Machine Gods (Star Crusades Nexus, Book 2)

by Michael G. Thomas

Chatter from the other teams showed a very different situation. The status indicators on Spartan’s suit allowed him to monitor each of them in terms of heart rate, blood pressure, and even their suit’s supplies. Two of the other teams had run directly into crew, and it looked like they were in the middle of a firefight.

  “Spartan, aft section is secure, one hostile down and seven prisoners.”

  He nodded to himself.

  “Good work, keep moving. We need the commander.”

  He recalled the dossiers he’d read that had been compiled by the best people in Alliance Intelligence. Apparently, the data had come directly from the T’Kari, but Spartan doubted some of that. The information was sparse and had mainly consisted of lists of previous targets, along with some of the combat procedures used. Spartan could have obtained better information himself, but with the changes in procedure, he was finding access to people becoming more and more difficult. What he did know was that the leader of this vessel was apparently responsible for raiding T’Kari colonies for the best part of last decade. He was one of the former commanders of the T’Kari Scouts, an elite team that patrolled throughout the New Charon Star System to watch for signs of their enemies. Lovett watched him thinking and was forced to tilt his head toward the door and potential hostiles on the other side.

  Get your mind on the job, you fool!

  He almost kicked himself for letting his mind drift at such an important point. He looked back to those around him and checked they were ready. They waited for his signal. Isamu had already placed charges on the inner door.

  “Assault pattern alpha,” he stated firmly and moved off to the left.

  Isamu triggered the charge, and this time the metal blew out toward them. It instantly told them that this part of the ship was pressurized. Spartan was already through, and as he stepped in, he triggered his suit’s built-in entry-assault module. It was specially designed by the APS Corporation for such operations. A dozen small charges were launched from units fitted to his shoulders. They exploded just three meters away with a roar and a bright flash. Spartan’s visor automatically blackened for a brief moment and then returned to normal. It was a large rectangular room with racks on the walls for equipment and weapons. A number of computer displays covered the left wall. A raised platform to the right was topped off with a smashed helmet. The ceiling and walls were deeply ribbed, much like the exterior of the ship.

  “Spartan, watch out!” cried Lovett.

  He lifted his weapon and counted the enemy quickly before taking aim. There were six T’Kari Raiders in dark armor, with their bug-like helmets and close fitting metal plates. The shock charges had scattered them, yet they were already bringing their weapons to bear.

  “Now!”

  Spartan took aim, but Khan opened fire first. The burst of mag rounds from the Jötnar’s L52 carbine hit the nearest two and sent then spinning into the corridor behind them. Spartan took aim at the third, but its hands were already raised, and the rest seemed to give up in seconds.

  What’s going on in here?

  Spartan moved ahead, and the team secured their prisoners. He looked at the corridor behind the room and took a few steps before stopping. The reports on his helmet showed no casualties with his team, but there was something else inside. It showed up as a large target, approximately five rooms from their current position. He looked back to his team.

  “Three of you stay with Lovett. Don’t let them leave!”

  He then looked to Khan.

  “The rest of you with me, quickly!”

  He placed one foot in front of the other and let the automatic mag seals do their work as he stomped out of the room and into the innards of the ship. The other operatives were covering similar ground, and all making their way to the same objective. Isamu and Porter watched the flanks; Spartan and Khan took the middle ground. They moved through to the next batch of darkened rooms, finding nothing but empty space. There were no computers, storage containers, or even people; and that made each of them nervous. Of them all, Spartan was starting to feel the coldness of his nerves.

  Where is everybody? This ship can’t just be full of empty space.

  Spartan paused for a moment, his suspicions now raised. The ship was large, easily bigger than a frigate and should contain a crew of at least a hundred, possibly more.

  Surely they aren’t all on the crippled vessel.

  Khan stopped next to him and looked confused.

  “Problem?”

  Spartan shrugged.

  “I don’t know. I’ve got a feeling. Something isn’t right.”

  Khan moved his head very slowly in agreement.

  “I agree. Where are the guards?”

  The radio exploded into noise as the leaders of two of the teams cried out for help.

  “Spartan, there’s something in here. We need to...”

  His voice changed to screams of pain, and the occasional gunshot rattled out in the background. Spartan listened to the sounds and voices as carefully as he could. It was messy, but he could just about make out the sound of people and weapons. Khan listened to the same in his suit before looking directly into Spartan’s eyes.

  “Biomechs!” he said with nothing but venom in his voice.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Helios Rebellion would test the strength of the smaller, but more powerful Alliance Navy in ways that had never been expected. In the past, the mixture of vessels had left them limited in ability to respond to crisis. Now her fleets of warships, escorts, and fighters would once again be responsible for shipping marines to the frontline. This time, however, it would not be to help secure Alliance territory. The Helios Rebellion would be the first time humankind put military forces onto an alien world. It would not be the last.

