Star Crusades

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Indeed. And they’re not firing.”

  He ran his fingers through his beard once more and then reached for the intercom.

  “This is the Captain. We are dead in the water and with the enemy at our door. Arm and armour yourselves for the coming battle.”

  “Captain,” said a stunned Commander Campbell, “We cannot defend this ship.”

  “No.” He reached down and checked for his sidearm, “I have another idea.”

  His eyes looked to the rest of the crew.

  “This fight isn’t over yet, not by a long shot. We’ll do what they would never expect.”

  He looked to his pistol and gently shook his head.

  “Never once did I think I would be called on to use it.”

  “What is the plan?” Commander Campbell asked.

  The Captain nodded towards the alien ship.

  “Help is coming. We just need to hold on a little longer. So we’re taking the fight to their ship.”

  “Captain? You mean to board her?”

  “Exactly. They’ll never expect it.”

  “What about the ship?”

  “If we can’t have her, nobody will. Chief, I need a silent timer for detonation.”

  “You want to kill her?”

  “It’s not what I want to do, it’s what I have to do.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “And comms. Send out a passive tracker buoy with our logs and data. Fleet will come looking for us. Let’s make their job as easy as we can.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Martian Moon Deimos, Sol System

  Valentine knew she was half asleep, and she knew that it was time to wake. She’d been back to this place nine times now over the last months here, and the surgeries had left her feeling numb to the damage throughout her body. She was so used to the feelings that she found it difficult to tell pain from pleasure anymore, with it simply registering as a stimulus, and little more. She had no idea if she’d been here for hours, days, or weeks.

  Tell me this is the last time? This is too much.

  Her Cortex was offline, but she’d spent enough time in and out of different realities and connecting up to different equipment to know what her body and mind was now doing. For some the transition between forms was close to a nightmare, but for her it was little different to putting on a change of underwear. But this time was different, and she knew it. The nightmares of the last days were slowing her recovery, and the sights and smells of the battle too much to take for much longer. She could smell and taste the smoke and fire all around her. Her throat felt dry and raspy, and she started to choke.

  “Lance Corporal, hold on,” said a nearby voice.

  One eye began to open, and Valentine could almost feel the relief of returning to the real world. But then Valentine spotted her, and everything changed. Since becoming a Nova she had learned to shut off control of her body as needed, a useful ability in combat or when injured, but also important when it came to removing and reattaching various body parts.

  Jane!

  A confusing battle raged, but she barely acknowledged the fighting, and looked directly towards the bloodied face of Corporal Jane Bennett. Bennett was one of the few people she’d befriended on the moon, and Valentine knew she had to help her. But as she looked to her, the background shifted and then transformed to the interior of a ship. For a second it was dark and unfamiliar, but then it changed again, and there before her was a face she knew only too well.

  Father!

  He was a middle-aged man, dressed in a smart suit that bore bloodstains on the shoulder. And in his hand a firearm, though he was clearly unused to holding it. Shapes were moved towards him as he shouted to others nearby. Some fired, while the others fled. The man shouted once more, and then turned back to face the nameless shadows. He lifted his weapon, and it failed to fire.

  “Stay back!” Valentine screamed, but the man ignored her.

  He took a step forward, and the battlefield shifted to the icy cold tunnels of the Martian moon. She screamed again, but then Corporal Bennett ignored her. There were Ski’ligs all about, but one grew larger and brighter by the second. Like some great demon from the deep, it tore apart all of those who came close while increasing in power with each hit it sustained. She could see other Novas blasting away or charging at it with melee weapons. Then came a flash, and all of them were down.

  No, not again.

  Valentine reached out to stop her, but Jane slipped through her fingers and ran at the monstrous beast with something in her hands. Valentine knew it was a military pack filled with explosives and ammunition. Many of the soldiers had carried similar as they moved deeper underground and mined the various tunnels and entrances. And then it happened exactly as the other hundred times she had seen it.

  No. Not again. No!

  The wounded Corporal leapt upwards and threw her arms around the great beast. Her clothing and sections of armour hissed as they were burnt against its nearly molten skin. She was still there even as she suffered hideous injuries against the living sun. And then as quickly as she’d charged forward, she was gone. Valentine wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. Something kept her looking directly ahead as the pack detonated with a devastating flash. It blinded Valentine and threw her backwards through the air. She knew the impact would be hard, but even as her body braced, it was not enough to stop the air from being blasted from her body. And as she lay there amidst the smoke and destruction, she knew she had failed, and once more her friend had sacrificed herself to end the battle.

  She blinked, and the view shifted to the interior of the ship, a ship that she knew deep down had been lost with all hands decades ago. She was on the ground surrounded by bodies. Valentine tried to move, but it was not her body. A discarded thermal shotgun lay nearby, and as she reached for it, a creature grabbed her leg and pulled her away. She knew who it was, and struggle as she might there was nothing she could do.

  “No!” she screamed.

  “Lance Corporal!”

  Valentine opened her eyes, and at once felt a pulse of pain through her body. The light from inside the medical bay was in stark contrast to that experienced inside the tunnel battlefield of the moon.

