Star Crusades Nexus: Book 09 - The Black Rift

by Michael G. Thomas

  “The fleet is ready and awaits your recommendations.”

  Spartan looked to Thayara and back to the machine.

  “We go through and assemble on the other side. I will make a proclamation, a challenge to their citizens. Yield before me, or face atomic destruction.”

  “Why would you do this?” Thayara asked.

  Her tone was flat, but the words cut deep. Spartan knew she would try to undermine him, to prove her way was best. Spartan was having none of it, though.

  “I will sow the seeds of doubt and terror in their hearts. Some will fight, others will argue, and the rest will cower. My proclamation will spread to every world and remind them that man and machine are now one. I know their dispositions, their strengths…”

  He then looked back to Thayara.

  “And their weaknesses.”

  The Rift flashed once and then changed into what looked like a reflective pool.

  “Spartan, the Spacebridge is open and stable. Are you ready?” asked the machine.

  Spartan crashed his fists together.

  “Hell, yes. Send them through. The invasion begins now!”

  Thayara turned to walk away, and Spartan reached for her shoulder. She avoided him and twisted around in a position that would have made a normal person fall onto their back.

  “”What is it, Spartan?”

  “Prepare the assault team.”

  One-Zero-One looked to the projection of the Rift and then to Spartan.

  “Assault? I thought you intended on striking their ships and then making for the Helion homeworld. Have you changed your mind already?”

  Spartan sighed.

  “My plan will change as I see fit. Will you be second-guessing me at every stage? My skills and knowledge will win this fight, but not if you doubt me.”

  The machine waited and then spoke.

  “You have proven yourself in the trials. It is time for you to face your kin. We are ready.”

  “Then take us in.”

  Spartan could see no officers to direct, just the great projection showing all of the space around the ship. There was no way to tell through touch, but he could already see they were making their way to the Black Rift. One of the massive Rift Engines pushed deep inside the entrance, and half of the vessels immediately vanished. Two-dozen Biomantas followed next, and then it was their turn. The mighty battleship Retribution pushed through the Rift, and then with a single flash, they were in a completely different part of space.

  Now fight! said the voice.

  The view of the Helios System was anything but impressive. At this distance from the star, they would take weeks to get anywhere. Spartan moved his eyes and watched as ship after ship appeared on the model. There was a modest number of Helion and Alliance ships, but nothing close to a fleet. One-Zero-One highlighted them all before speaking.

  “The enemy has deployed a small group of ships to defend the Great Seal. What are your orders?”

  Spartan took a step closer to the ledge and looked down at his warriors.

  “Spartan?”

  Again he closed his eyes and blocked out every sound and sensation. Inside the armor he could choose what he wanted to feel, and right now that was nothing at all. He had the image of the Black Rift on both sides in his mind, as well as the massive fleet of almost inconceivable numbers. Hundreds upon hundreds of ships, thousands of warriors and battleships that were more than the equal of anything the Alliance could muster. He could visualize the six battleships, each bristling with nearly a hundred Ghost Warriors, and every one of them under his command.

  I can send them anywhere, or send them nowhere.

  His previous simulations shifted behind his eyes, battles with the Helions, Khreenk, and the Alliance. Space battles, land battles, sieges, and raids. He had tried them all, but there was just one thing he knew had to be done here.

  I have to fight with such terror that the war will stop before it starts. I will protect lives on all sides by making this painless.

  His mouth curved into a cruel smile as images of those that had wronged him sprung to mind. It wasn’t something he’d intended, and yet they came to him, one at a time. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at Thayara and One-Zero-One who had both moved in front of him.

  “What wrong with him?” Thayara asked, “Should I take command?”

  Spartan reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “No. Rejoin the warriors and prepare a boarding party.”

  She tried to struggle free, but Spartan kept a firm grasp of her armored limb.

  “Look at the ships. This is not the fleet we need to defeat. It is not even a fleet that should concern us.”

  One-Zero-One extended one of his mechanical limbs to the projection.

  “Yours orders, Spartan?”

  “Bring in the rest of the fleet and assemble in battle array right here. I want three hundred ships and our assault force deployed out in front of the Rift. We are not scared of any of these enemies. We are not even concerned. Deploy ready, but do not open gun ports or any other action that looks like we are waiting to attack.”

  He nodded to himself with amusement.

  “Let them sweat and debate. Are we here to negotiate, surrender, or fight? Trust me, very soon they will know.”

  Spartan pointed at the area of open space nearly fifty thousand kilometers from the Black Rift. He could sense the machine already doubted him, and now his own impatience was beginning to rise.

  “Put me on an open channel. It is time for my announcement.”

  * * *

  ANS Warlord, Micaya Shipyards, Helios Sector

  Admiral Anderson watched the slowly moving formations of ships inching closer the closer. His own battleship was now directly in front of a Cephalon command ship, and they exchanged gunfire like two great warships of old. The great battle wasn’t what concerned him; instead his attention was on the vast shape of the Ark. Even his own ship would be no match for its power.

