Battle for Karnak (Star Crusades: Mercenaries, Book 4)

by Thomas, Michael G.

  Hyndla!

  The place was hardly the most strategically important place on the planet, but the very idea of the civilian population turning on her clan warriors infuriated her. A success here at Hyndla would be enough to help spread the fires of unrest everywhere.

  "They are ready for the assault, Ogimà."

  Okemos beckoned towards the front of the gunship.

  "Landing grounds have been preselected. Our forces will come in together as planned. It will truly be terrible, and it will be glorious."

  Ogimà smiled that cruel grin that sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest soldiers.

  "Good, very good."

  She looked away, and then turned her attention back to him.

  "Don't kill them all. I want prisoners to parade back at Montu. Their fate will serve as a reminder to all those that fight back."

  Nakoma then closed her eyes while continuing to speak.

  "Every act of violence upon us will be returned tenfold."

  Her mouth twisted into her infamous cruel grin, the same expression visible when she toyed with prisoners at the tip of her daggers.

  "No, a hundred fold. It's time they learnt the true meaning of fear."

  As she looked ahead at their target, she spotted the multiple lights, some of which shone brightly up into the sky. They were looking for signs of danger, but nothing could prepare them for what was coming.

  This is no raid, or mere assault. This is punishment.

  * * *

  Rebel-held controlled Hyndla, Southern Depression

  Three armoured vehicles still burned in the main street running through the centre of Hyndla. These were up-armoured industrial vehicles, built around massive metal chassis, and covered in thin metal. Over the last weeks, they had been upgraded with welded armour and skirts running down both sides to partially protect the over-sized wheels. Now they were little more than blackened hulks, riddled with holes that betrayed the failure of their improvised armour. A single six-wheeled transport manoeuvred past the wreckage and stopped outside the half-collapsed workshop, now sheltering a unit of rebel fighters.

  "In here!" yelled one of those inside.

  A pair of scruffy looking Byotai leapt out and carried a small crate between them. They groaned under its weight and stopped, dropping it at the entrance. A younger rebel appeared from inside and dragged it into the shadows, leaving the other two to clamber back aboard and drive away; a cloud of dust trailed behind them. Bravtos, the youngest of the rebels in the small building pulled out the restraining bolt.

  "Looks like we've got some new toys," he said.

  Lahok and the others looked lazily at him, but none tried to see what prize they had received. Bravtos sighed and then slid the top off to reveal multiple weapons. They were carefully protected with thick plastic plates. He pulled out one and held it up in front of the others. Of all the weapons inside the crate, this one looked very different.

  "Human carbine."

  Lahok grinned.

  "Human? So what, we've got one good weapon out of the whole crate?"

  Bravtos handed it to Lahok and continued to rummage through the rest of the crate, pulling out further weapons, and even a handful of rusty looking blades.

  "I've heard of these. Coilguns. Powerful, and very complicated."

  Lahok pointed the muzzle well away from his wary comrades and checked the buttons. The first activated the unit, and when he lifted it to his shoulder, he could see a blinking status light. Another showed the two status levels.

  "Ammunition and power?"

  He placed his right hand near the trigger and found another button that moved as he pushed it.

  Interesting.

  As the block pushed into the housing, an indicator shifted from five small black circles to a single larger circle. The weapon seemed to hum with energy. He pointed it at the collapsed wall ten metres away and pulled the trigger. The weapon kicked back hard against his shoulder, and when the dust clear, there was a hole the size of his head in the wall.

  "Hey! Some of us are trying to sleep," complained Harim.

  Lahok sat back down, deactivated the weapon, and then leaned against the nearest wall. His comrades stretched out in the rubble as they rested their weary limbs. Beside them were their weapons, each lovingly repaired and modified to keep them working. The city was theirs, at least for now, and they desperately needed rest. Bravtos walked around them, handing out extra weapons and ammunition until finally slumping down to join them. Before he closed his eyes, he leaned over to Lahok and passed him his canteen. Lahok took a sip and then coughed.

