Admiral's War Part Two (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 10)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  Akantha took hold of the hatch grab-bar with one hand and her sword with the other and drove the blade into the edge of the hull near the locking mechanism.

  “It’s impossible; vibro-blades won’t even scratch….” He trailed off stupidly as her sword went in an inch and then stalled.

  “This is not a vibro-blade—and I need more power!” she said, “get me something to brace on and a couple more hands.”

  Another commando came running up. “Captain we’re taking heavy fire from the Imperials! Third platoon has taken 20% casualties and is falling back,” reported the commando, “we have to prepare to break out or we’re finished, Sir.”

  “Grab here and here, Lieutenant,” instructed the captain, moving the commando over so that he was gripping at several points of the hatch.

  “But Sir!” protested the Lieutenant.

  “No time, Stacknack!” said the Captain, stepping up to Akantha and taking a grip on Bandersnatch, “I need two more soldiers!”

  Four more commandos shuffle-stepped up, careful not to overextend the grab of their sticky pads. Two of them also grabbed onto bars, turning themselves into human—or rather battle-suited—braces while the other two soldiers did their best to get a firm grip on the blade.

  “Lady, I sure hope you know what you’re doing because otherwise this blade is going to break,” he said.

  “Of course,” she said with a sniff, waiting impatiently while everyone took up their positions before commanding, “now, Captain!”

  “Alright—heave!” shouted the Captain.

  The other men collectively grunted for several seconds, and their vocal strains were followed by the sound of slowly-tearing hull metal—which, unlike the rest of the crystalline mono-locsium around it, was made of duralloy metal.

  Under the combined pressure of four battle-suit servos, the Dark Sword flexed ever so slightly but it didn’t break.

  “One more time!”

  ****************************************************

  “Fire in the hole!” warned Major Nottingham right before a capital ship light laser fired from inside the hull.

  “Barrier is breeched!” confirmed a Sensor Tech.

  “Fire again,” Nottingham instructed.

  Ten seconds later the light laser fired again as it lanced through the enemy’s position.

  “All companies, all units: attack!” ordered Nottingham, lowering her hands to waist level and activating the plasma guns built into both arms of her suit.

  “For the Empire!” shouted the Marine Jacks as they charged.

  ****************************************************

  “Sir, they took out a good twenty of our battle suits when they swept the laser that last time,” reported a no nonsense Caprian non-com. “We’re still treating the wounded and reorganizing but if they keep hitting us like this, Captain…”

  Darius looked down on the Sergeant and then looked over at the bulkhead where the lasers had come from.

  There was a ping from the sensor techs indicating an emergency transmission. He quickly accepted it, “What—”

  “Here they come, Captain!” cried the Sensor Tech, shooting him over the feed.

  Darius’s eyes flashed. “Devastators: on my position,” he shouted, drawing his sword. The enemy had made the decision for them, and it was now time to break out or die trying. “Up and at them, warriors—prepare to charge!”

  Looking at his HUD, the enemy had moved in around the entire perimeter using explosives to make openings in walls where needed. The remains of his company were embattled all around.

  It was up to the new suits now. “Charge!” he cried as soon as more than half of the suits had stomped over to him.

  Leveling his sword, he led them toward the enemy.

  They were on death’s own ground now.

  It was time to fight!

  ****************************************************

  “Forward!” Akantha commanded, waving her arm forward and leading the way at a run.

  “Where are we going, Your Grace?” asked the Captain Jergeson Tyr, hurrying after her.

  “Better the enemy in front than the one behind,” the Hold Mistress quipped.

  “But we have no idea where or how strong the forces deeper in the ship are,” he objected.

  “Exactly,” Akantha said increasing her speed, “we know the force on the hull is much stronger. Even if we won against them, your company would take heavy casualties but we have no idea what we’ll face in here.”

  “My people are not afraid of a fight!” said Captain Tyr.