  Not much longer.

  The counter to the right showed the number of seconds until he could begin the next phase of the battle. The timing was critical for so many reasons. Admiral Lewis’ ships would require enough time to power up, and the engineering vessel would need its own window to be able to power its systems. At the same time, the enemy fleet needed to be fully committed to battle with the ships already invested in the fight. Lastly, the Ark had to be on a course that was irreversible.

  I wait too long, and they could reach our hidden ships. Too early, and the Ark will change course and head for the heart of the shipyards. This must be done to the damned second!

  The numbers were moving slowly, but no matter what was happening out in space, he could see there was less than a minute to go. The nearer it came to that final moment, the faster time seemed to move.

  “Sir, two more Cephalons are closing in on our position,” said Captain Decker.

  “Good, that’s what we need.”

  He moved his hands about the tactical display and selected two squadrons of Crusaders and a pair of battlecruisers. The Cephalons were escorted by a similar number of their own heavy warships.

  “Focus fire from all allocated squadrons.”

  The Alliance ships were already close by and quickly moved into the requested formations. There was a large amount of space between each vessel, and they presented their bows toward the approaching ships.

  “Sir, shouldn’t we hit the Cephalons first?” asked the Captain.

  Admiral Anderson shook his head.

  “No. We will deal with this situation using good old ratios and mathematics. I want their numbers reduced to increase out combat potential. The Biomantas go first, then the Ravagers.”

  “And the Cephalons?”

  Admiral Anderson smiled at the question.

  “If we’ve destroyed everything else, then I’m sure we can deal with the last of them.”

  A buzzing sound reminded him that the timer had run down. He reached for the ancient lookin
g intercom and pulled it to his mouth.

  “Phoenix is a go! Light the fires.”

  He replaced the device and looked to his crew.

  “Give me every ounce of firepower we have remaining, and let’s burn some ships!”

  The formation of ships moved straight at the Cephalons, but when they opened fire, it was the two nearest Biomantas that took the brunt. Particle beams exploded entire sections of the ships, but it was the massed volleys of railguns that tore them to shreds. No sooner had one been destroyed, and another would start getting pummeled by projectiles.

  Beautiful, he thought.

  Both fleets moved close enough; they effectively merged into a single massive group with ships at different positions and angles. Even in such chaos, the Alliance ships continued to focus their fire on one ship at a time. It was a technique he’d seen the enemy use before, and in such messy situations it made tactical choices much easier. It wasn’t perfect, however, and the Biomechs were already changing their positions to aim at different targets. He watched as multiple groups split off and made for different sections of his fleet.

  “ANS Samson is gone!” said Captain Decker, “And Agincourt has lost main power.”

  The images on the mainscreen showed three Ravagers moving about the Crusader class ship and hitting the vessel from different sides. The firepower from the much larger enemy ships was superior, and between them they made short work of the vessel. The bow had been torn off, and flames licked through her hull from the innumerable mortal wounds. Anderson looked to the tactical display and how the enemy was changing their attack pattern.

  They are working in groups of three, each of them targeting one of our own. This is going to get bloody.

  “Sir, shall we assist them?”

  Admiral Anderson swallowed. This was the part of combat he hated the most, where he was forced to make decisions that left his own people, damned good people to die. He could split his fire to help the wounded escape, but that would effectively create more deaths by giving the Biomechs more ships and time to fight.

  “No. They will have to manage for now. Get a squadron of Hammerheads out there to assist. Keep hitting the selected targets. This is a war of attrition. Keep at it, and one by one we’ll wipe out this damned fleet.”

  The great ship shuddered, and for the first time the breach alerts sounded. Admiral Anderson looked at the damage display. An entire section the size of a Mauler had vanished from the port stern.

  “What happened?”

  Captain Decker barked orders to the engineering team before turning to him.

  “Triple volley of atomics, Admiral. They must have entered through a breach in the space armor. It could have been a lot worse.”

  * * *

  ANS Conqueror, Micaya Shipyards, Helios Sector

  A grinding sound reverberated throughout the entire ship as they pushed themselves out from their hiding place. At the same time, the rest of Admiral Lewis’ fleet activated their engines and advanced from where they had been waiting. Dozens and dozens of Alliance warships emerged like ghosts from the very heart of a graveyard.

  “All ships focus your fire on any Biomech ship targeting friendlies. Hit them hard, and don’t stop till they are all burning.”

  He looked over his own tactical display, just as so many Alliance commanders were doing at that very moment.

  Where is he?

  His hand moved and then stopped at the gray shapes.

  General Makos. You had better be ready for this.

  There was no need for him to micromanage the alien and his own retinue. The plan was prearranged, and already his force of beautiful looking Dragonfly vessels were extending their solar sails and opening their gun ports. Three of them flashed green, and a volley of spheres blasted out and into the path of an unsuspecting Biomanta. The impacts tore through the hull and left a burned out husk spinning uselessly.