  “I’m here,” she said weakly.

  The figure in front began to take form, and then she smiled at seeing the heavily scarred form of a Jötnar leaning in closer. His people were a rarity enough as it was, but out here among the old worlds of Sol, it was even more rare. At his side was a medic, who then leaned in closer to her.

  “Lance Corporal. Your tests are all in the green, and the final grafts are holding. They will be painful, but you will be back to…well, normal in a few more days. Your trauma is another matter. It is my recommendation you return home for a period of rest.”

  A smile spread over her face, and the doctor appeared confused. She turned to the officer standing at her side.

  “Is everything okay? She does understand, doesn’t she? The only thing that can heal her mind is time. We can only do so much.”

  The officer spoke, but Valentine could not make him out. Instead, she struggled to remove the thoughts of the violence from her mind and concentrated on her body. The doctor then left, even as Valentine lay there with a dazed look to her face. She looked up at the officer and blinked twice.

  “Captain?”

  The old warhorse smiled, bearing his chipped oversized teeth at her.

  “Lance Corporal Valentine. So…you did manage to stay alive this time.”

  “This time? How many times have I died, Sir? In my mind, or in reality?”

  He laughed and then pulled himself back upright. She could see he was currently unarmoured and could identify numerous injuries he had sustained over the years. Jötnar were infamous for getting involved in impossible battles, and as she thought back, she couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen an unharmed Jötnar before.

  “Does it matter?”

  That was a question that seemed much harder to answer tha
n she realised. Yes, she had died in combat the first time, but there were at least two other occasions where she was technically dead. But then came the dreams, the flashbacks, and the memories. And death, those seemed no less real.

  “I…uh…I really can’t tell anymore, Sir.”

  “I thought so,” said Captain Olik, “You’ve died too many times, Lance Corporal.” He glanced off to his right, and then looked back down at her, “Your injuries have been patched, and your replacement components fabricated and repaired. Is there any more they can do for you here? It’s been what, nearly nine months and many visits.”

  He then tapped the side of his head.

  “And the nightmares. They are of the siege?”

  Valentine nodded slowly.

  “Partially. Some go back much further. To when my...”

  She tried to say more but then shook her head.

  “My body needed time to heal. I should have been out of there in three months, tops. But apparently the few of us left fighting sustained the worst lung damage.”

  Just saying it brought back the taste, and it almost made her retch.

  “The gas caused…”

  She stopped upon remembering that he had been there, right alongside her.

  “What about you? I saw you wounded many times.”

  He shrugged as though she was talking about getting a good soaking during a rainstorm.

  “Jötnar were built to sustain damage. It’s nothing a few months off the frontline couldn’t fix.”

  Without thinking, she pulled away the covering over her body to find she was naked underneath. She gasped, but not at the sight of her nakedness, but by the damage she had sustained more recently. Her limbs were artificial, but she could see skin grafts from her thigh running up to her left breast. A line of studs marked where the combat surgeons had done their work, and it was going to leave a mark, even after many years.

  “Wow,” she said in mock surprise, “After all this time, you’d think I’d be shocked.”

  Olik grunted but said nothing.

  “Give it a little longer, and there won’t be much more of me left.”

  “Knaprig said the same thing years ago.”

  “Knaprig?”

  “One of my kin,” he said with a sigh, “Back in the War, me, Osk, Khan, Knaprig, and Gun would stand side by side against the Biomechs. We were an unstoppable juggernaut of Jötnar warriors, eager for combat and revenge against our old masters. Knaprig and Osk married and commanded the Red Watch on Prometheus. Now they are the guardians of that world.”

  “I didn’t know Jötnar married.”

  “A custom we learned from your people.” He said with a smile, “Knaprig sustained terrible damage in battle against the Biomechs, edge weapon injuries all over his body, but it was worse than that.”

  He nodded towards Valentine’s arms.

  “He lost both arms at the end of the war, as well as significant damage to his spine. We could have used tech on Taxxu to rebuild them, but he refused. So now he has mounts much like yours at the shoulder. Knaprig was the first of the heavily augmented warriors.”

  “I never knew that. You were close?”

  “Yes. In those days it was us, Spartan, and Teresa against the galaxy. I would see those days return. Now Teresa is gone, and Spartan and Khan have vanished, perhaps never to come back.”

  “I fear you may see those days again. There’s more to be fought over than simply the Ski’ligs. I sense a struggle is coming to us, one for the soul of the Alliance.”

  Olik lifted an eyebrow and then grinned.

  “I look forward to it.”

  Valentine swung her artificial legs over the side of the bed and let the feet settle on the floor. She could feel the coolness as it was registered by the skin sensors, and then sent as signals through her central nervous system to her brain.

  “I assume you’re not here to check on my condition, Sir?”

  “I’m checking on all of my lance leaders. But you’re not completely wrong. I do have other reasons. You are one of my most experienced half-lance leaders, and I need you in action, and soon. The medics tell me you need more time to heal, and that you should be sent home.”

  He licked his lower lip before saying more.

