Star Crusades Nexus: Book 05 - Prophecy of Fire (8 page)

“Got you!” she said triumphantly.

Callahan and the Lieutenant were now there and moved in to secure the prisoners. Meanwhile, Jack and his opponent were engaged in a violent fight and had moved from the floor and toward the open window.

“All units, building secure, hold your fire!” called out Lieutenant Elvidge as the two crashed out onto the balcony. The Helion was surprisingly quick and a good bit taller and larger built than the average. As they fought, the insurgent seemed to have even greater speed than Jack. They pushed apart and circled each other, just out of striking distance. The Helion muttered something and pulled back his cloak, revealing a gold colored armored breastplate with unusual marking running down it. Jack found himself staring at the design while his hooded opponent moved around him. The cloak remained around his head and shoulder, and the plated respirator and mask covered the alien’s face, making it impossible to make out any kind of facial expression.

“If you’re trying to sound tough, you’re wasting your time!” laughed Jack.

The alien struck three times in quick succession and managed to hit Jack on the shoulder blade with a hammer strike that dropped him to a knee. It wasn’t enough to slow the young marine down, and he locked the Helion’s arm and hurled him past. Anybody would have fallen, but not this one. Instead, he hit the ground, rolled, and landed back on his feet.

“Impressive.”

The other marines had already secured the machine room, but no one intervened with the personal fight between the two of them. Even so, Riku and Callahan kept their carbines ready, just in case. Jack would win one way or another. Now it was Jack’s turn to launch into a flurry of attack. He kept his guard close and his elbows tucked in while closing the distance. Each time the alien tried to defend himself, Jack struck out at his opponent’s limbs. It was slow, almost mechanical work but in less than thirty seconds, the alien fighter was suffering from the strikes to his unarmored arms. Finally, he managed to kick against Jack’s stomach and separated for a few seconds.

“Not bad, I think you can give up now.”

The alien simply laughed at his words, clicked his neck, and stretched. Jack’s face changed from amusement to annoyance, and then they were back at it. This time the alien was much more cautious, and Jack was forced to not over extend and leave himself vulnerable. The two moved about each other as they tried to strike with their hands and feet. Jack managed to land a number of blows, but each time the Helion leaned away and hit back. After a particular heavy miss by Jack, the alien slammed his knee into Jack’s stomach and followed it up with bringing his arm down onto the marine’s back.

“Enough!” roared Lieutenant Elvidge.

The Helion looked at the human officer with confusion, and Jack took the opportunity to jump back up and deliver a single powerful uppercut into the Helion’s chin. This time the alien staggered and collapsed to the ground. Jack pounced on him and rested his knee on the alien’s throat. Within seconds, the Helion was unable to breathe. Riku moved in beside him and fitted the bindings to his wrists before he could try to escape.

“Good work, everybody. Look what they were doing here,” said their Lieutenant with a measure of pride in his voice. It was only then that Jack, Riku, and Callahan gave the room a good look. Crates containing small metal devices were stacked inside, and the broken frame that would have supported a ground–based missile system lay twisted to one side with two missiles on the floor.

“What the hell is that?” asked Riku.

Callahan ran his hand along the frame, sighing to himself.

“This looks like a surface-to-air missile system to me.”

“And that’s bad, because?”

Jack closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, doing his best to calm himself. It took a few moments before he could open them.

“It’s bad because if it had been working, it could have shot down our Medevac Hammerheads.”

“Yeah,” Callahan agreed, “this place wasn’t just an ambush site. It was here to get us to abandon our vehicles and encircle the place. When support came in, they’d hit our air cover and then finish off our people on the ground.”

Lieutenant Elvidge stepped out onto the balcony and noted the smashed stone and metal from the impact of the drone Jack had sent directly into the building. There were also the bodies of the Helions that had died in the battle itself. He could see the rest of the marines in the open ground helping their own wounded and continue checking for signs of any more insurgents. Off in the distance, the shapes of the Bulldogs were slightly obscured by the recent arrival of the Hammerheads and their small units of marines and medical teams. He turned around to look at the three marines.

“Great work today. You stopped the loss of our air units and even better, by taking these guys without a major firefight, we avoided setting off of these weapons.”

He pointed at the rockets lying broken on the ground. It hadn’t even occurred to him that the rolling fight with the insurgents might have triggered the devices. The idea of them exploding with him and his comrades made him retch, and it took all of his self-control to not throw up in his helmet.

“Okay, bag them. The engineers are going to come in and sweep the area.”

Ship boarding actions became commonplace in the Great Uprising, and though no particular action stands out, there were over two hundred recorded operations conducted in the first year of the War alone. Many of the advantages of the marines, such as their superlative mobility, were lost. These actions proved to be some of the deadliest during the War and were instrumental in creating better armor and rapid firing weapons. The Alpha variant of the PDS armor and the L52 carbine both came out of experiences learned in these bloody boarding actions.

Great Battles of the Confederate Marine Corps

Teresa was in trouble, and that had nothing to do with the fact she was low on ammunition. The crash landing had killed every member of her platoon, and now she was the last marine left atop the snow covered Atoll. The burned wreckage of a crashed Marine Corps landing craft lay broken in three large sections. Around the spacecraft were scores of Biomech creatures of every shape and size. They hacked at the dead marines as if they expected them to jump to their feet at any time. One group had spotted her, and no sooner had one moved, and the rest were hurling toward her. She took aim and fired, each projectile killing one of the things with incredible precision.

