War of the Exiles

by Michael G. Thomas

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  FURTHER INFORMATION

  WAR OF THE EXILES

  STAR CRUSADES: MERCENARIES

  By Michael G. Thomas

  Part of the STAR CRUSADES series

  First Edition

  Copyright © 2015 Michael G. Thomas

  Published by Swordworks Books

  The official Star Crusades website:

  www.starcrusader.com

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  https://www.facebook.com/starcrusader

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The war left worlds in ruins and millions of lives destroyed. The victory that had been so hard won now turned to a violent peace, punctuated by raider attacks, uprisings, and revolts. Into this turmoil came the Interstellar Assault Brigade, a unit created by some of the Alliance's most notorious heroes. Combining the best technology with recruits from all friendly territories, it became the rapid response force upon which all others were measured. Based in the ruins of the ancient Biomech realm of Taxxu, the IAB remained on standby, with a small fleet of fast assault carriers and a number of combat units suitable for all situations. From the remotely controlled Grunts, through to the Maverick heavy armour suit, they could be at any planet in Alliance controlled space in a matter of days, rather than months. The addition of the JAS suits of the Jötnar gave them an assault force like no other.

  Heroes of the Biomech War

  Interstellar Assault Brigade, Team Alpha, Tenth Quadrant

  Spartan activated the Secgrid command network and broadcast his videostream directly to the soldiers of Team Alpha. There were only four of them inside the up-armoured Jackal MK II dropship, two Humans and two synthetic Jötnar. The thirty launch tubes, each carrying a CD1 remotely controlled combat Grunt, took up the rest of the space. These were small humanoid fighting machines that were as capable as a normal marine, yet expendable and heavily armoured. The communications unit activated instantly, and the upper inside of each soldier's visor now showed his face in high-definition video.

  "This is it, people. You know the plan and what's at stake. Grunts will take point and remember, you can take hits but avoid friendlies. This is an extraction, not an assault."

  Spartan's visor was clamped shut and his armoured form encased inside a second unit, the state-of-the-art large Maverick Combat Assault Suit. He moved his eyes to the left and checked the interior of his craft. He could see Captain Khan and Colonel Gun, the synthetic Jötnars, oversized humanoid warriors that were easily twice the size of a normal man. Gun lifted his left arm, signalling he'd heard Spartan and then joined in on the command network.

  "The Byotai are in position, and the enemy fleet has been sighted. Check your gear for the last time. When we activate the engines, we'll be just eleven minutes out. This is our first combined operation, let's make it one for the history books."

  The communications system fell silent, and the four said nothing for another minute until finally Lieutenant Armstrong spoke. Like Spartan, he also wore the heavy Maverick armour.

  "This is the first time we've used all three ships together. It an auspicious day, Sir."

  Spartan opened his mouth to answer, but Captain Khan spoke first.

  "Three ships and a company of IAB Grunts. This aint no auspicious day, Lieutenant, this is going to be a red day. When we hit that station, all hell is going to break loose. I don't know about you, but my body could do with a little bloodletting."

  Gun grunted in agreement, and Lieutenant Armstrong said no more. The Jötnar were a tough and deadly race, but they had little interest in conversation, and were never happier than when in combat. The very thought of going into battle once more, and against an enemy with unknown numbers, he felt a sick feeling in his stomach. Spartan sensed something was wrong and deactivated his arm so he could reach out and gently strike the officer’s shoulder.

  "Lieutenant. You doing okay there?"

  The man nodded, his movement completely hidden inside the armour.

  "Affirmative, Sir. Just a little apprehensive of the mission."

  Spartan tried to sound conciliatory while keeping a serious tone.

  "Don't worry about it, Armstrong. The Grunts will take the heat. We're just along for the ride."

  "Yes, Sir. I'm sure you're right."

  Once more the Jackal became almost silent, as the warriors on board waited patiently for the orders. Spartan closed his eyes for a little while and ran through one of his many pre-battle calming rituals. The other Jackals were much the same, and each of the soldiers had their own way of dealing with the stress of waiting, even the pilots of the CD1 Grunts.

  Men and women inside the three warships using remote presence equipment piloted the remotely controlled Grunts. For them, it would feel as though they were actually the Grunts, but with the benefit that if the armour was destroyed, they could simply transfer to another without suffering any harm. It was that part that unnerved Lieutenant Armstrong. The controllers of the Grunts were safe, while the officers were not. It was not ideal, but it was also a new requirement of Alliance High Command, and the only way they would allow fully independent combat robots into battle in Alliance space.

