Star Crusader: Siege of Kalar

  “Nate!” Billy shouted.

  A trio of the attackers were already at him. He should have been petrified, but he found it hard to ignore his enemy. They were armed but not as soldiers. Some wore army chest armour, others thick tunics, but there was no uniform between them. Almost all bore marks on their faces, much like tattoos, and all were enraged.

  Do something.

  Billy returned to his side, blasting with his pistol when a long metal bar struck him in the head. He went down hard, falling amid the many bodies. One came for Nate, so he lifted the Krokspjot up above his head. The impact was hard and shattered the centre of the weapon, leaving him holding a useless piece of equipment.

  Your pistol.

  He glanced down, grabbed his pistol, and looked back the moment a heavily equipped Anicinàbe clan warrior swung for him. Unlike the Byotai, the Anicinàbe were much more nimble, quick on their feet and elegant, almost graceful in combat. The weapon redirected and struck his right arm, knocking the pistol aside.

  This is it.

  With nothing left to do, Nate lifted his arms and prepared to beat off the attack with his bare arms. Then the enemy soldiers vanished. Some fell down, but as many were blasted aside as though a great wind had blown through the open space. Figures in black smashed into the battle, cutting down anybody nearby without mercy.

  “Wow!”

  Nate froze to the spot as the dozen figures cut the enemy apart with ease. Nate knew instantly they were the Black Widows, the band of all female mercenary warriors that always seemed to be around Spartan. They were very heavily armoured, though each appeared to wear slightly different equipment. All of them used short-range weapons, from machine pistols and carbines, through to short pikes and even one gold-coloured sword.

  “Out of my way!” yelled one, as she brought up a blade to parry a rifle blow. The woman kicked her assailant in the stomach, forcing him to fly a metre back and land on the ground. A shot rang out, killing the clan warrior, and the fighting continued. The Widows mowed down the Technophobes with savagery that even the surviving marines led by a bloodied, but still alive Valentine, watched on in stunned silence.

  “You!”

  Nate looked to his left, and there was a single Anicinàbe warrior. This one carried only a knife, but it was long, sharp, and dripping with blood. Seeing the thing sent a chill through Nate’s body. The warrior was much bigger than him, and marks on his body betrayed his past as from one of the many different clans of his people.

  “No!” Nate muttered. The battle had turned, and there was no way he was letting this last warrior end it for him. He instantly looked for his fallen pistol, grabbed it, and then rose to his feet. There were at least three-dozen bodies, and he noticed some were his fellow Byotai pilots. “Your turn!”

  Nate pulled the trigger, but the warrior had already gone. Nate turned left and then right, but there was no sign of his attacker. More shots rang out, and figures rushed away from the battle. Movement to his right showed the position of his friend, and his chest pounded with excitement.

  “Billy! How the hell?”

  Nate clambered over two fallen Technophobes and grabbed his friend. Billy groaned, but apart from a possible concussion, he seemed unhurt. The others rose to their feet, shaking the dust and damage from the fight. To Nate’s amazement, all the Ironclads were there, and none seem any worse for wear other than Billy. Then Lieutenant Commander Holder lifted up on one knee. She looked weak, and Nate tried to reach her. Valentine was closer and helped her to her feet. By the time Nate was there, he could see she’d taken a hit to her chest from a projectile weapon. The arm was dented and cracked yet looked intact.

  “Are you okay, Sir?”

  Holder nodded.

  “Yeah, I’ll live.”

  She then looked at the many bodies on the ground.

  “What about my people?”

  Valdis was there, her visor open, and blood dripping down from her forehead.

  “Three dead and eight wounded.”

  Valentine opened her visor, gasped, and looked about for her friends. It took seconds to find the bodies, and she collapsed at seeing her fallen comrades. Nate was right next to her when she found the last one, with a pair of bullet holes in the torso.

  “I’m sorry,” he said feebly.

  Valentine looked back at him, shaking her head.

  “Somebody…somebody is gonna pay.”