  “If you need this, tell me. I have already sent back nearly a fifth of our wounded to be treated on Sol. Many more are recovering from the effect of the Ski’ligs on their minds. They have inflicted a trauma far worse than mere physical wounds.”

  He nodded to himself as he recalled some distance memory.

  “I saw the same looks on the face of those who fought the Biomech constructs. Even those that fought against my people.”

  He then sighed.

  “The first of my kind were not synthetic like me, but reconstructed from the matter torn from the very prisoners the Biomechs had taken…”

  He stopped as he realised what he was saying.

  “Of course, your father. My apologies, Lance Corporal, that was…”

  “It’s okay, Sir. That was a long time ago. I’m just here for the fighting. You can count on me. These treatments are just to get me back on my feet.”

  He smiled, and then moved closer.

  “And your dreams? What about the flashbacks?”

  Valentine swallowed, and he could see the instant change in her demeanour. The cockiness and confidence slid away, revealing a vulnerability he had seen before.

  “They’re still there, Sir. But it won’t stop me.”

  “I know,” he said slowly, “We all have those moments. Returning to a place of calm is not weakness, Lance Corporal Valentine. Even my people seek respite from war. Thousands of my kin now live on Hyperion, an oasis compared to the warzones they have seen. And they deserve it, every one of them.”

  He did his best to smile before taking a step away.

  “War is here, and if you’re up for another fight, there’s a place for you. Think about it, though. If you need space, you’ll have it.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Captain Olik spotted movement near the door, nodded, and turned away from her. Valentine looked off to the right where she could see robotic Mules moving in a column through the interior of the base. She noticed Olik speaking with several others. Finally, they separated, and two Novas appeared at the open door to the medical bay. They were fully equipped with combat limbs and attachments, though they carried only limited weaponry on them. Acting Corporal Alexis Kleinlercher was there, along with Private Hawkins, and they both looked surprisingly eager.

  “Well?” Alexis asked.

  “Well, what?”

  “Your tests, Valentine.” Alexis shook her head.

  “I…uh.”

  “She fell asleep again,” said Hawkins with a chuckle, “It’s these comfy beds, right?”

  “I’m doing fine. Skin grafts are good, spinal repairs finished, and…well, the rest of me is back to normal.”

  “Good,” said Alexis, “Let’s go. I need you back with the unit.”

  Valentine finished pulling on her clothing, and then moved from the room. The medic that had treated her was waiting and held out a device near her arm.

  “I need your confirmation before I can release you.”

  “Do it.” She lifted her arm closer. The device beeped, and the medic gave her a curt nod.

  “Do not hesitate to come back if the symptoms return.”

  She nodded and moved away with the others. They passed out into a wide foyer that led to open chambers in all directions, one of which was marked to the temporary barracks. She started to move there, but Alexis grabbed her arm.

  “No. We’re done on Deimos. We’re needed elsewhere.”

  “Oh?”

  They continued through the underground warren, passing a series of heavily guarded checkpoints before finally reaching a temporary barracks space. The ceiling was high up and covered with exposed metalwork.

  “This isn’t us,” said Alexis, “This is for 3rd Platoon. We’r
e on the other side of the landing pad. There’s only so much space cut into this rock we can use.”

  “3rd Platoon. I never thought they’d be reformed.”

  “Agreed. I spoke with the Lieutenant about it. He said we needed to let go of the past and move forward. If we don’t, he said the Novas would soon become a graveyard.”

  “That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “I know.” Alexis slowly shook her head, “He’s changed a lot since the siege. We all have.”

  The ground was marked for loading, and there were drop-off bays where vehicles could reverse up and unload stores through the doors almost a metre from the ground. One of the hexagonal doors was open, and bright light inside showed several people in armour moving about. Another section extended out from one of the walls with several angled windows fitted on two sides, like a kind of control tower to watch the loading area.

  “As you can see, this place is back online.”

  She indicated towards the massive metal blast door on one wall. It was half open, and she could make out the lower level of a spaceship, with the wide legs extended out below the hull to the deck.

  “You can say that again. It’s looking busy.”

  As she looked back, Valentine was surprised to see a dozen or so Novas moving in from an adjoining passage nearly fifty metres away. They marched in perfect time and with an array of extra heavy weapons fitted to their bodies.

  “That’s the brand-new 1st Lance. And 2nd and 4th have been rebuilt with new recruits, and survivors from other units.”

  “So, 1st Platoon is back in action?”

  “Oh, it’s better than that. We’ve got reinforcements from Terra Nova and Taxxu, enough fresh meat to rebuild the entire company with spares. I hear that 2nd Company is finishing training in the next few weeks.”

  “Impressive. A lot has changed in the last ten days.”

  “Ten days?” Hawkins laughed, “Val, you’ve been out for months. How did you think all of this happened so fast?”

  She lifted an artificial hand to her head and could feel the scar tissue.

  “I thought it was just…”

  “It’s okay,” said Alexis, “The recovery time, especially for soldiers like us. We put heavy loads on our minds. We were told you would be sent home. But you’re not, right?”