Star Crusades Nexus: Book 08 - Wrath of the Gods:

by Michael G. Thomas

  A single Earthsec ship, ESS Dauntless moved with them, as well as its protective bodyguard of four Hammerhead fighters. Though technically Alliance territory, the old moons and planets of Sol still operated with relative autonomy under the guide of Earthsec and this ship bore is distinctive marking. It was a small price to pay for peace and security in the disparate worlds of the fledgling Alliance. Though nothing compared to the fleets currently battling in the Helios System, it was still a sizable fleet to orbit a planet so recently brought under control.

  “Here they are,” said the XO.

  All attention turned to the mainscreen as another mighty flash filled with colorful light announced the arrival of yet more ships as four more craft entered Earthsec controlled space. This group was different though, as three of the ships were escorts for one of the Alliance’s most secretive projects. Even ANS Dreadnought, a powerful Battlecruiser in her own right, was dwarfed by the great monolith of ANS Warlord. The super-battleship was the only ship of her type in existence, and based upon the large number of fighters deploying around her was considered a great prize. From some angles the great ship looked similar to the Conqueror and Crusader class that she’d evolved from. There was no mistaking the massive board hull though, or the huge number of weapon systems fitted on almost every surface. Those that knew of her had heard she was as powerful as an entire squadron of Crusader class ships. Whether it was true or not, few could doubt her power upon seeing her vast shape.

  * * *

  ANS Warlord, Sol-Alpha Centauri Rift, Terra Nova

  General Rivers watched the colors flash and shudder as his view of Alliance space transformed between his eyes. As his eyes closed, he was only a short distance from Terra Nova, the capital world of the Alliance, and in the next he was over four light years away and moving toward the second oldest colonized planet ever walked on by humans.

  Here we are, Mars.

  His personal transport Mauler dropped out from one of the multiple hangar bays on the super-battleship and settled into a courier path with ANS Dreadnought, the flagship of the ongoing operation in Sol. Inside the heavily armored craft sat a small group of Alliance marines and him. The aged officer was the most senior military figure in the Alliance, and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. He was a man with as much experience fighting the Biomechs and their allies as the pinup man for the entire Marine Corps, Spartan. Many had opposed him even leaving Terra Nova, especially with the most advanced warship in service. But General Rivers was a man used to getting what he wanted, and the information he’d received in the last forty-eight hours made the journey a necessary risk as far as he was concerned. He wasn’t even supposed to be in this sector, but all he could think about was what he had seen. He looked out through one of the armored portholes at the surface of the planet and gazed upon its unusual features.

  Mars, what a place to hide under all this time.

  The lines and colors of the world were certainly interesting, though after Prometheus something like Mars paled to insignificance. Centuries earlier the world may have been of importance, now it was just another failed planet with a ruined economy and a fractured social infrastructure. General Rivers had much bigger things to concern his time with than the history of a failed world. They continued on their journey between ships, and he looked back at the video stream on the screen in front of him.

  Can it be true? Have they really found one?

  The imagery showed several combat sequences where the Biomech rebel had apparently assisted the marines. In one particular section, the machine was overwhelmed by Thegn foot soldiers before being thrown to the ground. Red armor-clad Jötnar smashed into them; a terrible melee ensuring those on both sides were torn about in bloody combat. A group of marines rushed in and helped to clear the Thegns before the battle was joined once more. The report, as well as the audio and video, confirmed in multiple mediums the stories were true. Even so, he still found it hard to believe a Biomech; one of the warlords of the enemy had decided to join them. Even more incredible was this tale of a rebellion that had brought them out to their own worlds in the distant past. He was far from convinced.

  If this is true, can we really trust him?

  The Biomech machine was a true wonder; an alien creature encased in the body of a machine that was centuries, perhaps millennia old. Its knowledge of the past must be immense, just as its technical and scientific skills would outmatch anything they currently had access to. That reminded him of exactly why he’d been granted permission to lead the small force to this rendezvous. He thought back to the last meeting over Terra Nova days before, and it filled him with anger.

  They’ve got no idea what we’re dealing with here.

  It was a slow journey, made much worse by the new reports flooding in to him from the frontlines. Out here in orbit over Mars was perhaps the furthest he could possibly be from the war. Unlike the President, however, General Rivers understood Spartan and the opportunity this Biomech offered them. He’d seen the plan, the so-called Operation Citadel, and although it was sound in its short-term scope, he had little faith in its ability to win the war. Unlike many in the civilian administration, he was more than familiar with the Biomechs principle of playing the long-term game.

  They’re not attacking out of spite on some suicidal death or glory mission. These attacks on the Helios System are just the beginning.