  Her face was white and oozed rage. When Holder placed a hand on her shoulder, she almost struck back, barely able to control herself.

  “Private. Not now. Are you with us?”

  The young marine looked broken, but when she looked at the senior officer her face altered. The white seemed to fade as she spoke, and the shock quickly turned to a desire to fight back.

  “Yes, Sir, I’m here.”

  Three Black Widows moved closer, but only one opened her visor. It was the panting figure of Syala.

  “You all okay?”

  Valentine stared at the bodies.

  “Not really. Three pilots and three marines dead.”

  Syala didn’t seem surprised to hear that.

  “It’s the same everywhere. They came in fast and right inside our cordon. The fleet is fighting back, but there are hundreds more of these transports, and more are coming.”

  Matilda pointed off towards their destination.

  “Can we get to the fighters?”

  Syala laughed. She was a strange one, an elite mercenary, but she also looked a little psychotic. Others might be upset, nervous, or at least affected by violence in a negative way. Some of the pilots had broken down, and even Valentine could barely speak. Yet Syala appeared to relish the fight, as though it was a game. He could see something in her eyes, the same kind of look he had when in pursuit of a fighter in the simulator. It was a lust, but unlike his, it was a lust for violence. It unnerved Nate more than anything else so far.

  “Oh, we’re getting there, don’t worry. That’s why I’m here; orders from Spartan and Higgins. They want all of you off the station, stat.”

  She nodded in the same direction.

  “I’ve got a squad guarding the entrance, but they can’t hold for much longer. The civilians are already off, just you left on this level.”

  “What about the bodies?” Cassandra asked.

  Syala looked at the fallen but didn’t linger too long.

  “Their battle is over, pilot. It’s your time now.”

  Cassandra was shocked by that response.

  “What? We can’t leave our friends behind.”

  Her eyes shifted to Nate, but Syala was already leaving. She stepped carefully past a fallen clan warrior and then turned back. The pilots were still there, a stunned and shocked group of people who’d just gone through something they’d not been prepared for.

  “I’m going now. Either you come with me, or you stay. There’s no other choice. The dead are dead. We can’t help them now.”

  The Black Widows turned their backs on the fight and broke into a jog. Nate watched them in amazement before Holder gave the signal.

  “Let’s go. She’s right.”

  They picked up whatever they could and moved on after the Widows. Valentine hesitated, removed the dog tags from the necks of her comrades, and then fell in with the others.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kalar Anchorage, 9th Quadrant

  January 13th 2473

  The warning sirens continued to sing their song as groups rushed to the flight deck. A handful of Technophobes and a single Star Empire officer raced inside, only to be forced back by concentrated fire from the pilots and crew inside. They melted away into the darker areas where the lights had failed or been destroyed. The flight deck was almost deserted as Nate and the others ran inside. Two hidden soldiers tried to intercept them, but before Nate could raise a hand, a group of the Black Widows crashed inside.

  “Clear a path!” shouted one.

  A blade slashed just in front of Nate, and he dropped to one
knee while lifting his pistol. Guns lashed back and forth, clearing the area in a single devastating volley, and then it was clear. All before Nate could even find one clear target. He looked back, and there was the warrior woman, Syala. Her helmet was now fully open, and she looked calm, almost serene amidst the devastation.

  “I…uh…”

  “Don’t linger, hotshot,” she said.

  Syala was gone before he could put a sentence together. Nate watched her, but only for a moment. She moved with a confidence he wished he had. She led a small group of her mercenaries to plug yet another hole in the defences, and they seemed positively excited at the prospects of more action. Nate wanted to say something to her, but she was busy talking to somebody else via her intercom system, somebody much more important than him.

  “Look!” Billy said.

  A pair of Jackals were on the deck, one already three metres up from the ground. With a flash of power it was gone, leaving dust and flame in its wake. Now a single Jackal dropship remained, with just two technicians helping make sure the last of the fighters were ready. The first thing Nate noticed was the pair of bodies they passed on the way through. Both were Byotai and wearing the flight suits and light armour common to Katanga’s forces.

