Star Crusades Nexus: Book 05 - Prophecy of Fire (27 page)

Captain Perry, the commander of ANS Royal Oak pointed at the image of the fleet.

“How long will we need to complete the rescue operation?”

General Daniels took a long, slow breath before answering his question.

“I’ll need at least an hour to get craft on the ground, clear landing zones, and then grab the survivors. I have the timings...and it’s going to be very close.”

Admiral Lewis looked at the model showing their dispositions, trying to imagine how the battle would unfold. He’d tried to use the basic principle of the Battle of the Nile, but in space there were some things he simply couldn’t ignore. The long range and almost instant speed of the particle-beam weapons were deadly, but that was just the beginning. It was fighting the battle in orbit that caused the greatest problem. The two fleets couldn’t maneuver around each other. They would simply pass by each other with a narrow window to use their weapons. On the second and final pass, he would need to extract the marines’ rescue craft and then use the slingshot effect of the moon plus his engines to blast off into space.

Could this work?
he wondered.

He looked back at the officers and the model of the moon. The aerial images and video streams from the remaining drones reminded him he had to do something. If there was any chance of the marines holding out, he might have felt differently; but they were looking at the complete annihilation of two battalions plus their New Helion Army allies and hundreds of support personnel.

If we don’t succeed, this could be the biggest disaster since the capture of the Titan Naval Station in the Uprising.

* * *

Spartan and Khan moved slowly into position around the control room of the station. Streaks of blood on the floor and walls showed where the two machines had worked their way inside. Spartan placed his finger over his lips and leaned out to take a look. He could see three metallic limbs near the entrance, and there was a great deal of noise coming from inside the station itself. The legs shifted and vanished inside.

Just like old times.

He moved back and waved at them both. Khan moved up behind him. Simon waited patiently behind them, beads of sweat running down the poor man’s face.

“Forget the legs, aim at the body. They are like spiders. The loss of a leg does nothing to them. We kill the one at the door first.”

Khan smiled that great wide beam he never showed, except when he was about to commit copious amounts of violence or engage in some form of physical contest with his brethren. He held up his modified shotgun and aimed it at the doorway. The engineer watched them both, doing his best to look confident, but his shaking hands and white face betrayed his true feelings.

“Now!” said Spartan.

The two moved for the doorway. Spartan took the right, and Khan moved to the left. Spartan took two steps and then cleared the door. Khan didn’t wait and followed right behind, but it was harder for him to move with the stealth that Spartan could manage. The command room was on two levels; the raised section further away and flanked by computer displays. One of the machines waited in the middle and turned to face them.

“Where’s the other one?” asked Simon, stepping in behind them.

The two experienced warriors took quick aim at the machine and opened fire. Unlike conventional shotguns, these weapons released scattered pellets of superheated metal and ripped chunks out of the metal armor covering the machine. Spartan fired more slowly and took careful aim. Khan emptied the box magazine in less than three seconds. The engineer didn’t even have time to shoot before two of the machine’s legs had been blown off and its body shattered from a dozen impacts. It still twisted about and stumbled toward them, with two of the legs extended.

“Shoot it!” shouted Spartan.

Khan was reloading, and Spartan had just fired his last shot as it moved even closer to them. At this range, the shape was much clearer to see. The body was easily the size of a man’s, and the arms were like some metallic appendage torn from an octopus and fitted with pistons and curved blades. It hacked and stabbed at Khan, who instead of reloading used his shotgun like a club. He parried the first attack, but the second arm managed to embed in his upper right leg.

“Damned machine!” he snapped in mock amusement.

Spartan took a step to the side and finished fitting the box magazine when the engineer opened fire. His shots were wild, yet three managed to strike near the middle of the target. Each impact ripped a chunk the size of a man’s fist from the housing until finally a blue flash announced its death. Ripples of energy ran about its frame. It slid to the floor on lifeless, weakened legs. Spartan took aim, but it was over. The machine was now unable to continue the fight.

“Great work, Simon...” Spartan said, a sly grin forming on his face.

He turned to look at the man, and his face transformed as though some great magnet had pulled his features down to the floor. Right behind Simon was the shape of the second and last of the Biomech machines. There was no clear face, but its torso was upright and shielded by the form of the engineer. Three red shapes appeared, one in his chest, one in his stomach, and one in his throat. It took a second for Spartan to realize they were the razor edged tips of three of the machine’s legs.

“Spartan, watch out!” roared Khan.

He grabbed Spartan, yanking him to his left just as the machine withdrew its blades and stepped over the body of the fallen engineer. Spartan staggered and almost fell before crashing into one of the computer displays, sending glass flying.

“Die!” roared his friend, throwing himself at the machine.

Khan was nearly two and a half meters tall, slightly shorter than the larger of his people, but a veritable giant compared to a normal man. His thick, bulging muscles flexed as he grabbed the nearest limbs and tried to hurl the machine into the wall. They must have been equally matched in size, weight, and strength though. He was unable to move it. Spartan looked to his left, then right before spotting his fallen shotgun. He leapt for it, reaching out with his left hand; once again forgetting it was now nothing but a stump. Cursing, he used his right, checked the box and took aim.

“Out of the way, you fool!” he called out.