  And the others?

  There were contingents from the Helions under the command of T’Kron, as well as the small force from the Klithi. Just as intended, the aliens were staying together and moving back to the burning shipyards to engage the scattered Biomech ships not currently involved in the colossal capital ship battle with Admiral Anderson and ANS Warlord.

  His first view of a pair of Klithi traveler ships reminded him of deep-sea creatures from Earth. Like the Byotai, their craft looked heavily inspired by vessels of the deep ocean, though whereas the Byotai were large and complex with great wings and masts, the Klithi were more like whales. The alien ships moved much faster from their hiding places and were quickly beset by large numbers of fighters. At the same time, the gantries throughout the shipyards continued to break apart and burn. Two Biomantas trapped a single Crusader, and as they tried to eliminate the vessel, the Dragonflies too struck them. Energy blasts ripped them apart, leaving multiple sections crackling with energy.

  “Sir, we have a Ravager bearing down on us. Our capacitors have failed. The main guns are…”

  He scratched at his head while yelling.

  “What the hell do you mean our primary guns are offline?”

  The ship vibrated heavily as a double burst of gunfire clattered amongst the wreckage. The Battlecruiser had been safely nestling between two defunct Helion cruisers, but even that extra layer of protection was proving useless against the swarm of Biomech fighters and the single Ravager moving in on them. The ship moved out of the wreckage one meter at a time, and with a great, painful grinding sound that could be felt through the hard material of the ship.

  “Sir, the capacitors are refusing to take the charge. I need to purge the system and do a full restart sequence. It must be the long exposure to the cold.”

  Admiral Lewis couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The system should work in a near sub-zero environment, but now wasn’t the time to argue about the science of the problem.

  “And how long will that take?”

  “Six minutes, maybe seven.”

  “Then do it, and get my guns online fast or we’ll be dead.”

  He then looked to his XO.

  “Get us into the fight. I don’t care if we have to ram them. We need to hit them and hit them hard. If we don’t, we’ll be leaving Anderson to do all the heavy lifting.”

  “Yes, Sir,” said Captain Marcus.

  The engines detonated with a rumble, and they were out of the debris and moving toward the enemy ships. Five Liberty destroyers joined them, and more and more of his fleet emerged from their slumber.

  “Sir!” said Lieutenant Vitelli, “The Ravager is changing course. It’s General Makos.”

  He nodded, and the mainscreen changed to show the battle around the Ravager. It wasn’t just that ship; there were eleven capital ships and hundreds of fighters, all of which had been heading directly toward him. Now they were changing course to meet the General head on.

  “What are those?”

  He pointed at spherical objects hurtling toward the Biomech fleet. There were hundreds of them, and they were moving at incredible speeds in a straight line. Every few seconds one would vanish, but plenty made it within range of the enemy.

  Lieutenant Vitelli smiled when six of them changed course at the last moment and accelerated right into the engine vent of an already damaged Ravager. The right-hand side of the ship tore off in a massive blast and was quickly followed by many more.

  “Klithi mines, Sir. They are self-homing and very powerful.”

  The expression of excitement on the tactical officer’s face quickly faded; the very blood seemed to run from his skin to leave him pale and nervous.

  “No. No way, they can’t be.”

  “What is it?” asked the Admiral.

  “The ships, they are all changing course, every single one of them. Even the Ark is using its engines to make a course correction.”

  “To where?”

  The young officer simply pointed at the single most important ship in the entire fleet.

  “ANS Explorer, Sir, they m
ust have detected her energy signature.”

  He looked for and then grabbed his intercom.

  “All ships, they’re making for Explorer. The protection of this ship is the only consideration. Protect the ship! All other assets are expendable. Put up a screen around her.”

  The next four minutes were the most tense and violent minutes in Admiral Lewis’ life. All the Alliance ships were on an intercept course; the majority forming up in a layer defensive wall less than a hundred kilometers from the ship. Hundreds and hundreds of fighters, Maulers, and drones plugged the gaps, and more arrived by the minute. At the same time, the engineering vessel continued its mighty energy buildup.

  * * *

  ANS Tempest, Micaya Shipyards, Helios Sector

  They flew along the length of the Alliance engineering vessel and checked for signs of the enemy. Five more Maulers followed in a wide wedge formation; all that remained of the original eight. Every one of them now bore new scars from the fighting, from small bullet holes created by point-defense turrets through to the meter-wide hole in the flank of ANS Tornado caused by a thermite missile.

  “Turn to my vector and begin tracking,” said Captain Garcia.

  The small group twisted about and faced in the direction of the massive skirmish screen. Out ahead were hundreds of flashes from the Alliance and Biomech fleets fighting at close range. It was impossible to tell who was winning; both sides had now moved from a tactical approach to the battle and on to a high-scale dogfight, with the ships fighting whomever was closest. All Captain Garcia cared about was his new mission.

  “Okay, all units form up on the bow of the Liberty ships.”