  Valdis and Billy stopped at his side and pointed off at the fighters. There were many Hawkmoths lined up in a staggered formation, each with a ladder reaching down to the ground. Nate loved looking at them, with their small bodies, thin wings, and powerful guns. They were the epitome of elegance, and he knew how effective they were in battle. Though smaller and of lower mass than anything used by the Alliance, they were still deadly craft. Unlike the Lightning fighters Nate was used to, these smaller craft could be stowed aboard even the smallest of ships, meaning that wherever the Byotai were, so were their fighters.

  “Our fighters?”

  Matilda stopped alongside him and scanned the distance, but she couldn’t see them. Dozens of Byotai raced past and clambered up their ladders, their systems sealing shut around them. This was the first time Nate had seen somebody climb into one, and he was amazed to see they actually lay down in the hull, their heads to the front and hands pushed out as though reaching for something.

  Weird.

  Every fighter Nate had been inside was of the conventional design, including the Star Empire heavy fighters they’d stolen recently. He could have watched them for hours, but then came that dreaded sound, the one he probably feared more than any other.

  Gunfire!

  Valentine, along with three of the Widows and a pair of Byotai soldiers were forming up in a skirmish line. Something hit near them, and a Byotai stumbled, dropped to the floor, and then rose to his feet while groaning.

  “We need to help them,” said Nate.

  Cassandra pushed out an arm and blocked his progress.

  “No way, Nate. Your girlfriend can look after herself. We have our own work to do.”

  Nate turned around to argue his point, but Billy and Matilda were also there, and neither seemed as though they intended to go with him.

  “She’s right,” said Billy.

  More shots hit near them, but then the Widows opened fire. One carried a large rotary weapon on a body-mounted bracket, and it roared with great ferocity. Valentine was shooting, her carbine loosing off shots one at a time with calm precision. Nate shook his head as they held position, a thin line of flesh and armour. He took out his autorevolver, checked the shells, and took a step back.

  “I can’t just…”

  Somebody barged into him, and when he looked up, it was Lieutenant Commander Holder. She looked like she was in pain, but she could still run, carrying a carbine casually under one arm.

  “Ironclads, they are fighting so we can leave. Don’t let their sacrifice be wasted. This way.”

  Somewhere along the line she’d lost her helmet, and Nate could see her face, as well as lacerations all down her left cheek. Nate and the others moved after her. They were forced to divert to the right as a pair of the Hawkmoths rose from the deck. Their engines roared, leaving light marks on the smooth floor. It was dangerous moving along the deck, but the increasing sounds of gunfire served as a reminder to their current predicament.

  “Keep moving, pilots. Don’t dawdle. If you fall, nobody is coming back for you today.”

  They circled past three more fighters, and there before them were four Phantoms. Their doors were open, but there were no guards nearby, and Nate almost panicked when he saw a shape on the ramp.

  Valdis!

  He had no idea how she’d beaten them all to the craft, but he couldn’t hide his relief. She looked equally happy, and then without warning lifted her carbine and fired.

  “Hurry!”

  Nate looked over his shoulder and saw Valentine and the others clambering aboard the remaining Jackal. Inside the Anchorage it looked massive, and he felt almost helpless as the warrior woman moved inside, leaving him with Billy, Cassandra, and the others. Cassandra grabbed his arm.

  “What are you gawping at?” she demanded. Her eyes moved to the Jackal, and she instantly shook her head.

  “Stop pining after the Jarhead.”

  Nate sensed the irritation in her voice, but perhaps something else. He turned to look back, but her face remained shielded, just like his.

  “What?”

  Cassandra yanked him back along the deck.

  “Get to your fighter!”

  Valdis was there on the other arm and grabbed it.

  “She’s right. Come with me.”