  “Of course not, they are warriors,” she rolled her eyes, “but our mission is not merely to kill the enemy wherever we find her—our primary mission is to knock out that heavy cannon on the front of their ship. To do that we must get inside, which we now have, and find that weapon!”

  “That’s right,” Jergeson Tyr agreed, sounding thrown off his stride.

  “Contact!” reported a scout over the com-link before the channel suddenly filled with static.

  “What’s going on?” snapped Captain Tyr.

  “The enemy seem to be jamming our transmissions, Sir,” reported the company HQ’s com-tech, “I’m trying to compensate.”

  “Do it faster,” he growled.

  “What do you want to do, Captain?” asked the company Sergeant Major.

  “We push forward,” Akantha interrupted before he could reply.

  The group slowed and Jergeson Tyr snapped open his visor.

  Akantha followed suit, eyeing him.

  “Normally that would be a consideration, but having a supernumerary like Your Grace…” Tyr hesitated, shaking his head, “the Admiral will kill me if anything happens to you.”

  “The enemy will kill you just as dead as my Protector ever could,” Akantha sneered and then snapped closed her visor. “I do not know your purpose, but I am here to kill the enemy. If you have other ideas, you are free to do as you like—I release you.” She turned to her guard, “Persus!”

  “Yes, my lady,” he acknowledged promptly.

  “Follow me,” she ordered, breaking into a run with her blade leveled and ready to attack.

  “For the Hold!” he cried.

  The Captain, Sergeant and com-tech exchanged quick looks. “That tears it,” cursed Tyr, breaking into a run, “activate a companywide override: we need to catch that woman before she goes gets her fool self killed!”

  “Yes, Sir,” the Tech said sharply and did just that flooding the company com-links with the new movement order.

  “Might want to consider dumping the suit records just in case anything happens,” advised the Sergeant Major.

  Tyr glared at him hotly, “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that? We’ve got too many rookies in this company; someone would flap their yap even if the data files were purged!”

  “Saint Owens,” swore the Sergeant.

  “You must be getting old, Smaj,” quipped the Captain.

  The Sergeant Major glared. “Space Commandoes forward! What are you looking at, rookies? We’ve got a VIP about to get her head blown off. Do you want to be the one to tell the General we let Akantha Montagne get her head blown off? Move—move—move!”

  Like a herd of elephants, the company launched itself into hot pursuit of the rampant ‘Hold Mistress.’

  Moments later, they slammed into two platoons of Marine Jacks.

  Seeing a pair of dead scouts and Akantha Montagne, surrounded by a squad of Jacks back-to-back with her bodyguard, the Captain leveled his blaster rifle and fired.

  “Sergeant Major!” he barked.

  The Sergeant Major shouldered his rifle and a pair of two foot long boarding knives appeared in his hands as he crouched.

  “Follow me, boys,” he shouted, launching himself full speed at the nearest Jack with his deadly knives flashing. The Sergeant Major was closely followed by First Squad of First Platoon.

  “Hoo-ah!” shouted the squad.

 
Smoothly, two squads of Jacks turned and plasma counter-fire shot back down the hall.

  “Forward, you monkeys!” the Captain gave up on aimed shots after taking two to the chest and set his blaster rifle to full auto. “Time to rock and roll!” Tyr screamed, advancing steadily just like he was trained.

  ****************************************************

  Darius pivoted, blocking an attack aimed at his leg joints with his right combat blade and then snapped his head back to the left where he lifted his ion cannon and shot the enemy point blank in his visor. From the way the Marine Jack reeled, the Tracto-an Captain figured he’d just messed up the other man’s HUD.

  Instinctively deciding that very split second that he had stayed in one place for too long, he crouched down and retracted his combat blade. His plasma cannon automatically extended into firing position as the blade disappeared back into the arm, and he opened fire.

  Plasma and ion bolts swept from knee to head level as he twisted his arms around in a circle. Jacks started to lose armor containment as molten hot blobs, chips and fragments of battle armor flew from their screaming bodies.

  Then his battlesuit rocked forward as an incredible weight landed on him, and he had to use his ion cannon’s barrel to stop his forward fall.

