Machine Gods (Star Crusades Nexus, Book 2)

by Michael G. Thomas

  “You have to manage the battle from the ship,” he remembered Teresa saying as she was leaving for the battle.

  It pained him to stay behind, but he was becoming used to the fact that the further up he went, the less opportunities there were for direct involvement in the battle. It was starting to annoy him greatly. He turned his attention back to the display. It showed the numbers of small craft as they mobilized around the rear of the Guardian ship. A small number of the gun turrets on the station below had turned their attention to it, but they were having little effect. He thought for a few seconds and hit the connect button.

  “Commander, what is it?” responded General Daniels with the minimum of patience.

  “General, the 17th is currently boarding the Guardian ship. Now what about this station?”

  “What about it?”

  “I can take that station with a company of marines. They are prepping now.”

  General Daniels raised an eyebrow at the suggestion.

  “No, our scans still show nearly three hundred Helions on board, plus who knows what kind of defensive systems. You could lose the entire unit. Anyway, they are not shooting at our ships anymore.”

  Gun was surprised at these words. He looked back to his map of the battle as it was unfolding. The display was zoomed in around the Guardian ship, and he hadn’t noticed the changing positions of the other ships. He’d been too busy directing each of the platoons into position at key points over the ship.

  You idiot, you have one job, that damned ship!

  “Gun, the situation has changed.”

  “How so?”

  The Guardian ship has released fighters. Most of them are busy with our own fighters, but there are also a dozen lighter craft that are hunting down craft launched from our ships. Two shuttles have been hit already.”

  Gun scowled at the news but said nothing.

  “We’re holding our own, but we cannot risk sending in any more marine units from our ships. Your ship is the closest. It’s only a sixty-second journey from your hull to theirs. I can give you enough fighter cover for one more run, any more, and they’ll shoot down your landing craft.”

  General Daniels knew what he was asking, and he also knew that there was no better man to lead the assault than the experienced war leader and Biomech veteran, Commander Gun.

  “You need to launch every thing you have left in one big attack. Do you have any operational Vanguards on your ship?” asked Daniels.

  Gun grinned at his words. The armor was the massive mechanical suit first used in combat by Spartan back in the Uprising. They’d been using them for training in the 17th, but only a small number of the strongest and those best suited to close quarter combat would be able to use them effectively.

  “Yeah, I have twenty or so of them, all fully functional. Why?”

  “Take out her fighter bays. They’ve been launching a new fighter every sixty seconds. If you can stop them sending anymore, it will allow us to send you more marines.”

  Gun couldn’t have looked happier.

  “General, give me five minutes, then send in your fighters.”

  The General saluted to the new commander of the 17th.”

  “Good luck, Commander.”

  * * *

  Teresa climbed through the melted bulkhead structure and into the cylindrical passageway. The walkway was much larger than on any Alliance ship. She was reminded of a cave, based on its overall size and shape. Like the latest Crusader class warships, this vessel was using a form of artificial gravity. Even so, it was still less than she was used to, and it slowed their progress.

  “Major, sensors are detecting no life signs within a hundred meters,” said Sergeant Arina Nova in a hushed voice.

  Teresa nodded, “Affirmative, keep moving.”

  As the first unit on the ship, the single squad had pushed deep inside the aft. More marines had managed to make it, but nowhere near as many as had been planned.

  “Major,” said Commander Gun, his voice seeming to be so far away on their ship, “The last wave has been turned back. It’s just your three platoons of 1st Company and a single platoon from 3rd Company.”

  “What the hell! Where are the rest?”

  “The Guardian ship has launched fighters, but don’t worry, I’m working on that. See if you can do something about her engines or weapons. The tech teams here have this for you.”

  On the left of her visor a schematic appeared. It was a rough plan of the ship, based on sensor scans of the exterior plus the data sent by from the sensor feeds on the armor worn by the marines.

  “This is one big ship,” she said, forgetting that Gun could hear her.

  “Yeah, about the size of a tanker, maybe bigger.”

  She skimmed over the details and spotted the locations of the main weapons fitted toward the rear of the ship. It was the closest primary system that she could find. Dark green spots indicated the positions of her marines at various points in the aft.

  “Gun, I’m splitting my forces. One platoon will strike the engines, the rest will move inside the ship and target any primary systems we find.”

  “Good, I am preparing a final wave to assist you. When the fighters are thinned out, I’ll lead them in.”

  Teresa looked ahead, ever vigilant and expecting trouble. She was sure she saw something moving, yet the scanner on her armor showed nothing. Simply by moving her retinas, she selected each of her units and sent command directives to all the platoons. It was quicker than using audio commands through the intercom. Something caught her eye, and she glanced back to see the marines from 1st Company making their way inside. She nodded and then looked back in the direction her own unit was heading.

  “Marines, check your visuals. I don’t like this.”