  Without even speaking to Cassandra, she tore Nate away, and the two moved off to their Phantom. Cassandra watched them go, muttered something, and headed to her own craft. Gunfire returned as more of the enemy moved in to swamp them.

  “Why are they coming after us?” Nate asked, running as fast as he could.

  Valdis glanced back.

  “They want the station, but they also want our fighters.”

  Nate hadn’t thought of that. Even after having them for such a short time, he still considered them his own personal property. They’d taken a lot of heat both in taking them and in using them, and the results had been worth every second.

  “They can’t have them!” Nate said, his tone hard and unforgiving, “We fought hard for them, and I’ll be damned if I’m letting some Technophobe get his hands on them.”

  Over the sound of the battle, he felt the vibration through the deck as something fired heavy guns. He knew he should keep going, but as always, curiosity got the better of him. To the right was another Phantom, and Cassandra climbed inside, looked back at him, and sealed the doors. The sound roared again, and as his head turned, he noticed the Jackal a metre from the ground. Bullets from dozens of the enemy flashed all over it, covering the armoured spacecraft in sparks and dents.

  Get out of here, Valentine. Do it!

  He’d never worried about her as much as right now and didn’t relax, until it moved another metre from the deck and opened up with its flank-mounted guns. They raked the enemy, cutting them down with ease. Nate’s comms clicked with a familiar sound.

  “We’re clear, so go!”

  Valentine?

  Nate remained transfixed on the spacecraft as it unleashed a barrage of rockets from the mounts on its upper structure. Explosions wracked the landing deck as the craft rose from the ground and its flank-mounted heavy engines roared with power. The doors were still open, and two marines fired from the sides at the targets. Again the guns opened fire, and streaks from their barrels marked scores of heavy shots. Then the pilot pulsed the engines so that the Jackal looked like it was bouncing.

  Nate looked back to their fighter, but Valdis was still staring at the Jackal. Shots clattered along its hull, and somebody fell from the side, hitting the ground hard.

  “Did you see that?”

  Nate was moving to catch up with her and barely understood her over the sound of the shooting.

  “Nate?”

  Something struck the side of
the Phantom, and it forced him to flinch as though the shot might have made it inside. Their eyes met for a second.

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. Too late now, anyway, they’re gone. Get inside. We need to go.”

  Nate relaxed as he watched the Jackal reach the peak of the jump. It spun about and roared away.

  Good. They made it.

  Valentine was a good friend, and had been ever since they’d all escaped together. He couldn’t wait to talk with her after all this was over, but first they had to get out alive. Three more Hawkmoths lifted up high and boosted their engines, even though there was a chance the backwash could injure those below them. The evacuation had begun in an orderly fashion, but now it seemed it was every man for himself. An explosion tore apart another as it tried to take off, and the broken craft dropped back down, taking another with it. Nate hesitated, but Valdis ran back to him, grabbed his arm, and yanked him along.

  “You idiot. Run!”

  Nate didn’t look back and ran even faster to the spacecraft. The obvious external damage had been hastily repaired, and it was easy to see where punctuated sections were now patched, the nanocrystal-enhanced armour replaced with standard layered plates. He tried to ignore the long black marks showing close impacts and heat damage from other weapons. The Phantom had taken enough damage to destroy a pair of normal fighters, and yet here it was, ready for action.

  Hello, old friend.

  Nate reached for the doorway and instantly felt relieved. It was strange, of course, because this wasn’t his spacecraft. It wasn’t even Alliance property. For all that, the fighter was so much more to him. It was his home and almost a friend. It was like returning to his bunk back on board Relentless. Valdis hit the door controls and moved in to help him. Nate reached the cockpit, but as he pushed into the seats, Valdis was there before him.

  “Okay, I think…”

  Valdis pulled off her helmet and without warning grabbed him, pulling her close. They kissed for only a second or two, but it felt like a lifetime to Nate. His heart pounded with the excitement and terror of the battle, and now this. As they separated, she pulled her helmet back on and moved to her seat. Nate remained stationary, stunned by what had happened.