War of the Exiles

by Michael G. Thomas

  "Interesting, very interesting."

  He nodded his head slowly, and a sigh slipped out from his lips.

  "So the Anicinàbe Council has finally collapsed, and two clans have been destroyed to the very last soul. Curious."

  His mouth changed shape, and the tips of his teeth became visible.

  "This serves as an important reminder as to why the Anicinàbe are trying so hard to make us leave this place. They are hanging on by a thread, just as I suspected."

  He took in a long, relaxed breath as he considered the information.

  "Their own territories are crumbling, and you can guarantee any reinforcements coming to the border will be ordered to return. This is good, my friend, very good."

  He then made a strange sound in his throat that resonated up through to his mouth.

  "You have to feel sorry for them, Commander."

  The General's sarcasm was often difficult to identify, but not this time. Commander Kratochvil seemed especially pleased, no doubt due to his time spent fighting on the ground on Karnak. He and the General had personally led multiple sorties against many of the Anicinàbe fortifications that had popped up all over the planet; any news that the enemy had been weakened was welcome news indeed. Commander Kratochvil pointed to the mapping information highlighting the trouble in enemy territory.

  "The Anicinàbe can be relied on to always turn against each other. One disagreement and the clans will be back at each other's throats, just like they always do. That would explain why so many of the clan chiefs have been returning home."

  General Makos laughed.

  "Exactly. I don't really care what has happened to them. They butcher each other as readily as they do with our people. Maybe it's a coup, or maybe the Biomechs have been unleashed from a hidden world."

  Commander Kratochvil looked surprised at the mention of the hated enemy.

  "Whatever has happened to them, the important thing for us is that it means we have a chance. We will not have long, though. Once this violence is over, they will be back, and possibly in greater numbers."

  "General Makos, I have an incoming message from one of the larger ships."

  At that very moment the Anicinàbe ships began to pull back a short distance, and reformed in separate divisions around the battleship and the fighters. The space between then was littered with inert ammunition, broken missiles, and chunks of shattered spacecraft. All of this mixed in with the debris field to make it an even more inhospitable place than it had been.

  "Show me."

  The holographic image appeared in the middle of the deck, and in great detail. The communication systems of both the Anicinàbe and the Byotai were highly advanced and capable of high-resolution mapping data in real-time. Any Anicinàbe would have gathered an angry response, but this particular individual drew angry snorts and hisses from the reptilian crew. Only General Makos seemed unsurprised at the face.

  "Tarak," he said.

  "...the Butcher," added Commander Kratochvil.

  The Anicinàbe warrior tilted his head and gave them both a mock bow. He clearly had little time for the Byotai, and as he spoke, his jaw appeared to tremble with anticipation. General Makos leaned in towards his second-in-command.

  "Give the order to the fleet. They must be ready to reform and accelerate, on my command. It will not be long now."

  "General Makos of the illustrious Byotai Empire. You have no business in the Marche, and I offer you the chance to end this...disagreement, peacefully."

  The General turned away and began speaking with one of the junior officers. He was being intentionally rude and provocative, leaving the negotiations to Commander Kratochvil who found it increasingly hard to hide his look of surprise and amusement. This went on for almost a minute before Tarak increased the volume of his voice. His anger was already barely concealed, and now it burst out for all to see and hear.

  "Stop your childish games, Makos. I am giving you one chance to leave this sector."

  Now the General returned but appeared little concerned at the threat.

  "You have no chance of victory out here. You are outnumbered three to one, and I have weapons stockpiled here that will easily annihilate your fleet. The Medamud Debris Field rightfully belongs to the Anicinàbe."

  The General looked to his right and checked the disposition of forces. The Byotai were still falling back, albeit at a very slow speed. The Anicinàbe were spread out to make them look significant. Unknown to any of them was the one hidden force, one that had made it this far into the field undetected. Only a single green icon marked their position.

