Star Crusades Nexus: Book 06 - Call to Arms (3 page)

“Are you sure you want them in your unit?” asked the General.

Teresa extended her hand to Olik, but as he reached for it, she slipped past and struck him in the cheek with a strong punch. The impact shook his head, and he spat out a tooth to the ground while she nursed her throbbing fist. General Cornwallis stepped back and lowered his hands, trying to calm things down.

“Colonel, what the hell are you doing?”

Olik began to laugh. As his voice became louder, so did that of the other Jötnar. Four more of them moved to greet her, but this time it was just the gabbing of arms or pulling each other in tightly. The General looked to T’Kron who gave him the most curious of smiles.

“They are an unusual race, are they not?”

The General shook his head and then walked away, only turning to say one last thing as he left.

“Colonel, we have an urgent meeting with the Admiral in fifteen minutes. I will see you there.”

With that, he wandered off, still shaking his head. T’Kron moved closer to the Jötnar and tilted his head slightly before introducing himself. Olik extended his hand but did no more than shake the Jötnar’s fist.

“T’Kron, I have heard much about you from my brothers. We have bled for each other on the battlefield. It is good to meet you.”

“And you, Olik, your kin are famed among my people. Your mercenaries have never failed a mission.”

The group moved on while Olik and Teresa discussed news of Hyperion. Their short walk took them far away from the landing platform and to the side of the massive space dock. Teresa couldn’t help but be impressed at the sight of the ship in the background that was being worked on. Finally, the entire group stopped to gaze at the gleaming metal. As far as she could tell, it was close to completion. T’Kron noticed her looking and nodded with interest.

“You like the ship?”

“It looks different to normal,” said Olik.

T’Kron pointed to the prow of the ship where a battery of tubes were fitted. Teresa looked at its outline but couldn’t place it. Most of it looked similar to a civilian liner, yet more storage segments were being fitted out with weapon mounts and additional sensor suites.

“Anderson told us about the Tamarisk, a civilian ship that was equipped with armor and hidden weapons.”

Teresa nodded. She was of course far more than a little acquainted with the idea. She had been part of the rescue mission led by Anderson, back when Spartan and General Rivers had been imprisoned on board the planet.

“Tamarisk, that was a good ship.”

Olik looked at the shape with fascination.

“I’ve seen this ship before. Isn’t it one of the ancient T’Kari transports?”

T’Kron seemed pleased.

“Yes. We have worked alongside Alliance engineers and technicians to create a new type of ship for use in the Alliance. These are medium size, high-speed transports that are quick and cheap to replicate.”

“With what purpose in mind?” Teresa inquired.

T’Kron looked at her and then pointed at the weapon mounts.

“Admiral Anderson proposed the specification over a year ago. They are a…well…a creative solution to a problem.”

Teresa knew immediately what the Admiral was doing, and also to what problem T’Kron was referring. The President had little interest in raising taxes to build more ships or expanding the fleet. The cost of running the existing Heavy Strike Groups was already proving more than most colonies wanted to support, and if he pushed any harder, he would simply be forced out of office and replaced by whomever offered to lower public spending.

This is his solution.

T’Kron pointed back at the waiting vessels.

“These ships are designed to provide a civilian, as well as a military capability. By combining technology from your ships and ours, we’ve come up with something that is more than capable of defending themselves. They have a similar transport capacity to your old smaller troop transports and can carry over two hundred soldiers or equivalent cargo.”

Teresa seemed impressed at what he had to say so far. She started to speak but then put her hand over her mouth, as though stopping herself.

“What is it?” asked T’Kron.

“Well, do we need more transports? The Crusader class is already working just fine. I can see private industry wanting to hire these ships; I assume at a price that will benefit the Alliance?”

“Of course. These ships are very cheap. We will recoup our return in less than three years operation of each vessel.”

Teresa didn’t seem quite so impressed now that she knew more.

“They are not warships though, so what is the point?”

T’Kron walked off to the right of the ship so as to get a better view of the rear of the vessel. He indicated toward the large, yet sleek engine nacelles that were attached just a few meters from the hull itself.

“These ships cannot carry fighters, but they can transport two Avenger drones, with one in each of the flank nacelles. They are as fast and as heavily armed as a T’Kari cruiser, with a mixture of railguns and missiles that can be installed by dropping out the three cargo modules and replacing them with combat modules. This will free up warships and provide additional numbers in times of war.”

He lifted his secpad, one that was Alliance issue she noticed, and slid his hand across it.

“If you would check your workspace?”

Teresa looked at him and then remembered her own device. She pulled it out and examined the schematics that T’Kron had just sent her. The main image showed a top down view of the ship with a ladder type chassis fitted around three large square spaces.

“Those are the module spaces. It takes under three hours to change one of them. So far, we have cargo, troop, railgun, and missile modules. Each one is self-contained and quickly replaced here or at any configured Alliance base.”

Teresa tried to hide a smile, but Olik spotted it. To her surprise, he said nothing.

This was a smart move by Anderson. He plans to increase the size of the fleet through the back door. It is probably too little, too late though.