  "What is that?"

  Bravtos laughed.

  "Something fermented by the Helion traders. It's supposed to be a delicacy for the table."

  Lahok took another mouthful, gargled for a few seconds, and then swallowed. His eyes opened wide as the tepid fluid ran through his body, filling him with a warm, comfortable glow. He gave Bravtos a polite nod and settled back down. He was only in his early thirties, yet a stranger might have thought he was twice that age. The hard labour of toiling in the mines on Karnak had shaped his body into a toned, tough, and worn down shape. But the months of slavery at the hands of the Red Scars had truly battered his physical form. Like so many of his kin, he'd been beaten and abused in a desperate attempt to cow him to conform. Now he was angry, and very well motivated. Something stirred, and his eyes opened to find a shadow creeping away and to the edge of the building. For a second, he grabbed for his weapon, but then he recognised the figure.

  "Any news from the other cities? It can't just be us."

  None of the others seemed to listen to him, and one rose to his feet and walked to the Northern side of the burnt out building. He was Jaqiq. A quiet miner with just one arm, and his pale reptilian flesh now pockmarked with cuts and scars from their violent captivity. He glanced back to Lahok and then sniffed the air, turning his attention back to the skies.

  "You heard something?" Lahok asked.

  His comrade barely moved and continued to slowly sniff the air. He didn't need to step outside as the building was already in a terrible state of repair. It offered little protection from the infrequent rain due to the roof being long gone, but it did at least help cut down on the dust that continued to blow in. Lahok joined him and strained his eyes to see in the darkness. The sky was almost as dark as the ground, with only the black outline of the flattened city providing any change.

  "It's a stillness, the calm...before..."

  Lahok's stomach churned as he recalled the recent fighting. He hoped beyond hope this was the end of the revolt in the city, but deep down, he knew their little rebellion could not be ignored. Since evicting the small Red Scars garrison, they had been waiting. He looked to the horizon and then lifted his gaze, soaking in the blackness. Even after a few seconds, his eyes had adjusted well.

  Few of the taller buildings remained in one piece amidst the ruin of Hyndla. Of the tallest, two water towers rose from the rubble like ancient columns. Both had been shattered and rendered useless in the fighting, yet remained intact enough to be granted a new lease of life as lookout towers; hastily fitted out with powerful lamps and several looted firearms. They reached up to the skies and offered the sentries a good view of the ruined city. Hyndla had been one of the ten modern cities positioned in in the Northern part of the vast, quarter of a million square kilometre depression. From high attitude, the area looked like a massive ridge that twisted and turned to follow the path of the shifted tectonic plates. The city might have fallen to the rebels, but there was still fighting in the outlying suburbs where Red Scar warriors tried to bring them under their control.

  What's that?

  Lahok spotted a guard lifting a hand to the sky. From this far away it might have easily been a bird, but as the light caught him, it glinted off the metallic band on his armour. As he squinted, something moved off into the distance. It was just a black spec, but then it seemed to move to the left. Lahok wasn't sure, but t
he sentries on the first tower called the warning.

  "Aircraft to the North!" yelled one.

  It was the order all of them had been dreading, the one thing that could put true terror into their hearts. The clans might be different in many ways, but all of them shared a degree of cruelty and brutality he would never, could never forget.

  "Let's go, to our station!" Squad Leader Mahos yelled.

  Lahok needed no encouragement, and as one, they leapt up from the dusty floor and out through the shattered walls. Shadowy shapes marked the positions of other Byotai as scores streamed out from their hiding places. Lahok ran with his unit of seven other soldiers, looking more like nomads than real soldiers. They'd not been given a name, or some fancy history to rally behind. Instead, all those able to fight had been divided up into squads no bigger than ten individuals. Lahok's small unit had been given a number, and though it should have meant little, Lahok remained proud to be part of the 33rd Squad, one of hundreds such units in the newly created Hyndla Brigade.