  Naval Cadet’s Handbook

  The Biomechs were first encountered in large numbers during the fighting on Prime. They had surged from the infamous Bone Mill and became the catalyst that turned the insurgency into a full-blown war. Until that moment, the fighting had consisted of just the mysterious movement known only as the Zealots. Once the Biomechs were revealed, the war turned around into a full-scale uprising, with entire worlds turning to one side or the other. The horrifying creature that stood in front of Spartan looked like the first generation of warrior that had crawled from out of the Bone Mill. He lifted his L52 Mark II carbine, and the memories of those first encounters flashed before his eyes as if they were only the day before. He remembered the smell and the sound of them as he fought them across spacecraft and colonies throughout the old Confederacy. These creatures were the size of a pack animal, had four legs, and mutilated bodies. The ones at the start of the War had been constructed from donor organs, tissue, and brain; this one looked no different.

  “Protect him!” shouted Khan.

  The small group of armored fighters pulled ahead to help defend Spartan. Even so, the creature moved quickly like a gruesome spider. With no discernible gravity aboard the ship, the speed of the operatives was greatly reduced. The Biomech creatures, on the other hand, were able to use the ceilings and walls with ease, grasping with their four limbs and grabbing and pulling at any uneven objects to give them mobility.

  “Forget me, just open fire!” barked Spartan.

  He opened fire with his carbine, sending each of the mag rounds deeply into the center of the monstrous thing. The coilgun was the standard issue weapon in the Marine Corps, and used magnetism to super accelerate projectiles without the need for propellant. It was triple-barreled and capable of a rapid-fire mode, whereby it used each of the barrels one at a time to launch the rounds. When needed, it could also use ultra high power single shots. By default, Spartan retained the rapid-fire setting that could cut a man in half at short to medium distances. The other operatives opened fire just in time for two more of the creatures to appear. Both pushed off from the wall, drifting at speed toward the ground, and although rounds slammed into them, their momentum kept them going. They crashed directly into Spartan and Khan
and sent the four as a spinning mass of guns, limbs, and blood. Emergency seals clamped down behind them to contain the atmosphere that was quickly escaping from the damage to the ship.

  “What the hell is going on?” shouted Spartan, more to himself than the others.

  He spun about wildly and crashed into the back wall. The weight of the Biomech was immense, and if it hadn’t been for the reinforced torso of his PDS suit, he would have been crushed to death by the impact. One of the Biomech’s arms flailed out and knocked his carbine from his hands.

  Bastard!

  Spartan was used to this kind of messy close-up combat and so tugged the M11 tactical bayonet from its sheath. The precision-made high carbon steel weapon was perfectly built for the Marine Corps. It was one of the few pieces of equipment he’d been allowed to keep after leaving. Though simple in its design, it was constructed to be capable of functioning without breakage in operating temperatures of -25 to 135 degrees Fahrenheit. With the skills he’d learnt back well before being a marine, he stabbed the weapon repeatedly into the Biomech’s neck. Most amateurs would have used the edge of the blade, but he knew the power of this weapon lay in precise and powerful strikes with the tip. Each stab embedded the blade deep into the thing and sent spurts and blobs of blood pumping from its flesh.

  “Spartan, there are more!” shouted Khan.

  At the same time, Khan snapped the creature’s neck that lay just a few centimeters in front of his face and threw his spare carbine from his armored suit to Spartan. It drifted and almost missed, but a last minute grab by one of his other operatives caught it and spun it back around to Spartan. He pulled back the slide and took careful aim. It was only a low-powered sidearm but did carry a substantial twenty-round magazine with reinforced tip ‘castles’ ammunition. The final creature pulled itself toward them, but this time they were all ready. The volley of gunfire tore holes out of the enemy as it moved lifelessly toward them. They moved off to the sides where they could be certain of keeping their flanks protected, and then pushed on.

  “All units secure your positions. This ship is infested with Biomechs, I repeat; this ship is infested with Biomech creatures. They are hostile and will attack you on sight. Stand your ground and prepare for assault. You have full clearance to use your weapons.”

  The confirmations from the two other squads still in contact quickly acknowledged his order. Spartan knew full well that wandering about in such an infestation could quickly result in the loss of every single one of his operatives. He’d seen it so many times before where teams of soldiers or marines had been trapped or surrounded by the creatures. In a confined space, they had a massive advantage where their strength, speed, and ability to sustain terrible wounds were more useful than long-range firepower. Of all the men and women in the Alliance, Spartan was probably the single most experienced and successful fighter of the Biomechs.

  “Spartan, we’re getting readings from deeper inside the ship. I’d say the Biomechs are here to protect something. I also have three signals falling back to this part of the ship.”

  Spartan looked to Khan. The Biomechs falling back was something unfamiliar to him. In previous battles, the Biomechs had simply pushed on repeatedly until they had achieved total victory. By withdrawing, they were allowing a level of tactical skill and awareness that hadn’t been seen before.

  “Maybe there is something a little more interesting than these bastardized creatures on this ship?”

  He stamped his heavy magnetized boot onto the skull of the nearest dead Biomech, as if to emphasize his anger. It crunched through the creature, leaving broken flesh and bone on the bulkhead. Even though he wore a fully sealed suit, his face was easy to see, and he was angry, very angry. As he looked down, he seemed to pause, fascinated by the grisly destruction on the ground.

  “Khan, do these look familiar?” he asked bitterly.