  It is time, my Khreenk friends; time for you to do your work.

  He leaned in close so that his head filled the view.

  "I give you a chance for peace and to avoid war. Stay here, old one, and your fellow cold-bloods will face my...attention."

  The Anicinàbe warrior moved his tongue along the bottom of his upper lip. It was slow so that anybody watching would see his tongue gently sliding along the flesh. General Makos was not intimidated and merely laughed at the threat. At the same time, Commander Kratochvil whispered into his ear while examining a tactical map.

  "They are closing in on our position. Four groups, over a hundred ships in total. All have activated their weapons and are preparing to fire."

  General Makos leaned in close to the communication unit and opened his mouth wide. His teeth glistened as he spoke. At the same time, he depressed a button on the console beside him. It sent the code the squadron of ships was waiting for. He could not see them, but already his mind was filled with the imagery of the ten Khreenk Corsairs, the infamous ships that plied so many shipping lanes looking for booty and salvage.

  They will pin the Anicinàbe, and my brothers will do the rest.

  "Tarak. You will have my answer, and it is one of blood. You have my personal guarantee than any captain that surrenders will be stripped of his ship and weapons, and banished from the Quadrant for life."

  He then licked his lips, savouring the moment.

  "Any that resists, well, they will suffer annihilation. As will your hidden base, or should I simply call it...your base."

  With a single gesture the signal was cut, and he looked to his senior officers.

  "They don't know we are aware of their prisoners. Send the signals to Colonel Gun and the IAB, and to our fleet. It is time for this to end. Do not stop until every ship, defence platform, and fighter is a burning hulk! Today is the day where Tarak and his Anicinàbe friends will pay for their crimes."

  The order spread through the fleet like wildfire, and in minutes the entire Byotai formation had moved back and accelerated into the confused mass of Anicinàbe ships. Not even the loss of six fighters and an assault transport would hold them back. Some of the enraged Byotai even rammed their warships directly into the damaged Anicinàbe vessels, desperate to avenge themselves upon those that had caused them so much calamity.

  General Makos watched the return of his forces as they swept past his battleship and on. The larger number of enemy ships quickly engulfed them, yet the violence and ferocity of the Byotai knew no bounds. In just ten more minutes, six of the Anicinàbe ships were gone, and the rest had broken formation. Every direction seemed to show dozens of ships engaged in battle. The Byotai appeared to have the upper had, but a large contingent of Anicinàbe had broken away from battle and were withdrawing to the safety of the base. General Makos watched them leave with a mixture of surprise and elation.

  Today the Medamud Debris Field will drip with Anicinàbe blood. We finally have our first victory.

  He turned to his officers.

  "Send the signal to homeworld. It's time they heard of a victory. We need support, and this will spread to every Byotai settlement and colony in days."

  He then turned his attention to the location of their hidden enemy base. As he watched it, a trio of three ships appeared. They were big, much larger than cruisers and their glowing nacelle rings looked like flashing stars. O
ne moment it had been empty space, and the next the three ships were there and already their guns were online.

  Impressive, very impressive!

  "Focus fire on Tarak's vessel. I want him gone, for good this time. Oh, and send in two squadrons to the base. Spartan and his comrades could probably do with some support. They are going to have a difficult time as it is getting inside that place.

  * * *

  Anicinàbe Space Station 'Tasquiqui', Medamud Debris Field

  The Anicinàbe space station shook violently as the approaching ships unleashed their primary weapons against the long entry airlock system. The quadruple particle cannons of the new ships proved devastating, and exploded parts of the docking arms and landing area in seconds. The garrison's commander, Ogimà Tarnachi, staggered backwards as the very ground beneath his feet began to move. He was lightly built, like the rest of the Spires Clan, and wore a long robe that covered his tightly fitted breastplate. Black goggles and a breathing unit that was jammed around his nose and cheeks hid his face. An alarm blasted loudly, confirming his worst fear.