  The three Crusader Class Assault Carriers waited in deep space far from the Byotai border, and equally far from the Medamud Debris Field. The ships were ugly creations and little in common with the sleeker shapes of their predecessors. Gone were the conventional starship engines, and in their place the experimental Alcubierre stardrive. The last third of the ships was taken up by a pair of large rings housing the special nacelles required to created the warped space-bubble, the most advanced solution to the problem of long-distance space travel.

  The formation was separated by a hundred kilometres between the ships, and ANS Titan leading the v-shaped formation. The Confederate class were substantial vessels, at four hundred metres in length, displacing over eighty thousand tons, and packed with soldiers bristling with the latest weapons. They were the vanguard of the Interstellar Assault Brigade, and even with just three ships a force to be reckoned with.

  "Spartan," said Gun.

  The Major opened his eyes and found himself looking at the videostream of Gun.

  "I'm here."

  "Good," said the Jötnar, "General Makos has made contact. It is time."

  * * *

  Battleship 'Hellstorm', Medamud Debris Field, Tenth Quadrant

  The salvo of torpedoes struck the crippled Byotai tanker and set off a series of devastating secondary explosions. As the vesse
l ripped itself apart, it became part of the vast graveyard that had now taken fifty-four ships. This paled to insignificance compared to the one hundred and seventy thousand Byotai citizens killed in the fighting, and more than twice that number wounded or taken prisoner. After all of this carnage, the war had not even reached a year old. The border worlds of the disputed Tenth Quadrant were now a proxy warzone for the two regional superpowers, yet after so much death, neither side would commit to the battle. Settlers, mercenaries, and adventurers flocked to the six inhabited planets in search of opportunity, wealth, or glory, while medical ships took away hundreds of casualties every week. The Anicinàbe clans had number and resources in abundance, while the Byotai were forced to rely upon the charity and aid sent by their kin back in the Empire.

  It was now the last week of the eleventh month of the border war, and after months of fruitless fighting, the time had come for the decisive battle. General Makos, the renegade leader of the Byotai settlers had done something few thought possible. In an incredible display of space-faring skill and strategy, he had assembled a fleet and finally cornered the Anicinàbe in the treacherous region of space, known simply as Medamud Debris Field. Neither side had been keen for a full confrontation, with all the benefits and risks that such a battle would entail. That had now changed, and General Makos could almost taste the blood of the hated Anicinàbe border clans.

  Both sides were well equipped and a full-scale battle just hours, perhaps even minutes away. In the months since Karnak front-lines had been stabilised, the Byotai numbers had slowly increased. More ships had arrived, along with large numbers of civilians eager to help. There was little in the way of military power, outside of the few ships that had defected in the first weeks of the crisis. This left the Byotai unusually weak on the ground, and was one of the causes of the stalemate in the fighting. Only in space did they have a chance, as their smaller, but substantially more powerful fleet could dominate, if it could bring numbers to bear.

  The Byotai Fleet contained an odd mixture of warships that had defected from the naval yards, and a much larger number of chartered vessels and mercenaries. It was known simply as the Border Fleet, and after months of battle under the inspired command of General Makos, honed into something deadly. He looked out at the formation of ships and nodded to himself. His officers were busy running the ship, and for now he had a moment to assess his position.

  Our time has come. One way or another, I will end this today.

  It was an optimistic assessment, but like many of the commanders in the region, he was well aware that his people were not equipped or trained for prolonged warfare. The Byotai war machine would not help, at least not while the threat of all out war with the Anicinàbe remained. The border war might be violent, but it was still a limited conflict, one where battles usually consisted of little more than a few thousand individuals at a time.

  The Tenth Quadrant had become the focal point for pirates, corsairs, and mercenaries throughout known space, and each week the war went on left the region even less stable.

  I need control of the shipping lanes.

  General Makos clenched his fists tightly.

  I can then strangle them, starving them of resources until our new forces can drive them out, forever.

  These new forces were not soldiers, but something very different. They came from all corners of known space to join in with the fighting, with most opting to accept the coin or offers of land from the more pragmatic Byotai, though occasionally they would join the Anicinàbe if the price were right. On one side were the border clans of the Anicinàbe, millions of individuals from thirteen separate clans, and all looking to reclaim the long abandoned region on behalf on their war chiefs. To them the seven border worlds were more than lost worlds; they were assets that their hated foe was now exploiting. After eleven months of combat, the war was far from resolved on the ground.

  General Makos swallowed slowly and then checked his dispositions again. One squadron of fighters were too far to his left flank, and a curt order quickly brought them back. He'd led the entire fleet here, intentionally leaving the inhabited worlds unprotected for this one chance of victory. It was risky but just the kind of strategy the renowned hero of the Byotai would attempt. Though an infantry general, he was still the most capable fleet commander in the region. He led his forces into the field as though they were a front-line armada, and they were now starting to act like it. The ships moved cautiously, carefully avoiding the myriad of objects in the dense clouds of debris. Small groups of fighters darted about ahead of them, continually checking for signs of other ships or traps and mines left behind by the cunning Anicinàbe. This was not the first time the Byotai had attempted to draw them out into a final battle, and each time the Anicinàbe managed to slip away after causing light casualties.