“When will it be ready?” she asked.

T’Kron looked confused.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when will the first of these ships be ready?”

T’Kron understood and did his best to hide the look of pride from his face.

“The Prometheus shipyards have been very busy, Colonel. This ship is number fifty-two, and one is coming off the assembly line every four days.”

Teresa did the math in her head and was shocked at the number.

“That’s ninety ships a year.”

“What are you calling them?” asked Olik.

T’Kron pointed to three large compartments being moved off to the other side of the massive hangar where a line of machines waited to work on them. It was a production line that made the warship lines look modest in comparison.

“They are called Liberty ships, and each one takes the name of a town or city in the Alliance.”

The Centauri Alliance experienced a seismic shift in both power and size following its adventures into the Nexus. The new colonies at Epsilon Eridani, Gliese 876, Procyon, and T’Karan increased resources at an exponential rate. Though the worlds of the Seven Star Systems were the least advanced of the known races, they were already becoming some of the most important. Colonists and private enterprise continued what the Alliance exploration fleets had started.

Rise and Fall of Interstellar Empires

The sterile surface of Earth looked nothing like Spartan had expected. Throughout his life he’d come across images, paintings, and stories about the lush surface rich oceans and mighty cities that marked the birthplace of humanity. It saddened him a little to think of what it must have been like before it was plundered and exploited. He didn’t have the numbers to hand, but he was certain the population had at one point exceeded ten billion. Now the population of Earth and Mars combined was less than sixty million.

What a waste of time.

The view from the triple-layered windows was out across a low valley. It had probably in the past been green, and fields with grasslands and forests. Now the surface was ashen, with dust, weed, and scrawny looking plants that somehow managed to survive in the mildly toxic environment. He looked down to where Khan and Lieutenant Jenkins waited.

"What was this place?"

Khan shrugged while Lieutenant Jenkins spoke with the other three Earthsec guards. Khan didn’t seem to like the look of any of the group of men, not even the Lieutenant.

"We're on one of the last military bases in what was Europe. We still use it as a transit point for the high orbit platforms."

"Europe?" asked Khan.

Spartan smiled and looked back out through the windows.

"Yeah, Europe. I've heard of the place. Way back, well before we sent the first ships to Alpha Centauri, this world was filled with countries. I think Europe was one of the oldest."

"You're close," said a stern voice.

Spartan looked down to see a captain in the same uniform as the other men. He looked at Spartan with unflinching eyes and no glimmer of a smile. Spartan had met so many men and women like him, and they always left him feeling a little cold. Of all officers, these were the type to send you on those missions with little chance of coming home. It was his words that surprised him most. There was something familiar about them, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Was it a region he had visited or was it somebody he knew?

Marcus, yeah, it has to be.

The accent was definitely similar to that of his old friend Marcus. The tall warrior had trained alongside him and been a good friend when he’d been a lowly grunt in the Corps. It was a long time since he’d given any thought to Marcus, and it took a moment for him to even remember what he looked like. As the image darted behind his eyes, he felt a pang of guilt at having forgotten him for so long. It made him wonder who else he’d pushed away over the years. Luckily, the officer continued to speak in that cold, dispassionate tone.

He's a hard one.

"This is indeed part of Europe, but you are on one large island, what used to be called the United Kingdom. This is one of the few remaining military bases that survived the exodus. Originally, it was all above ground; now ninety-five percent of the base is below the surface."

Spartan let out a slow breath but said nothing. He'd come across similar places on other worlds before. It was common to build habitation facilities deep underground on worlds that were prone to orbital bombardment. It was the structures on the surface that made the place stand out, and he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. The officer saw his confusion and mistook it for his knowledge of the planet itself.

"In the nineteenth century, back when military might was based around wooden sailing ships and gunpowder weapons, this island was at its peak. Yes, there were other empires, but the United Kingdom ruled the largest empire ever seen on Earth. Its ships traveled the oceans, and its language and technology traveled with it. The language we now speak comes directly from them."

"English?" asked Spartan, now even more confused.

The man bared his teeth a little, and Spartan could only assume he was trying to smile. It reminded him of when Gun had tried to do the same soon after they'd met. Back then, his command of language had been worse than a child's.

"English, yes, the name of the people that inhabited the largest part of this United Kingdom.

"What happened to them?"

The man lifted his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Nothing much different to the rest of this planet. When Earth became almost sterile, so did its people. The population fell, and those that could, left with everything they owned. All that remains now are the underground cities and military sites. There are no countries anymore, and the surface is littered with the remains of civilization spanning thousands of years.”

Spartan started to move, but the man shook his head and nodded in the direction of the glass to one side of the dome.

“That is south. You’ll see the debris in the indentation ahead, which was an old road system from ground cars. What can you see beyond that?”

Spartan didn’t like playing these games, but a twinge in his leg encouraged him to stay in the dome section for a little longer. The road was difficult to identify, being as it was the same featureless color and covered in a thick layer of tough weeds and plants.

How the hell does anything grow anymore?

“Can you see it yet?”