Come on, die!

A dozen fell, yet more clambered over the bodies of their comrades and moved in for the kill. Her carbine seemed weak and ineffectual as she stepped back toward the edge. At this distance, she could see those at the front were identical to the beasts she had faced in the Uprising. As large as a bear, but grotesquely formed, she knew they were constructed from the shattered remains of human prisoners.

“Get back!” she screamed, but no sound left her mouth.

More of the smaller Biomechs swarmed like bugs, and she was forced to fire from the hip in a long burst that emptied her magazine. The weapon was now dry, and she hurled it at the nearest monster. The weapon struck the thing just a meter away, and again she moved back only to feel the edge of the Atoll. She glanced back and saw nothing but the great drop to nothingness.

No, not yet! I’m taking you with me.

She ripped out her knife from her side. It should have been a Marine issue combat blade, but inside it was long and curved, like the tooth from some monstrous beast. She looked at the object with fascination. It was smooth, yet the tip and edge seemed coated in a sharp layer of silver. Only the approach of more creatures tore her gaze from the object.

“This is the end!” hissed a voice from somewhere further back.

The mechanical voice sent a shiver through her body as though somebody had gently run a finger down her spine. She shuddered and adopted a solid fighting stance. Her left foot forward, knees bent, and both hands lifted as though about to box. The blade hung down in the classic ice pick grip favored by many knife fighters.

Not yet!

Two more creatures launched at her, and she hacked and stabbed, throwing their bodies over the edge. A third followed behind, but this one avoided her blow and struck her leg. The armor tore off as if only attached by thin straps, and a streak of blood appeared. The cut was deep, and it continued to strike at her with its pincer-like arms and foul head. She was close enough to see the expanded ribcage, thick muscles, and exaggerated teeth. It was like a biblical demon intent on tearing her apart.

Stab and don’t stop stabbing till its dead!

She remembered her Marine Corps training, the voice of her instructors repeated over and over in her head. Her movements and stance altered as she moved into a machine-like state where her reactions and muscle memory took over. First of all, she slashed at its neck and then as it pulled back, she sidestepped by swinging her left leg back behind her and to her right so that she twisted around. With a single firm motion, the blade stabbed backward and into the thing’s chest. That was far from the end, however, and in less than three seconds, she’d stabbed it another seven times in the same place. Her training worked well, and it was on the ground, blood oozing from a dozen wounds.

“Is that it?” she asked bitterly.

She was granted a short respite as the greatest of the beasts arrived. As came nearer, the smaller ones scattered, out of fear or reverence she couldn’t tell. This one was massive, like a demon from hell and larger than any Biomech she’d ever seen. It moved on a pair of short robotic legs and trailed a lizard like tail. Its multiple arms were spiked and barbed, and its head shrunken down and protected by metal plating. It clunked toward her with all manner of soul-destroying sounds moving with it. Teresa lifted herself back to her feet and somehow found another of the blades in her left hand. Both dripped black blood into a growing pool on the ground.

“What are you?” she tried to call out, but again there were no words.

The machine monster continued forward until it was a few meters away and then stopped. For a second it seemed the thing had broken down, but then it lowered itself by bending its legs in an impossible fashion. The center of its armored carapace opened wide, revealing a tortured human figure inside. She gazed at its blood-covered flesh until she could make out its eyes. For a second, she didn’t recognize the person.

Me?

Teresa stumbled back, one foot sliding off the ledge, and then she was falling. She looked up. The machine did nothing more than look down at her as she vanished into the blackness, her limbs flailing, and again she tried to cry out. This time a muffled sound managed to make it out, and her eyes opened to blackness.

What the hell was that all about?

The imagery was already starting to fade, and as she sat up in her bed and wiped her sweat-covered brow, the thoughts of the massive machine and its cohorts of terrifying biomechanical creatures faded from her conscious mind. She rubbed her eyes and waited for a second as they adjusted to reveal the small, very dark room. It was her quarters and once again, she had been dreaming of the creatures and monsters of her violent past.

This has got to stop. Why can’t you dream of something else for a change?

With effort, she leaned over and slid her feet out of the bed and onto the cool floor of her temporary quarters. The cold ran up through her limbs, and she shuddered before realizing she was naked bar her nightclothes. Ten minutes later, she had showered and changed into her regular Marine Corps clothing. The room was lighter now, but the lack of windows made the place feel like she was on board some ship rather than on the surface of Terra Nova convalescing. Teresa’s quarters were modest and sparsely equipped with just four rooms and little space for entertaining, not that she knew anybody on Terra Nova that she particularly wanted to spend time with. Not even General Rivers had the time these days for a few hours with an old friend. She didn’t blame him. With his promotion to Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, he was busier than ever, but she suspected he would rather be leading marines into combat, even at his advanced age.

Ah, well, what about the war?

There was, of course, no war right now, but that didn’t stop the Alliance getting involved in ground and space battles just the same. She sat at her desk and poured a glass of juice, selecting one of the many Alliance news feeds. It was her normal routine each day, and she sat there, checking on the public face of the difficulties the Alliance faced. The scrolling ticker mentioned Eos, and she selected it. The video footage of the fighting was always presented to make the events seem as exciting and sensational as possible. In this particular story, a group of marines were chasing an insurgent through rubble. A man leapt from a building, in what seemed like an impossible maneuver, and crashed into the suspected bomber. The two tumbled to the ground, and in seconds the others had reached them and hastily slapped on a set of shiny steel cuffs.