moorings on the other side of the shipyards. It will take us less than a minute to power up. I’ve positioned the shipping containers as written in the plan.”

  “Understood,” replied Admiral Anderson.

  He looked back to the overview.

  “The important thing is that we give the right impression. As far as the Biomechs are concerned, we know they’re coming. They have accelerated though, and we need to let them think we are desperately short of men and ships.”

  Admiral Lewis nodded quickly in agreement.

  “If I was approaching this, the first impression I would get is total pandemonium. We have two-thirds of our fleet around the shipyards undergoing repair and replenishment. Then we have the rest of our ships arriving in groups from Micaya in convoys. The defense force is just the first division of my own vessels.”

  Admiral Lewis selected his own ships on the perimeter of the shipyards.

  “So when they arrive, what will they do? Will they hit your ships, or the shipyards?”

  Anderson shook his head.

  “It won’t matter. T’Kron has managed to activate a large Helion contingent along this section of the facility. We have more than a hundred ships in an area nearly five thousand cubic kilometers. A quick scan will show they are cold and powering up. That has to be the target.”

  He swallowed and then pointed to his own forces centered on his battleship.

  “I will withdrawal from the field when they arrive. They will pursue, and if the plan works, they will hit the shipyards with everything they have. A partially powered ship is an easy kill.”

  He stopped speaking and looked to his two commanders.

  “In less than an hour, the battle for Micaya will be over, and I intend on finishing them, completely. No weapon is off the table, so make sure the safeties are off on your atomics. It’s time to take the gloves off, Gentlemen.”

  * * *

  ANS Tempest, Micaya Shipyards, Helios Sector

  Captain Garcia checked the display for what must have been the tenth time in the last hour. Every single indicator said the vessel was operating in top condition, but that wasn’t enough for him.

  “Sir, I think she’s ready for the fight,” said Lieutenant Takeda.

  He looked to his pilot and shook his head.

  “The ship might be, but not me.”

  He looked up to the narrow windows and out into the blackness of space. Indicators in front of them marked out the hundreds of allied vessels as well as the projected position for the enemy.

  “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  Lieutenant Takeda shrugged.

  “The last few fights have been pretty...well, pretty spectacular.”

  “No, I mean the fleet. Just look at them.”

  He nodded in the direction of the nearest vessels. There were entire formations of Crusaders, the first of the new generation of warship and now the standard ship of the line. Mixed between formations were multiple Liberty variants, with them easily outnumbering their larger cousins. Even bigger again were the seven battlecruisers, each one configured to a special task. ANS Ticonderoga had been General Rivers’ command ship, and now it functioned as a fleet control and aviation vessel. Captain Vetlaya’s ship, ANS Dreadnought, on the other hand, had been fully outfitted as a heavy battleship.

  “I never thought I would see so many battlecruisers in the same fleet; apart from a few transports, and those Anderson left at the Black Rift, they are all here. This is one of those moments we’ll look back on.”

  He moved just a fraction so that he could look to the center of the fleet. This was out of the view of the front windows, and he was forced to swivel about to look through the smaller starboard window. Right there, in the middle was the heavily marked and damaged hull of ANS Conqueror. The tired looking ship had been the command vessel for the entire Helios Prime operation and now had an official tally of six enemy warship kills.

  “Incredible,” said Captain Garcia.

  He was now looking above the large Battlecruiser and toward the massive hull of ANS Warlord. It was an ugly looking ship, one that made even the Crusaders looked attractive.

  “That has to be one of the worst looking ships I’ve ever seen.”

  Both of them looked at the double-hulled battleship.

  “I saw the specifications for her. It’s like they grabbed two hulks and welded them together,” said Takeda.

  “Well, that’s pretty much exactly what they did. From what I heard, there were three ships being outfitted in T’Karan when the Admiral arrived to supervise construction. Apparently, there were problems with the powerplants of two of them. They units had come directly from Terra Nova and were underperforming, but the real problem was crew. He had only enough to crew one of the ships.”

  Lieutenant Takeda shook her head in amazement.

  “So he ordered that two of them be joined together?”

  Captain Garcia shrugged.

  “Hell, that’s just what I heard. There was another rumor that he had the thing built as a terror weapon, one that he could use to get Terra Nova in line.”

  Neither was particularly sure which, if any of the stories were true. Instead, they simply looked on at the vast, dark shape of the bastardized vessel. Its ugliness only served to increase its intimidation factor.

  “Beta Cruiser squadron. You are cleared for docking on arms six through fifteen. It’s your turn for replenishment,” said the voice from the shipyard’s open channel.

  Both of the officers looked at each other as though they had just heard the greatest ever secret. Exactly on cue, the squadron of six cruisers peeled away from the primary fleet and headed toward the designated points at the sprawling complex.

  “I heard that when this place was built, there was enough space for over a million personnel and four thousand active military and civilian ships. It was said that you could see the facility from the surface of Micaya.”

  Captain Garcia rubbed his forehead.

  “I doubt we’ll ever see something like this again. Ships from multiple species, all working together against a common enemy.”

  He nodded in the direction of ANS Warlord.

  “Drink in that view, Lieutenant. It will stay with you for the rest of your life.”

  To his surprise, his pilot almost laughed at his comment.

  “Yeah, okay, Sir,” said Lieutenant Takeda.

  She noticed the confused look from her superior and regretted her automatic response. Even so, she could hardly leave it like that, and therefore felt obligated to say something more.

  “You’re making a big assumption there, Sir.”

  “Which is?”

  She smiled at him. “Well, we have to live to be able to look back on this moment.”

  Captain Garcia laughed.

  “Even in death, we can look back at this. It is still something we can look forward to.”

  The younger officer shook her head in disagreement.

  “You don’t believe that religious mumbo jumbo, do you, Sir?�
��

  She tried to sound coy, but the offended look on her Captain’s face confirmed that she had gone too far for him.

  “Maybe I do. My family comes from a long line of Neo-Christians from the Kerberos colonies. I assume you believe in nothing, Lieutenant?”

  She was worried for a second, but there was a slightly playful look to his face. She just hoped it was all tongue in cheek, but Takeda could tell she’d managed to say the wrong thing, at the exact wrong moment. She didn’t want to say anything, but then she remembered the number of times in the past when she’d let such comments slide. Even after hundreds of years living in a secular society, there were still as many religions on the colonies as before.

  “On the contrary, Sir, I believe in far more than any religious person might.”

  The Captain appeared fascinated.

  “Please do continue. I was under the assumption that the secular had no belief?”

  She shook her head in irritation.

  “Really, do we have time for this?”

  He creased his brow in a mocking gesture.

  “If you’re an unbeliever, and this really is our last mission, then it’s my duty to prepare you for what is to come. To make sure you’re ready for life after death. How can you be ready for the end of your life if you believe there is nothing more when you go?”

  She laughed, finally seeing he was doing no more than trying to goad her.

  “I’m not interested in preparing for life after death, or as I like to call it, death. I am much more interested in planning for my life because I’ve only got one.”

  Now Captain Garcia appeared genuinely happy.

  “Exactly. There is nothing I find more offensive than the idea that somebody without belief in a deity can have anything to die for. After all, they are saying they will have no afterlife. That must be terrifying.”

  “Yes, Sir, and that’s why we have to do everything we can to enjoy what we have. Just like this enemy fleet coming for us. We have one chance, and if we fail, well, that will be it, Sir. You will never find a more motivated person than one that doesn’t believe in fairy tales.”