  "Move it!"

  The alarms continued to sound as the rebels prepared for battle. Most ran to walls and ruined buildings, but a few Byotai fighters clambered up the ladders to join their comrades in the upper positions of the two water towers. More of the great lights switched on, scanning the dark skies for signs of the enemy's approach. Many more Byotai rebels clambered over the rubble to reach their hastily erected defences. Low barricades provided outer defences at key points encircling the small city, and scores of single storey buildings became temporary bunkers. The city resembled both a military camp and a ruin, torn apart by fire and explosives and a weeklong revolt. Mahos leapt high, Lahok stumbled, and then followed his lead, narrowly avoiding falling into the pit now partially covered up by a metal plate.

  "Keep running," Mahos ordered, "They are here!"

  They ran past another squad moving around a broken down vehicle that still carried a large multi-barrelled gun system on its rear bed. It was one of many pieces of equipment secretly sent to them by the Humans. Lahok grinned as he heard the motors fire up, and the unit on the back rotated around to face to the North. Seconds later, it fired, filling the sky with its explosive projectiles.

  We can do this. We can keep Hyndla.

  The rockets and missiles struck indiscriminately, some striking towers and buildings, while just as many caught soldiers out in the open. Bright flashes crackled in all directions, but Lahok kept going. His pulse quickened, and his chest pounded as he ran as fast as his body could take him.

  We win or we die. There are no other options.

  He ran across the dust-covered street to the low wall, passing an overturned crawler. Another settler looked back, calling them to hurry as they separated to their pre-determined positions.

  "Okay, fan out, get in position," said Mahos.

  33rd Squad split up, each dropping down behind the broken stonework. In almost perfect synchronisation they placed their rifles and carbines atop the wall and took aim, half expecting to find clan warriors rushing out of the darkness. The crump of gunfire vanished periodically as the heavy thumping sound of shells and rockets hitting stonework drowned it out.

  "Check your weapons."

  Mahos sounded calm as he called out the orders. None were soldiers, yet they appeared to show a surprising calm in the middle of this calamity. Lahok lifted his rifle and checked the mechanism once more. He carried the Human coilgun on a sling on his shoulder, but kept it there as he pulled the bolt back on his trusty, if ancient firearm. The Human weapon was intriguing, but in the confusion of battle, he knew he could work the rifle. And Lahok was no soldier. He'd witnessed battle, and it terrified him.

  We have to keep them out of the city. If they get back in, they'll unleash those Red Scars on us, and this time there will be no mercy.

  Lahok had seen the brutality of the feral clan warriors before when they'd first swept into the South. Unlike their more rural comrades, the urban dwellers of the South were beaten in a matter of days. Lahok shook his head as he remembered the first day; back when the Red Scars dropped from their aircraft into the streets.

  They were animals.

  His fingers ran along the rifle's mechanism, and he closed his eyes for a second. The images and smells of battle quickly returned, not that they had ever left him. This area had been occupied for what seemed like years now. While the rest of Karnak was split up between widely separated towns, cities, and outposts, the huge Depression in the South was a very different place, and much easier to pacify. In the other regions it was possible to hide out in the hundreds of small and hidden settlements, but here in the South, all urbanisation was based around the cluster of ten large settlements. Each was positioned along the base of the Northern cliffs, with several bordering on the size of small provincial cities. This urbanised region contained a third of the entire Byotai population of Karnak, all of who were now in chains.

  Well, not quite all of us.

  The few Byotai that were armed and fought back were cornered and executed. Any that tried to help soon joined them. It had, of course, been a complete and overwhelming victory for the clan warriors of the Red Scars, and all conducted with incredible timing and surprise. Lahok looked up and tried to push the thoughts of recent losses and defeats to one side.

  We took back Hyndla in the end, didn't we?