  The fifteen Byotai military ships were the core of the fleet. A number were veterans of the Biomech War, and some still bore the marks of that terrible conflict. It was a matter of pride to retain the marks of previous battles, badges of pride that would remain as permanent mementos of darker days. These were by far the larger and took up the centre of each group. They were all black, making them difficult to spot unless in front of bright objects or self-illuminated. Each warship was designed to look like a creature from the Byotai homeworld.

  At the front of this fleet was Hellstorm. Though each a powerful vessel in its own right, Hellstorm was by far the largest of the fifteen. Her ungainly form retained the styling of the others but on a larger scale. It had the look of a giant insect; enlarged body parts, and vast solar cell membranes running out along its wings.

  General Makos looked on at the last remnants of the combined Anicinàbe fleet as it flitted about through this ruined part of space. Medamud had never been colonised, not because of its environment or resources, but simply owing to the fact it was torn apart in a freak event a millennia ago. The broken planet was now circled by a massive cloud of debris that ranged in size from chunks the size of a small moon through to specks of dust. The field was so great it would take a thousand ships and hundreds of years to fully scan the area; even then there would be little chance of recording the myriad of changes taking place every few minutes. It was the perfect place to conduct clandestine operations from deep inside the field. He looked to his deck officers.

  "How long until we reach their facility?"

  The answer came back instantly.

  "Ten minutes, General," replied Captain Minkov, "It will not be much longer."

  He cleared his throat before continuing.

  "If we can force the Anicinàbe into battle, we will destroy them, General. Their ships will not stand against our ships-of-the-line."

  He seemed concerned before saying the next few words.

  "Even so, threatening their forward base is a risky venture, especially out here."

  Makos nodded with agreement.

  "I know. There is a reason they put it out here. We have to draw the fighters away and give Spartan his window. There are more than thirty of our civilian ships being held there and who knows how many of our people."

  He looked to his officer with an uneasy look on his face.

  "According to the information from the CTC operatives on board, there are enough prisoners to allow us to open a second front on Karnak."

  He closed his eyes, as he often did when stressed.

  "With the Empire strangling our reserves, we need to look to all sources for manpower. The enemy has more soldiers, weapons, and ships than we do."

  His eyes opened, and he looked resolved.

  "It is time to force the issue, my friend. All we have to do is find something more valuable than their ships, and threaten it with utter annihilation. You see, the information I have says this is their biggest operating base, filled with fuel, medical facilities, and weapons. If we threaten it, then, and only then, will they fully engage us in battle. They cannot afford to lose this place."

  He sighed and looked out at the chunks of
flotsam now blotting out the stars.

  "Time is our enemy out here in the Tenth Quadrant. We receive a trickle of support from homeworld and whatever mercenaries our people can pay for. These Anicinàbe have the overt support of their entire people while ours bicker and argue, making our lives difficult."

  General Makos then snarled, a common enough expression with him.

  "The Anicinàbe are like a pack of small animals. A single, brutal show of force will scatter them. I intend on hitting them so hard their ancestors will wake from their slumber. But first we have to get them to engage, and not run away. It isn't proving easy, is it?"

  The Captain nodded in agreement. Though large in number, the majority of the Anicinàbe were damaged from repeated engagements that had seen them chased from Karnak and off to the safety of what remained of the planet of Medamud. There had been relatively few pitched battles, and the Anicinàbe knew only too well the dangers faced by approaching groups of Byotai ships. Like the Byotai themselves, their ships were built to withstand incredible punishment in battle.

  "They fight in space the same as they fight on the ground. Hit and run, striking where we are weak, and then withdrawing; it's no way for a warrior to fight."

  General Makos could hardly disagree with that sentiment but also understood how the tactics matched the tactical situation and the resources available to them. If he were in their position, he would do much the same. He clenched his fist and turned his attention back to the enemy. They were close now, so close he could almost taste them.

  Just a little closer and this will be all over.

  Months before this had been the Anicinàbe grand invasion force, but that had been split and large contingents spread throughout the Quadrant to support the conflict. Of them all, this was the largest single fleet, and the one that made reinforcing Karnak so difficult. Most carried the markings of the Spires, with just a dozen or so major Red Scars ships remaining. They were completely reliant on the large numbers of smaller craft, none of which would have much of a chance against a large warship. New shapes appeared every minute or so, and it was clear they did not want the Byotai in this region of space. Captain Minkov noticed the General was observing the densest part of the debris in this area.