Star Crusades Nexus: Book 06 - Call to Arms (2 page)

Just the mention of the word ‘machine’ sent a hushed chill though the group.

“What’s the plan?” asked the youngest of the marines, interrupting the quiet.

Wictred didn’t even know his name, and after the fighting retreat of the last three days, he really didn’t want to know. Back then they had numbered more than fifty. Now the Captain was gone, along with the last two officers and NCOs. He was it, and he didn’t like it. Like his kin in the Alliance, Wictred wore the latest Jötnar Assault Suit armor that seemed to bulk up his already substantial form considerably. Even though he was smaller than the average, Wictred was still massive compared to a normal marine.

“According to our maps, there is a Helion town seven klicks from here. We should get there and report in to the NHA,” he said, pointing out to the right of where the burned out vehicles sat.

“What about the radiation though, are you sure it’s safe to leave this place?” asked the young marine for what must have been the tenth time.

Wictred opened his helmet visor and spat on the ground.

“How many times must I tell you? Alliance nukes are neutron weapons. They kill fast, and the radiation vanishes in a matter of hours. If you survived the bombardment and the fallout, then you have a chance.”

“Yeah, he’s right,” said the gruff engineer with the dented breastplate.

“The half-life on those things is ridiculously small. They’re designed to clear areas ready for ground assault.”

“How?” asked the young marine.

The engineer shook his head in annoyance.

“Kid, didn’t they teach you anything? Neutron bomb the place and wipe out their ground force ready for assault. Three hours after the attacks, the infantry move in and mop up.”

Wictred nodded as the man spoke.

“That’s right. They stopped using them a long time ago. It must have been a last resort option.”

It was of little comfort to the others though, especially the two marines whose armour had been penetrated during the bombardment. Wictred could see the woman, a young private who’d been hit four times in the chest. Incredibly, the armor had saved her life, but it had broken the external seals and let in clouds of radioactive dust that did their damage before the radiation could dissipate. Wictred knew they would be dead in a matter of days.

She’ll be dead soon. Better for her to die with a rifle in her hands than like that. It’s a cruel way to die.

He looked away from them and in the direction of the promised town. The fact the Alliance fleet had launched such a heavy bombardment as they left told him everything he needed to know; that the battlefield had been lost for now, and anybody still living there was on borrowed time. He felt no guilt at lying. There was little point in telling them the truth. They were hundreds of kilometers from any known town, and the enemy was coming for them.

I will give them a death, one that is worthy of their sacrifices.

He ground his teeth at the enormity of what he planned on doing and then made his plans.

We'll find whatever is left of these Biomechs, and we will reduce them to ash before our time is done.

* * *

The heat from Prometheus warmed the interior of the Mauler as it circled over the landing zone. The surface was primarily thick rock, but in places molten metal ran in rivers from the scores of volcanoes littering its surface. At first glance the world looked impossible to house anything but an incinerator, yet careful scrutiny would reveal a hive of activity in a dozen locations. This planet was the home of one of the largest research bases, engineer outposts, and naval shipyards in the entire Alliance.

“Hold on, we’re moving into our landing pattern,” said the pilot.

The Mauler altered its thrusting pattern and moved from its slow circling pattern and onto the correct approach vector for the angled blast doors. They were fitted directly into the side of a massive cliff that reached nearly three kilometers up from the surface. Out in the distance, vast plumes of black smoke filled the red sky, and the telltale flashes of yellow and orange marked the burning of the volcanoes. Teresa looked at the screen that showed a frontal view from the craft as they closed in. She wasn’t the only person on board, but she was the senior Marine Corps officer. More importantly, she had detailed knowledge of the base. A handful of the officers from the battalion had also joined her for the visit.

Anderson must have been made to expand this place,
Teresa thought.

Back in the War, the enemy had carved out a number of secret research bases, right under the nose of the authorities. These had been the backbone of their efforts to strip organs and tissue from human captives to create Biomech monstrosities. It had been just the start of the horrors they would encounter, and she had never forgotten what she’d seen.

“Outer doors activating.”

The surface hangar hatch opened up and released a great cloud of dust into the air. These weren’t dust particles of dirt though; the surface of the planet burned hot, and the cloud of super-heated dust could have easily torn away the outer plating of any craft unfortunate to be close enough. The cloud obscured most of the multiple defense turrets fitted around the plated doors, but only a fool would try to bypass them without proper authorization.

“Just a few more seconds,” said the pilot. “Entering Alliance authorization now.”

The codes varied depending on the vessel, and this particular one was for the Alliance Navy. It took nearly thirty seconds for the code to be assessed and compared to the ship status and description. Even as they waited, the turret tracked the craft and aimed at the center of Mauler. It was obvious to all inside that they could be dead in a microsecond if the inhabitants of the base doubted their intentions.

“Prometheus Research Facility access granted.”