  “In the name of Men!” he roared, the glint of mono-locsium at the corner of his vision causing him fall onto his right shoulder while firing blindly as far behind himself as he could manage.

  The axe came down, his head rang and a part of the HUD fractured. The enemy Jack raised his boarding axe again.

  “Captain!” shouted one of his veterans. The other warrior, also in a Devastator suit, ran forward. Plasma fire spewed from his right arm while his left was fully extended toward the wall. The veteran bellowed as he clotheslined the Imperial, sending the Jack to the floor.

  “Lyconesia!” roared Darius, pushing himself up to his feet as he retracted both cannons and extended his combat blades. As soon as the blades were out, he charged.

  “For the Hold!” shouted his veteran, and the two of them pushed into the mass of enemy Jacks.

  Blocking an axe, he kicked out and knocked a Jack to the floor. Raising his oversized metal leg, Captain Darius stomped down on the other man’s head.

  Undeterred by the stomp, the Jack swung his boarding axe upward trying for a crippling knee strike.

  “Die for me!” roared Darius, fighting off three Jacks with his blades and continuing to stomp the fallen Marine Jack’s reinforced head structure. It wasn’t right to call it a helmet; the Jack’s literally had solid metal from shoulder to head, with a deadly-looking red visor where their eyes should be. But Darius refused to believe that it couldn’t be cracked. “Break!” he shouted, stomping a second, and then third time in quick succession.

  The Jack’s swings started to lose their power and his battle brothers in the Marines pressed Darius hard. It was all he could to do block and block and push the third suit away—especially since they were now targeting his damaged visor region.

  Beside him, his veteran fell to one knee and was instantly swarmed over by three Marine Jacks. Boarding axes and plasma bolts fell down on the other warrior like waves.

  “Men!” Darius cried, jumping forward heedless of the Jacks who were all too eager to take this chance to cut him down. A boarding axe landed on his right shoulder, causing warning alarms to flash across the still-working portions of his HUD. “I don’t believe you’ll break!” he shouted, wrapping his massive, armored arms around the Marine that had just struck him.

  Squeezing, he swung around in a half circle and then sent the Jack flying toward the three Marines that were tearing apart his veteran ally.

  Like a bowling ball hitting a line of pins, the Jacks on his veteran were sent flying or staggering back by the force of his impromptu discus attack.

  Then his right leg shuddered and he instinctively swung down with his combat blade. Eyes following moments after the attack, Darius saw a boarding axe stuck several inches deep in that part of his suit above the knee and a Marine crouched down with both hands on the axe.

  “It’ll take more than that!” Darius snarled, kneeing the man in the breastplate and following up with step on the Marine’s torso. Servos whined as he stepped up and then he had both feet on top of the hapless Marine. “It will takes more than the likes of you,” he raged, crouching and then jumping a half foot—which was the best the Devastator suit could do with all the extra weight—and then landing back on the Jack’s stomach to crack his robust, Imperial battle armor.

  The Jack under his feet convulsed and Darius stepped off, his arm-blades swinging.

  A sudden strike to his blind right side sent him crashing against the wall. While he was distracted, a pair of nearly invisible Jacks launched themselves at the veteran beside him as their fast movement uncloaked them.

  Activating his grenade launcher, he shot sonic grenades at close range. The blows knocked the Jacks back off the fallen Veteran and sent him crashing back against the wall.

  Then, up in the middle of the Jack formation, a vibro-sword cut through the duralloy internal walls. A pair of Lancers in old-style Caprian battlesuits came charging through the newly-made hole.

  Then the battle turned hot and furious.

  Giving his head a shake, Darius ignored the yellow and red warnings flashing across his HUD and toggled his grenade selection.

  “Plasma Out!” he shouted over the local line-of-sight com-channel, causing the pair of battered-looking reinforcements to immediately drop to the floor and roll toward the walls. Warning given, the Lancer Captain shot plasma grenades into the midst of the enemy Marines firing up and down the hall.