  The more he thought about it, the more sure he became. As he read the reports, the small vessel continued toward the waiting ship. For anybody that happened to be watching, it would have been almost impossible to spot alongside the flotilla of mighty warships as it made its way to the cavernous hangar of ANS Dreadnought. A pair of fighters, a single Hammerhead and one Lightning, flanked the Mauler. Both were veterans of the fighting at Prometheus and bore the scars of that battle with pride. General Rivers moved the imagery to one that showed the Black Rift and the mixture of ships already waiting there. He counted only Helion and T’Kari vessels, with no sign of any Khreenk or Alliance ships. The groups of ships moved about in a permanent series of orbits around the control station and its orbital defense platforms. All were waiting for trouble from either side of the Rift, and he could quite imagine the fear all of them must have been facing.

  The enemy has a fleet, just days from the Rift. They can attack whenever it suits. So why wait? Are they waiting for something on the other side, or for the fighting in the Helios System to be decided?

  He knew the most likely answer, but it wasn’t one he wanted to consider. If they were waiting, then it had to be for something to happen, an event that had yet to take place before they could act. If true, that meant it could only be something that would turn the situation even worse for the allied races.

  That’s just what we need, more problems.

  That was when he looked back at the feed of Z’Kanthu, the rebel leader. Every bone in his body told him to be wary of the machine. It had helped on Mars; yes, that was true, but how significant was that really in the scheme of things? He tried to imagine how else he could have escaped from the planet unless acting as a friend and ally to his own people.

  What if the plan is for him to do something? Perhaps attempt to activate the Rift while working alongside our own ships?

  General Rivers shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There would be little he could do until he could see the machine for himself. It was something he had to do because right now the war was not going well for the Helions, and that meant it was not going well for the Alliance. He’d already crunched the numbers with his opposite numbers amongst the other Allies, and they had all come up with the same result. It might take days, weeks, or months, but unless something drastic happened, the Helios System would fall to the Biomechs and their forces. This machine on Mars could be the catalyst that hastened their defeat, yet Spartan and Teresa’s instincts were strong, and that was the only reason he’d even contemplated coming here, let alone allowing the machine to live freely.

  What if Teresa’s assessme
nt is accurate? This could be a small army with inside knowledge of the Biomechs. It’s a war-winning asset, if it’s true.

  He rubbed his forehead and lowered the secpad, turning his attention to the ship they had now reached. The squat shape of the Mauler moved inside, and vast sliding panels dropped into place behind it. After the first layer, it then moved through the airlock shields, another set of vast doors that also resealed to allow it into the pressurized section of the ship. It settled down on its landing feet with a crunching sound and then settled.

  * * *

  ANS Dreadnought, Mars Orbit, Sol

  Teresa watched the dust cloud so carefully, one might have expected a horde of Thegns to rush out, each with their weapons raised and looking to kill and maim all that waited. Her hands were at her sides, but it was obvious she was nervous, or at the very least, extremely concerned at this arrival. A light mist of dust and vapor filled the air around the craft and partially disguised the side doors. One by one they slid open, and metal ramps dropped to the floor with a clunk. Apart from the sounds coming from the Mauler, the entire deck was silent. With its tall ceilings, it could easily accommodate the larger craft, and the Mauler looked modest compared to the space around it. The figures that emerged on the ramp were anything but. First to make contact with the metallic floor was General Rivers. Dressed in his full regalia, he looked every part the war hero. A small party waited just in front of the ramp. All but one saluted him. He stopped and looked at them, four marines and a single Jötnar warrior.

  “Spartan, I see you’ve forgotten your manners.”

  The Jötnar in the battered JAS armor laughed.

  “As always. He is Spartan, after all.”

  The General extended his hand and found it quickly grasped by Spartan, who by now had returned to civilian clothing. He wore a set of off-duty marine fatigues, but at least he’d shaved, smartened up his beard, and washed his hair. Even his artificial arm looked more civilized with most of it hidden under the clothing.

  “Always good to meet you, General. I see we’re on the losing side of another war again. Are you here to get us back on track?”

  He looked at Spartan and found himself wondering if the veteran warrior was being sarcastic or ironic. He hadn’t seen the man for some time, yet whenever they did meet, it always seemed to be on unfamiliar territory, outnumbered, and in trouble. He smiled but instead of speaking, turned to look at Teresa and his son, Captain Rivers.

  “This wasn’t quite what I was expecting when I gave authorization for your little soirée into Earthsec territory. You understand we have a war on in the Helios star system? The initial reason for your extended operation was to finish the clear up of Biomech entrenchment in Sol. The last thing we need with the war is a new threat at home.”

  Teresa sensed he was just making small talk because they were more than familiar with the situation in Helios. The General couldn’t keep his eyes away from the real prize though, no matter how hard he tried. The man sidestepped the welcome party and moved into the middle of the hall. On both sides was an entire company of Alliance marines and behind them the alien forces he’d heard so much about. He walked briskly past the first few ranks, watching the marines carefully as he went. Each wore the black and gray PDS Alpha armor and their personal weapons up to their shoulders. The group walked with him as he moved.

  “I see you’ve increased access to more variable weaponry.”

  Teresa nodded.

  “Yes, General. Every fireteam has access to at least one specialist weapon, usually the L48.”