Khan tried to move, but he was locked in mortal combat with the machine and from the way it had twisted its metal limbs around him, he was unable to move. Spartan shook his head angrily and then ran back with the shotgun held up high.

“Hold on, I’m coming!”

He ran to the right of Khan, stabbed down with the shotgun’s muzzle pressed firmly at its body, and pulled the trigger. The recoil was substantial, especially when held in just one hand. At this range, the hole it burned went halfway through the thing’s body.

“It’s still moving!” said Khan, crying out in pain.

Spartan could see a red line running along his friend’s flank.

It’s going to open him up, come on!

He pulled the trigger over and over until the machine released two of the arms on Khan and flailed out at him. Spartan flew backward and landed hard on his back, the impact almost knocking him out cold. It was enough though and freed up Khan’s arms. He reached inside the hole, ignoring the smell of burning flesh as the superheated metal on the scarred housing burned into his fingers and wrist. He could feel tubes and cables and pulled and tore at whatever he could find. The machine seemed to shriek, and then it fell motionless, like some twisted metallic spider. With a few pulls and tugs, he dragged himself away from the machine and staggered over to Spartan. Blood dripped from a dozen deep wounds on his body. Something gave way in his leg, and he dropped down next to his friend.

“You crazy fool,” said Spartan.

Khan was in great pain, but the sight of the two smashed machines put a smile back on his face, a smile Spartan couldn’t remember seeing for many months. He lifted himself from the floor and looked for the sign of a medical kit. Luckily, there were small red signs in every room and passageway of the station. There was one near the door, and in just a few short seconds, he had the unit and ripped out a sealant package to help staunch the blood flow and block up the wound. As he applied the gooey material, Khan looked to him.

“We did it, Spartan, two more machines down.”

Spartan nodded and looked back at the case for a dressing.

“How many more do we need to kill though?”

As he fitted the dressing, Khan groaned a little. It wasn’t much, but if Khan made any noise, Spartan knew it must be hurting his friend a great deal. It seemed to take an age to patch him up, but finally his work was done, and the two just sat there, both of them physically and emotionally exhausted. Khan twisted his head, the pain returning as he moved.

“It doesn’t matter how many are left, Spartan. We’ll find everyone of them and do the same to them.”

Spartan looked back at the wrecked machines and blood all around them. He started to smile, then noticing the lifeless corpse of their newest friend, Simon, the engineer who had risked everything to help them. His smile to turned to a frown, and his forehead tightened as the rage returned once more.

“You’re right, Khan. We need to finish this once and for all.”

Alliance holdings at the start of the Biomech incursions into Helios were impressive, especially when considering humanity had only spread to two star systems a mere generation earlier. The eight planets of Sol were the old worlds of the Alliance, recently brought back under central control. Then came the thirteen rich worlds of Alpha Centauri and the equally successful eleven worlds of Proxima Centauri, all of these had formed the core of the loose Confederacy. In the last generation, the Alliance had grown to include fledgling colonies at the stars of Epsilon Eridani, Gliese 876, Procyon, and finally T’Karan in the Orion Nebula. Only through the use of the Interstellar Network was any of this possible, and it would prove to be the single greatest strength and weakness of the Alliance.

A Concise Guide to Interstellar Travel

A rocket whistled out from the defenders and slammed into a group of Biomech warriors. Two vanished in the flash, and a third struggled on with just one leg and a shattered left arm before succumbing to the gunfire of a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. Two more moved out from the cover to take its place and put down a hail of fire into the marines’ position.

These newly identified fighters were known by their temporary disparaging nickname of ‘Tin Cans’, or ‘Canners’ for short, and had secured most of the base. Scores of them had dug in closer to the marines and now engaged in a bloody series of firefights that wore down both sides in a slow attritional battle.

“Get down!” Jack cried out.

His comrades had withdrawn to the safety of the shattered bunker that held almost a dozen marines. Two crew-served heavy weapon emplacements saturated the open ground that had turned to a deadly killing ground for both sides. The left wall of the bunker was now partially collapsed but still provided the most substantial cover around them.

“What about the Bulldogs? I thought we were getting out of here?” asked Riku.

Jack fired a single shot, doing his best to conserve his ammunition and then looked to his right. He could see the lines of vehicles, as well as the black columns of smoke rising from the nearest six that had been destroyed in the last ten minutes.

“Yeah, that was the plan. We need to create an opening, so we can try and get out of this place.”

He looked back at the killing ground and the hundreds of flickering lights signifying the enemy that had dug in and were moving forward centimeter by centimeter. Arcs of fire crossed from both sides, but neither seemed to have much of an advantage.

“How do we do that?” asked Callahan.

The marine had taken one of the larger L56 Mark III heavy guns from a shattered gimbal mount on the bunker. It was heavy, but the slightly lower gravity on Eos made it easier to use, and the amount of fire the twin box fed, multi-barreled weapon was the equal of an entire marine squad.

“Canners!” shouted Riku with her hand extended into the distance.

Callahan tracked her hand and found the group. He pulled the trigger, and the five barrels fired one after the other, each sending a hypersonic round into the dirt, masonry, and armored bodies of the enemy. Three were cut to pieces before the other took cover. In answer to the gunfire, the warriors returned fire that slammed around the bunker.