  She lifted her coilgun up to her shoulder at the exact same moment that the great machine burst out from the darkness. It actually dropped down from the ceiling, roughly thirty meters away. It was squat in shape and protected by smooth, ceramic looking plates from head to toe. It moved like it was alive, but she couldn’t see a single hint of living matter anywhere on it. Sergeant Nova opened fire first and was followed by the rest of the marines at the front. The crimson striped marines put down a withering hail of fire that sent sparks and flashes off around its armor. It must have changed its mind, as the machine moved to its right and behind the covered provided by the thickly ribbed tunnel.

  “Gun, we’ve got hostiles down here.”

  She checked the schematics as they continued to expand with details from the marines.

  Okay, so the passageway reaches an intersection after this thing, then it splits up. It must be trying to stop us reaching the junction.

  The machine leaned out from the cover and aimed its right arm at the marines. Yellow flames flashed and dozens of projectiles, each the size of a man’s finger, ripped through the marines. Their armor deflected most of the fire, yet two of the guards took impacts in the faces and were slammed onto their backs, now nothing more than lifeless corpses.

  “Gun?” called out Teresa again on the intercom.

  “Understood. I will be there when I can. You know what to do.”

  Teresa smiled grimly to herself; it was exactly the kind of thing she would expect him to say. She took a step forward, her weapon raised and ready.

  “Marines, maximum power, forward!”

  The surviving guards of Sergeant Nova’s squad moved closely around their leader, ensuring they could shoot while doing their best to present themselves as human shields against potential fire from the tunnel. The machine tried to return fire, but the coilgun of the marines utilized their high-power mode to tear chunks off it. By the time Teresa reached it, the marines had torn it apart and were moving on to secure the intersection. She stopped, examining it for a moment.

  This must be another one of their warriors.

  A symbol on its thigh caught her eye. She leaned in for a closer look and saw the coiled serpent of Echidna. It was similar to the ico
nography used by the Zealots and their allies back in the Uprising. A scream made her spine tingle, and she turned around, trying to identify the source. Instead, she identified man-sized Biomechs, but with the shape and muscle tone of the Jötnar, and carrying firearms. They appeared from hidden points throughout the passageway and fell upon her marines.

  “Close quarter drill!” shouted Arina, remembering their training.

  Unlike any other battalion in this part of space, the 17th had spent as much time practicing hand-to-hand combat as they did their shooting. It was unusual, but both Teresa and Gun had demanded it. All it took was a tap on the side of the coilgun to release the retracted bayonet. In seconds, each in the passageway had both coilgun and a razor sharp spear. The bayonets extended over thirty centimeters and ran into a hardened tip that was perfectly suited for stabbing into armor. Teresa would have been impressed if two of the Biomechs hadn’t leapt at her.

  “Major!” cried out Arina, but it was too late.

  The Biomech brought its rifle down on her shoulder, striking the armor with a blow that almost crushed her collar. She dropped to one knee, using all her strength to stay upright. A quick jabbing motion from her right saw her coilgun thrust upward in a savage move that punched the spike bayonet into the thing’s armpit. It pushed through the thick skin with ease and up into the base of the skull. The creature screamed and flailed before dropping to the ground, still shaking from the killing move. A corporal stopped next to her, firing a burst at another Biomech, and then helped her to stand upright.

  “I’m okay, Corporal.”

  She placed her left armored boot on the Biomech’s stationary head and yanked the spiked rifle from it skull. Thick blood oozed from the wound, and she noted with satisfaction how it died. It was almost enough to dull the throbbing in her collar and shoulder. It didn’t feel broken, but it was certainly badly bruised. She tried to lift her arm, but the pain was too much when she lifted the rifle to her shoulder. She spotted the Corporal looking at her.

  “Keep moving. We need the engines and guns taken care of.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As the Alliance made its first tentative steps into the Helios System, a group of fledgling colonies struggled to expand back in the so recently discovered T’Karan System. The T’Kari had welcomed the Alliance with open arms, and the Jötnar had been amongst the first to set up colonies. The most prominent of these was on Luthien, the small iron silicate world that most considered inhospitable. In the past, it had been the homeworld of the T’Kari, a place of learning and advanced technology. The war against the biomechanical enemy reduced the cities to dust and polluted the atmosphere for hundreds of years. To the Jötnar, it became a second home after the jungle world of Hyperion.

  The New Colonies

  Another explosion ripped through the bow of ANS Victory, sending any unfortunate crewmembers still in the forward sections out into the void of space. The outer plating was torn apart as though a great iron fist had smashed through and pulled back the exposed segments. Massive bulkhead sections melted into slag from the incredible heat produced by the thermite missiles. Very few of them made it past the fighter screen, and even fewer penetrated the point-defense turrets. The ship rocked from the fearsome impact, and the officers in the CIC were forced to grasp the emergency grab rails dotted throughout the ship.

  “Brace, brace, brace!” came a random voice toward the front.

  Admiral Anderson watched in horror at the scenes of carnage when three more thermite missiles struck different sections of the ship. None detonated until they had embedded themselves deep inside the plating before releasing their superheated warheads. With each explosion, came a thump through his body like a burst of adrenalin. He had an even greater concern, and it came in the shape of a small group of Helion ships that was heading toward the space battle at great speed. They’d been tracking them now for over an hour, and he had no idea as to their plans.