  “To the honor of our ancestors and the Glory of Men!” he yelled as plasma grenades activated in rapid succession, turning the corridor into a demon’s playground. Retracting his blades, he added to the chaos by shooting everything that moved with his twin arm cannons.

  “Captain, this is Sergeant Blade,” his com-link chimed.

  “This is the Captain, what do you have?” he asked, “and why isn’t your Lieutenant reporting to me?”

  “The Lieutenant is dead and the rear line has collapsed,” Sergeant Blade reported, the sound of plasma rifle and blaster fire too loud over the link, indicating a compromised helmet situation on the other end of the line. “The only reason you’re not crawling in Jacks by now is because of these blasted corridors. It bottlenecks them just as badly as it does us. I am trying to delay them with a fighting retreat but I don’t know how successful—” the Sergeant stopped speaking and the rapid sound of repeated blaster fire picked up followed by a gasp and a grunt of pain. “Take this, you blasted Imps—this is for Port Andrew!” the Sergeant screamed, referring to one of the small towns near the Caprian Summer Palace that got hit and was destroyed in the post-orbital bombardment fallout.

  Several more blaster and plasma shots came over the com-link before the line went dead.

  In the hall Darius was standing in, the fire from the plasma grenades and his counterattack finally died down. A number of Jacks were down, their suits cracked open, and even more were injured.

  Stomping over, Darius jerked the veteran back up to his feet.

  “I’m done for, Warlord,” gasped the veteran, his suit starting to fall back down.

  “On your feet, warrior—there is more killing to be done today. You cannot die yet,” Darius commanded, popping open a mini-storage box in his suit and pulling out a cable. Opening a similar port on the Veteran’s suit, he inserted the plug. The other man’s suit control system came up and, using his command override, he instructed it to inject the veteran with an emergency cocktail.

  “Gaah,” gurgled the Veteran, stiffening inside his suit.

  “Up—up!” commanded the Captain, once again forcing the Veteran to his feet.

  This time, despite several bloody rents in the armor and a malfunctioning leg, the order seemed to stick.

  When another squad of Marines ro
unded the corner, the two Devastators turned and advanced.

  “Forward, warriors—we have to break out of this encirclement if we want to live long enough to destroy that cannon,” Darius commanded over the general push.

  “Messene!”

  ****************************************************

  “Enemy breakout attempt has stalled, Major,” reported the Battalion com-tech, “Third Company reports heavy casualties to two platoons. Those big, clunky suits of theirs are a lot tougher than pre-battle intel suggested but reinforcements from Second Company first platoon have arrived on scene in time to stabilize things. Otherwise, we really might have had a breakout.”

  “Why didn’t Third Company’s reserve platoon move to intercept?” demanded Nottingham, kicking an enemy suit to the ground and rapid-firing her plasma lines until the enemy’s face plate broke and the enemy ‘Lancer’ died. “We’re already in the main compartment, and what’s left of the enemy is pulling back toward their breakout forces. The enemy is trapped in an increasingly small space.”

  “The 3rd’s reserve platoon ran into a little bit of trouble and weren’t able to make it in time. Right now they are reporting a large force of enemy battlesuits and are requesting reinforcements. Second Company is pulling a platoon off the encirclement unless you countermand them,” said the Tech.

  Nottingham frowned. “I thought those clowns we replaced were supposed to take care of any stragglers. Confirm the Second’s orders to reinforce Third, and kick a complaint about the situation up the chain to General McMann,” Major Nottingham instructed. “It’s nothing the Brunt can’t deal with, but since we’re already moving in that direction let’s kick another platoon free from the Fourth and have them shift around front just in case these new arrivals are more than they seem.”

  Chapter Ninety-five: Just a Shrub in the Office

  “Hey, you can’t go in there. We’re in lockdown!” cried the Imperial rating.

  “Come again?” asked the nondescript-looking man in a standard, Imperial crew work uniform as he looked up from the security interface he was working on.