Spartan shrugged. There was nothing of note outside of the military base. He scanned the horizon but saw nothing other than a slight indulation. There was something between the road and the horizon though; an odd shape and it forced him to squint before stopping.

“Wait, there is something out there. It looks like a rock wall?”

The man nodded as if pleased by his find. Spartan was not amused though and moved down from the observation dome that extended from underground to provide a few of the dead surface. As he did so, he wondered quite why anybody living on Earth would ever want to see the surface again. He’d seen prettier places on the fiery world of Prometheus, after all.

And now these fools think they can manage out here, and on their own.

Khan and Lieutenant Jenkins waited patiently for him as he reached the lowest rung of the ladder. It took him longer than it should have, but that was understandable due to his missing limb and painful muscles. He landed next to the officer and winced as a burst of pain rushed up his leg.

“So, what about that place?”

The man looked back into the tunnel and then to Spartan.

“It is the remains of an ancient city wall, one that was built in the fifth century.”

Spartan knew he should have been impressed, but he wasn’t. A broken wall, and thousands of years old on a sterile world, meant little to him.

Perhaps for archaeologists or historians, but not for me.

All he’d seen was a modest structure to position several heavy weapons or a foundation for a fortification of some kind. He looked at the man and wondered what would have persuaded such a man to join Earthsec. It wasn’t an organization he’d known a huge amount of, although his company had dealings with them prior to his disappearance. His gut instinct told him they were ultra-conservative and jealously guarded access to their own domain. Technically, they were Alliance, but none of them seemed to believe it.

"Your voice, it sounds like somebody I knew. He was from a colony of Earth settlers."

"We are all of Earth, my friends.”

Spartan exhaled slowly, particularly unimpressed at this comment.

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

Khan chuckled in amusement, the sound rumbling in the underground room.

The man looked away from Spartan but kept one eye on him as though assessing him.

“You’re from where exactly, Spartan?”

Spartan smiled and pointed up.

“From up there.”

The man didn’t seem amused at that, something that greatly amused Spartan.

“Your file is interesting, but it lacks a certain detail prior to an incident on Prometheus. Everything before that has been redacted, why?”

Spartan looked at him, took in a short breath, and then changed the subject.

“Your voice. Tell me about it.”

“You mean accent?” answered the officer.

Spartan just nodded, but he could feel an anger building inside him. This man felt his was superior in every way, yet he lived on a derelict wasteland. Earth was death and disease, a planet that had been abandoned for good reason. The man seemed unaffected by Spartan’s manners.

“In the past, my people were from Northern Germany, part of Europe."

He pointed to the dome at the top of the ladder.

"Like this place, it is no longer a country, just another wasteland with a few isolated underground settlements."

One of the men walked away and disappeared into one of the many passages that seemed to spring up in every direction underneath the military base. The lighting was far more sedate than expected, and it was beginning to hurt Spartan’s head as he strained his eyes. That combined with the aching in his body made him feel ancient.

Man, you’re not in good shape, are you?

Khan seemed to be thinking the same as he raised one of his large eyebrows and laughed. Lieutenant Jenkins was unsure as to what was going on. The banter between the two was something that was inaccessible to anybody else, even though he had spent time sweating and possibly bleeding alongside Spartan back in the War.

“Spartan, you’re looking old.”

He dropped down next to the massive warrior and punched him right in the stomach. There was little visible effect on the warrior, but it did stop the laughter.

“Maybe. I can still kick your ass though.”

Khan looked to him and wondered if that were true. It was a thought that seemed to consume him and push out all other thoughts. More importantly, the idea of a fight with Spartan seemed to brighten his usually dour expression.

“What are you so pleased about?” Spartan asked.

Khan smirked.

“Just daydreaming.”

The officer tapped his temple and spoke quietly, looking at Spartan.

“The Governor will see you now.”

He bowed just a little and indicated to his left, into a darker one of the many passageways.

“About damned time,” grumbled Khan.

Spartan moved on, and Khan followed right behind. The route took only a brief moment, but he counted six more guards before they reached the surprisingly small door. Spartan approached but found his way blocked by the final two guards. One turned to face him, purposely putting himself in the way.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said sarcastically.

Spartan had done his best to hide his impatience and irritation at these so-called officers. He didn’t bother to stop and simply smashed his knee into the man’s stomach. The impact was short and savage and sent the man to the ground. Spartan pulled on the handle and walked inside. The second guard tried to make a show of stopping him, but Khan was next. The massive figure of the warrior instantly encouraged the man to stand aside, which he sensibly did.

“Smart choice,” Khan said.

Once inside, the door slid shut and cut them off from the corridor. The room was spacious. Spartan was confused but only for a moment. The room was easily the size of a training hall yet contained nothing but a large stainless steel desk. The walls were filled with cavernous windows that looked out onto the wasteland of Earth.

“Spartan, and Khan I presume?” asked the man seated behind the desk.

Spartan nodded, but Khan did nothing.

“Thank you for coming down to meet me. I am Governor Trelleck.”

He indicated for them to sit down in the chairs provided, but it was immediately clear that Khan was much too big to use them.

“I don’t think so,” he muttered at the suggestion.