The Alliance Mauler was one of the most advanced and dependable vessels in the Alliance inventory, yet even a Mauler would be vulnerable to such a blast. It waited for a moment to let the entrance clear and used its reversed engines to maintain height. Pintle mounted lamps lit up the ground below the Mauler and showed nothing but rocks and marker lights. After what must have seemed like an age, the craft lowered itself gingerly toward the wide entrance and then moved inside. The thick doors slid into place behind them, and the craft went down into the vast tunnels that had been burned into the bedrock of the planet. It was one of the smaller access points to the base and one of the most heavily guarded.

Back again,
she thought.

Prometheus looked just as Teresa remembered it. The world was hard, impenetrable, and pounded by heat and meteorites on a regular basis. From space it looked like a barren rock, but she knew better than most what lurked inside. The memories of her time on the planet filled her with an odd mixture of dread and nostalgia.

“Welcome to Prometheus,” the pilot announced.

Teresa was sure she could pick up the sarcasm in the man’s voice. There was little to like about the place, but it was hard to argue about the value of the site. They moved through the tunnel and into a massive landing area that she suspected could easily house a vessel the size of a heavy cruiser. The Mauler lowered itself until finally dropping down inside a ring of blue beacons. Within seconds of making contact, the doors hissed open and thick, warm air blasted inside. Teresa uncoupled herself, moved to the doorway, and looked out.

“Colonel,” said a familiar voice.

She moved onto the ramp and stepped down to stop in front of the tall T’Kari.

“T’Kron?”

He smiled at her and replied through his translators.

“I am here at the request of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.”

General Rivers.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, “I thought you were with reinforcements for T’Karan?”

“That’s a good point, T’Kron. We were hit coming through the Spacebridge. Only one ship made it through.”

It took a moment for his translators to do their work, but once done, his expression changed from a relaxed smile to a tense look.

“That is bad news. My exiles are spread thin at the moment. We do not have the forces for T’Karan on our own.”

Teresa raised an eyebrow.

“You think the Biomechs will try and take the colonies in T’Karan?”

T’Kron nodded.

“Yes. Even with the Jötnar barracks on Luthien, it will be difficult. The Prophecy speaks of a great devourer that will swallow Helios and then every world. Helios has already put out the call, and all available ships are heading for its defense.”

Teresa had seen the reports, as well as the lists of ships from the many races that had been sent to bolster the world’s defenses. At first she had given little thought to the general strategy of the enemy, but as she listened to T’Kron, her mind began to explore other alternatives. He continued to speak before finally stopping and watching at her. She noticed him and apologized, looking at him sheepishly.

“I’m sorry. Where were you?”

T’Kron was unfazed by her lack of attention.

“You were thinking of the enemy? You have other ideas for them?”

Teresa was used to their speed of thought and well-trained and logical minds. Even so, she was still surprised to see that her thinking process was so transparent to them.

“Yes. I have concerns.”

T’Kron indicated for her to walk with him a little further along the vast hangar space.

“Tell me, please.”

Teresa looked at the ship being built and recalled the awful creatures and carnage that had occurred on this uncomfortably hot planet.

“The Biomechs. We know they are a hybrid race of biomechanical creatures that were treated almost as gods on their worlds.”

“Yes, that is true. Before they made contact with us, the Helions and the others, they ruled over many domains. Their experiments in biomechanics repulsed all of us though. Before our terrible war, we learned that all of them were hundreds, and some even thousands of years old.”

“So what is their end game?” asked Teresa.

T’Kron didn’t quite understand the terminology and had to check his own records before answering.

“We have never worried too much about this. Mere survival against the Machine Gods was enough.”

Teresa shook her head.

“No, we know they attempted to dominate your race, along with the others. There’s no reason to think they do not want to finish this. The question is, how?”

“I might have a few ideas about that.”

Teresa recognized the voice and turned about to see the gruff old figure of General Cornwallis, the Chief of Defense for the Alliance Marine Corps. She only met him briefly before, but his voice and upper class accent were hard to forget.

“General, what are you doing here?”

A number of other senior officers gathered around them while others continued on along the designated pathways to the central hub of the base. He spoke with a junior officer and sent him off on an errand before continuing to speak with her.

“General Rivers’ strategy is to split our forces, with half defending our key territories here and in T’Karan while and the remainder are heading to Helios. I’m here to assist Admiral Anderson in implementing this new plan.”

“Teresa Morato?” asked a brusque voice.

It could easily have been that of a large man, but when she twisted her head, she spotted the oversized shapes of a large group of Jötnar lurking about near a shuttle. One of them had broken away and was heading toward her.

“Olik?” she asked with surprise.

The older looking Jötnar approached close enough to reveal a hideous face with multiple cuts along one side of it. She was sure a number of the marks were new. The last time she’d seen him, he had been fully armored; he looked much smaller without all the metal attached to his body.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Olik moved to the side of the General and nodded rather than saluted, much to his annoyance.

“Colonel Morato, may I present your Jötnar platoon.”

He turned and bowed in as grand a manner as he could manage. A number of the Jötnar nearby saw him and struck their chests in mock salute.