  The old man raised an eyebrow at that.

  “Interesting, I thought the standard procedure was to phase them out, apart from the sharpshooter units?”

  Captain Rivers sensed irritation in his father’s voice.

  “Experience has shown us that the L52 isn’t always enough to get the job done. The L48 offers options in combat.”

  General Rivers tried to hide a smile and failed.

  “Very true, the L48 certainly does offer battlefield options.”

  They were now past the last rank of marines and moved across a short open space until reaching the next unit. It was enough room to place another large unit, but instead the open ground simply increased the distinction between the sides.

  “Here they are, General,” said Teresa.

  It was unnecessary, but she felt she needed to say something. This time they faced more than two hundred Biomech Thegns. He had first heard of them during the fighting on Eos, but this was the closest he’d ever been. Each waited shoulder-to-shoulder, little different to three companies of marines awaiting orders. They were motionless, waiting for their orders and nothing more. He looked at their skin, and finally curiosity got the better of him. General Rivers stopped in front of a random Thegn and touched its shoulder. The surface was a little warmer than he’d expected, yet it was hard and slightly rough to the touch.

  “It’s like elephant skin, but harder and more resilient,” said Spartan.

  Teresa pointed to the arm of the nearest Thegn.

  “We did tests on some of the dead. It is definitely their outer hide, a hybrid skin and body armour. The tech teams think it’s related to Graphene. I’m not so sure.”

  “Interesting.”

  They moved on and finally stopped at the great figure of Z’Kanthu, the Biomech warlord and commander of the new Thegn rebels. Like his foot soldiers, the great Biomech remained completely motionless. General Rivers approached and then walked around his legs. His son pointed out where the machine had sustained damage in the fighting on Mars. There were many marks and scratches, as well as clear puncture wounds from powerful weapons. The more he looked at the machine, the more he was surprised the thing was still able to move.

  “And it is still alive inside?”

  Captain Rivers nodded.

  “Yes, General. Z’Kanthu sustained heavy damage in the battle, but he has been able to make use of the freed machines to repair and improve his armor.”

  Spartan placed his hand on the machine’s thigh.

  “The speed they got to work was impressive. Hell, I wish they could have patched me up in the time they repaired this armor.”

  The General didn’t seem particularly interested, and after two full circuits around the rebel leader, stopped at its feet. Spartan could feel the eyes of the assembled marines watching them. Most of them had fought on Mars, and those that hadn’t had already heard of the machine’s skills and battle prowess from the others. Even so, he was still a Biomech, and General Rivers was the senior Alliance commander. This would be the perfect opportunity for one of them to strike, and every single person in that landing bay was thinking the same.

  “So, Z’Kanthu, that is your name, is it not?”

  The machine groaned ever so faintly as the motors and lumps of metal moved to bring his body closer to the man. The upper body lowered down half a meter and then stopped. Even while stationary, there were still almost silent hisses and whines from his armor.

  “Yes, and what is yours? From your uniform you are a senior military commander. That is not a Naval uniform. You must be a Marine officer.”

  Spartan smirked a little at the deduction, an expression the machine quickly took on board. He was already becoming used to the machine’s ability to identify, absorb, and digest even the most modest pieces of information.

  “You are a General, perhaps one of the Joint Chiefs. You can only be General Cornwallis, head of the Marine Corps, or General Rivers, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.”

  General Rivers looked to Spartan and Teresa.

  “How does he know all of this? Have you briefed him?”

  He didn’t look pleased, yet it was his son that answered.

  “No, General, when the Biomechs arrived, they tried to get to him. While escaping, he tapped into Earthsec communications and databases systems. He’s had access to all their data, plus pretty much anything else on the public databases. The names and details of all our key staff
are on public record.”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise at this and then turned back to Z’Kanthu.

  “I see. Well, let’s assume everything I have heard is the truth. What exactly are you offering us, and what do you want in return?”

  The machine faced Spartan, its eyes softening slightly in intensity before it moved its focus back on the new arrival.

  “I have merged my control architecture with the captured Core. This will give me full control of the already located and recovered soldiers. We have four complete bandon of soldiers that remained on your worlds. That gives us twelve partially operational Eques walkers, thirty-three Decurion assault machines, and three hundred Thegns. All are experienced and combat effective. Every hour we spend here increases the chances of finding more.”

  General Rivers listened as the machine rattled off the list of assets he now controlled. None of this was news to him, of course, but it was still of interest to him how the machine behaved. Teresa leaned in closer to him and spoke quietly into his ear.

  “We’ve found them space in the storage areas of the ships. They don’t need much room.”

  Even as she spoke, he found it hard not to notice the dozen red-armored Jötnar that flanked him on either side. All were veterans of the Battle for Prometheus, and now Mars. There were probably few other Jötnar that could claim to have seen so much action in a matter of weeks. Their PDS Alpha armor looked as similar as it was different to the model used by the regular marines. That was when the odd realization hit him.