  “Get me T’Kron on the horn!” he snapped, his patience starting to wear thin.

  Commander D'Vani moved his hands around the display and soon brought up the video feed of the T’Kari exile.

  “Admiral!”

  Anderson turned and looked directly into his face.

  “T’Kron, I need something on those ships. What can you do?”

  T’Kron twisted his head and spoke with one of his crew before looking back.

  “Admiral, we’ve sent them information on why we are here. They are receiving us but are refusing to communicate directly back with us.”

  Anderson’s face started to redden, and it took all of his self-control to keep calm.

  “Send them a new message, T’Kron. We are here in peace, and we’re enemies of this biomechanical enemy of yours. Either they help us stop this ship, or God help me, I’ll bring a thousand more ships and burn Helios to ash.”

  T’Kron looked at him but said nothing. His expression was cold and static as though he was a mere sculpture. Finally, he replied.

  “You would do that?”

  “Just tell him!”

  Anderson turned back to his own officers, doing his best to hide his look of exasperation from them. General Daniels seemed far too busy commanding the combat mission onboard the Guardian ship to even notice what he had been saying. His tactical display looked like a giant war-game, with blocks of marines at certain points on the enemy ship. Two of his officers stood alongside him to help with the communications. Admiral Anderson spotted him for a second and noted his grim expression. The General saw his stare.

  “Admiral, the Guardian ship has sustained major damage to its hull and armor. I have one platoon from the 3rd Company moving up a pair of passageways and destroying anything they find. So far, they’ve managed to destroy seven weapon control units and a large number of Biomech warriors.”

  “What about the rest?”

  The General moved the map slightly to show the positions of the three platoons under the command of Major Morato.

  “The entire 1st Company under Major Morato has split up and is moving toward the bow.”

  “Why?” Anderson asked.

  General Daniels pointed at a pulsing location about ninety meters from the bow of the ship. They are moving in on this location.”

  Commander D'Vani brought up a detailed schematic of the area covered by the marines so far. At one point, it showed a chamber the size of a training hall. Multiple passageways led to it, as well as pulsing rods that extended to all the main areas of the ship.

  “My scans indicate this is where a massive amount of power is being generated.”

  “For what?”

  The Chief Engineer shrugged.

  “I couldn’t say with any great certainty. It’s the most significant location in the entire ship though. More importantly, the machines onboard are defending it at all costs.”

  Anderson nodded, looking back at the main display in the front of the CIC. The streaks of heavy gunfire ran out into Guardian ship, sending patterns of yellow flashes along the hull. He witnessed massive heat blooms and explosions, as yet more blasts from the Alliance warships’ particle beams exploded layer upon layer of its armor.

  “This is going to take a while, but I think we’re getting there,” he said calmly.

  But something unsettled him. He tapped at the ship on the display.

  “Why are they still attacking us? Surely they could just turn and run. If they stay here, they risk sustaining internal damage from our marines or being vaporized by our ships.”

  “Admiral, I suspect they do not think they can outrun us. Serenity and Savage are both unable to pursue. Once they’ve slowed our last four ships, they’ll power up and head for the Rift. We are all taking damage in this fight, but their ship is designed for taking punishment, not giving it out. In a drawn out fight, the advantage goes to them.”

  Anderson looked unimpressed at the news.

  “If they can disable us, what if we do the same to them? It doesn’t make sense. They are risking a
n awful lot on this gamble.”

  The three-dimensional model of the ship rotated on the tactical display of Lieutenant Powalk. He moved his hand along one side of the ship where areas were now lighting up in red.

  “I’m detecting breaches in over fifty locations, and she is venting ionized plasma on her starboard side where our marine units are in action.

  “Starboard? We’ve been hitting her from every other direction.”

  Teresa, he remembered. Her units must have breached the weapon capacitors on that side.

  “Based on this damage, I’d say the ship is sustaining damage at a similar level to us. Their guns are down fifty percent, and our units on board are causing more damage every minute. We’ve sustained fifteen percent casualties and rising. It could still be a close run thing.”

  Anderson nodded at the news. The ships were doing well, even if the casualties suggested otherwise. Without the marines, the Guardian ship would be making short work of his ships. General Daniels strode into the middle of the discussion and gave a shout as he pointed to Lieutenant Powalk’s display.

  “Admiral, I’ve got news from Major Morato. They’ve reached the central power point, and they’ve hit a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “They’re pinned down, and she’s running out of marines.”

  Anderson breathed slowly.

  “Can she take out the power systems?”

  Daniels shook his head.

  “At this rate, she’ll be dead in fifteen minutes. I’m sending in Gun.”

  Lieutenant Powalk cried out, “But, Sir, their flank guns are still operational. We have fighter cover, but only just. He’ll be lucky to get within a hundred meters of the ship.”

  Anderson watched the discussion intently and agreed with both of them, but that wouldn’t help resolve the situation. It wasn’t just the hundred and fifty or so marines on the ship they risked losing, no, it was that if they lost the marines, they lost the chance of winning this encounter.