  Khan was already picking through the remains before casting them aside. He nodded at Spartan.

  “Yeah, they are similar to the beasts we still hunt on Hyperion, same bone structure and muscle placement; no way are these synthetics. They’ve been butchered, just like our creatures.”

  Spartan looked as if he was waiting for something different. Khan looked back at the skull and spotted something. He moved his head slightly to get a better look.

  “You’re right, they aren’t exactly the same. These creatures are closer to the T’Kari than us. Look at them.”

  He held up the shattered head of the nearest dead creature. Though badly crushed, it still retained most of the shape. Spartan looked at it carefully, paying particular attention on the muscular jaws and forehead. He’d actually met similar ones on board a transport trying to flee the fighting at the Siege of Titan. Just thinking about that fight sent trembles through his body. They were fast, strong, and deadly in close combat. He looked down and examined the broken arms of the thing.

  “Yeah, they are far less developed than the ones we fought back home. I think you’re right. They’ve been harvesting T’Kari and using them as raw materials for these creatures. I bet that’s how they beat them in the end. The two things we know about them is that they are highly advanced but also completely useless in physical violence. These creatures will have been the perfect weapon to use against them.”

  Khan shook his head.

  “They aren’t as strong as our enemies though, and we still beat them,” replied Khan with unashamed pride; the fact that his people still hunted the mutated creatures, once more confirming his feeling of superiority.

  “Alpha, the Raiders are about to leave the wrecked ship. You’ve got eight minutes, tops.” It was a dull voice from the well-hidden transport they’d all arrived on.

  Spartan nodded to himself at the news. It forced his hand but made his job much easier. He had no interest in staying aboard this ship a second longer than was absolutely necessary.

  “Affirmative, prep yourselves for immediate extraction.”

  He then looked back to his small team.

  “Let’s finish this.”

  He pushed away from the walls and drifted further inside the ship. Khan was right behind, followed by another two of the operatives. They moved quickly through the vessel but came across no signs of the T’Kari or their mutated creatures. It took a full minute to cover the distance to the main corridor directly in the center. A number of large doorways ran off in different directions; the largest surrounded by glyphs. Spartan recognized them immediately as T’Kari writing.

  “This is it. Ayndir explained to me at the intelligence briefing that this is the marker for the command section of the ship.”

  “Let’s get in there then,” said Khan.

  He pulled himself through the doorway and inside what should have been the command section. The lighting was low, but the sensors on all the operatives’ suits were flashing with warnings. There was life in this part of the ship, more so than anywhere else. They moved even deeper until coming to a bank of machines surrounded with clear tubes filled with fluid. The pipes ran out into the walls and bulkheads. Spartan looked at it all with a mixture of surprise and repulsion.

  “Above!” cried Khan, simultaneously lifting his right arm.

  The bright flashes from his arm-mounted weapon slammed into the creature’s soft flesh, and just as before, each one was cut to pieces and chunks of flesh scattered around the weightless interior of the ship. Three more of the creatures emerged from the shadows before the assault finally stopped. Each of the APS operatives moved closer to the machine and the pipes. Spartan examined the structure but noticed the engineering was definitely not the same as the equipment he’d seen on human ships. The principles were the same, but this looked unique to the T’Kari. The head was the most obvious part of the creature that shared some of the important facial features of the T’Kari.

  Why the hell are there Biomechs on a T’Kari Raiding ship?

  As the four looked on, a dark shape appeared from the blackness. They all lifted their weapons,
expecting another onslaught from the foul things. Instead, it was a man wearing a respirator and odd clothing. He staggered and flailed about as if he’d never moved in a weightless environment before. Khan lowered his arm slightly as he looked at the figure, a glimmer of recognition showing on his face. Spartan knew him immediately.

  “Pontus?”

  The man looked as if he was nodding but then twisted his head about. He lifted his hands and drifted up to the ceiling before crashing and spinning out of control. He then dragged and clawed at the floor, trying to move toward the APS operatives. Unlike the biomechanical creatures, he was having a hard time making any sort of progress in the zero gravity of the ship.

  “What the hell is wrong with him?” asked one of the two operatives, waiting at the flanks of Khan and Spartan, but neither looked at them, as both seemed awestruck by the sight of the man. One of them lifted his carbine, but Spartan reached out and blocked him.

  “No, not yet!”

  Instead, he moved out in front and grabbed hold of the man. He pulled him straight and pushed his weightless body up against the wall. His clothes were different, more like those worn by the T’Kari civilians, and there were bruises and cuts on his face. He yanked and tugged at the mask on his face, gasping in the thin, barely breathable atmosphere.

  “Who...who are you?” he demanded with great effort.

  Spartan pulled him close so that the man was directly in front of him. He’d wanted this man for so long, and it took every measure of self-control not to shoot him where he stood.

  “You know me, I’m Spartan,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Pontus looked back at him without even a glimmer of recognition on his face. It was then he spotted the smashed remains of the Biomechs and recoiled in terror. It was this reaction more than any other that surprised Spartan. The last time Spartan had seen Pontus; he’d been with the machines and Biomechs of the enemy as one of their trusted commanders. Spartan gripped tighter and pulled the man close once more.