  The bolt made an odd sound as he pulled it back, and that unnerved him. Of the few items to his name, this weapon was his most prized. It had served him well enough so far, yet something wasn't right.

  "Lahok, get on the line," said Mahos.

  He started to move, but again the bolt seemed stuck on something. He paused and bent down to check. At that very moment, the wall disintegrated in an explosive fireball. Had he been looking up, he would have taken the impact in the face. Instead, most washed over him or struck the very top of his loosely fitted helmet. None of the 33rd knew it had been coming.

  "What..."

  The powerful missile that struck the wall hit with incredible speed and precision, striking the base and shattering its structure in an instant. The small warhead detonated within a metre of the improvised defences and made easy work of the metal and rock. Four militiamen were instantly killed, and any that survived and tried to run away, as three more missiles struck the area in quick succession. These follow-up missiles moved in at a higher position and exploded above the broken wall, striking anyone hiding behind it.

  Rockets from another gunship raked the street, some hitting the barricade and breaking apart the few remaining parts. Lahok was already running and hanging onto his helmet when they hit with a hammer like force. The bombardment blasted apart the entire defensive position with ease and sent Lahok flying through the air, depositing him flat on his back and in the middle of the road. Even as he struggled to get up, more rockets screamed downwards, leaving no hiding place for the terrified Byotai.

  We thought we were ready. Lahok thought, as he vision faded. We were so wrong.

  * * *

  Ogimà Nakoma howled with pleasure as the tall pumping station collapsed in a great explosion of flame and rock. Her gunship circled around it, raking the ground with guns and rockets as the Byotai fled in panic.

  "Don't stop!" she yelled, "If they run, shoot them."

  The gunship rolled to the right so quickly that any passengers not strapped in would have been thrown out. Okemos finished speaking to his deputies and turned his attention back to his warlord. He lowered his head as he spoke, always doing his best to avoid eye contact.

  "Ogimà, our forces have breached the Western perimeter. The battle will begin shortly."

  "Good...very good."

  Hyndla was no longer a thriving metropolis filled with engineers, traders, and miners. Today, the city was little more than another battleground in the unending conflict to decide the fate of Karnak. Flashes marked the position of firearms, while yellow and white explosions highlighted the impact of high-explosive warheads. A particularly powerful volley
lit up Nakoma's face as she looked down from her gunship. From a height of seventy metres, she had a perfect view of what was happening below, and she loved every second of it. The Byotai were clearly terrified and fleeing in all directions. Those that stood their ground were cut down by overwhelming firepower.

  This is good, very good. This should remind them who is really in charge.

  Just thinking about the Byotai and their incessant revolts sent a chill through her body. She'd not said anything, but she was one of the few that had any idea of the big picture. Her position in Montu and the Khagi mountain district was strong, and she doubted anybody would be foolish enough to challenge her there. However, with Melantias lost to the Exiles and their mercenary friends in the North, she was feeling less and less confident about her control of the planet. She snarled as she recalled one of the most recent assassination attempts.

  Without me, this planet would have been lost a year ago.

  The gunship shuddered as it launched four rockets down below. Nakoma watched with fascination as they struck a building and tore it apart with ease. She nodded her head happily and lifted her gaze to examine the fires burning furiously through the North of the city. She had spent little time in this part of the planet, but the failure of the Red Scars had made her intervention inevitable.

  The Red Scars. Their idiocy has left me exposed. I cannot, we cannot afford this thorn in our sides.

  Another explosion caught her eye, and for the moment the long-term plan faded from her thoughts. Her airborne forces had a battle to fight and win. So far, the main offensive had started from the West, where her clan warriors streamed out into the city. She counted four gunships in position and already lifting up to make room for the next aircraft.

  That's the distraction, and now...

  Her thoughts were immediately interrupted by a streak of yellow flashing past as a gun emplacement tried to knock down the agile flyers. Nakoma focused on the weapon platform.