  "I need reinforcements in the landing bay, now! The enemy has breached the airlock. They are coming in."

  Ogimà Tarnachi moved back from the landing bay and to a set of steps that twisted around at ninety degrees down to a lower level. Two-dozen Anicinàbe clan warriors were already waiting for the enemy. All of them knelt and aimed their rifles at the blast door. The main landing area was vast and constructed from flat, smooth material that glistened like obsidian. Gigantic blast doors were lowered down, and outside those additional layers to protect against impacts or intruders. The facility was capable of handling dozens of ships and many shuttles and landers at any one time. The walls were bare, and marks showed signs of rust and decay that betrayed the place’s origin as being a derelict station from many centuries ago.

  "Ogimà!" yelled a familiar voice.

  He looked back and relaxed upon spotting a column of Spires soldiers. There were more than fifty, every one fully armoured and carrying a rifle across their chest.

  Finally. If one fool makes it through, we will make them pay.

  Ogimà Tarnachi reached for his sidearm as the first half of the unit reached the top of the steps. No sooner had the officer in charge reached Tarnachi, and the blast doors were ripped apart. Ogimà Tarnachi was blown back and crashed into a pair of his clan warriors. The three stumbled backwards even further, finally stopped by a single, much larger Anicinàbe warrior. The automatic shielding compensated for the breached airlocks. It wasn't much but enough to prevent a full and rapid depressurisation. Ogimà Tarnachi took aim with his pistol as the first shapes entered.

  "Fire!"

  The high-velocity Jezzail rifles carried by the clan warriors were accurate and powerful. Though relatively unsophisticated, they were capable of hurling dense slugs so fast that even the armour of robotic machines could be breached. A dozen grey warriors rushed forward, and every one of them was cut apart in just five seconds of shooting.

  Yes. The fools have no understanding of tactics. They will suffer...and badly.

  Another group of the foot soldiers kept coming, and this time they clambered over their fallen comrades while firing energy weapons. Narrow pulses of green energy punched through the armour of the Anicinàbe warriors, and each hit made a terrifying sound as the super-heated projectile exploded in a micro-explosion while inside the armour or flesh.

  "Keep shooting!"

  Four of his kin were down and twice as many wounded. Others helped drag the wounded back, yet still the machines came at them. Ogimà Tarnachi clutched at a fallen Jezzail and took aim. The shot was perfect and hit a machine right in the head area. The round flashed and then skidded off into the wall. Tarnachi turned to step back from the onslaught but then spotted a secondary door slide open to the left. A great horde of Anicinàbe warriors, this time armourless fanatics of the Red Scars. The defeated clan had been absorbed by the Spires and now used for forced labour, or as volunteers for shock troops.

  Excellent timing.

  Ogimà Tarnachi stepped up onto the vast landing platform. He waved to the other warriors around him.

  "With me. We will drive them back!"

  The Spires unleashed a terrible volley of gunfire, while the Red Scars threw themselves at the machines with no care for their own lives. None were armed with firearms in case of revolt, and instead made use of sharp stakes and clubs. More of the enemy machines were brought down, and for just a moment, it looked like they might win. Then came the monsters, the great ogres that Ogimà Tarnachi had heard of, but never seen.

  What is this devilry?

  From the breached blast doors they came, two warriors that towered over the rest. He could not make out the details, but they were big, covered in armour, and wielding plasma based weaponry that vaporised his kin with every hit. Two more moved in, and these were larger ones. They fired with more conventional weaponry and broke formation so that they could crash into the Red Scars. They swung their arms left and right, crushing bones and flesh while howling with blood lust. The other two moved more slowly and continued blasting. The guns on their arms cut down warrior after warrior.

  This is insanity. These are not warriors. They are beasts from the abyss.

  Ogimà Tarnachi was the first to turn and began to work his way back, clambering over the bodies of the dead and wounded. One reached up for help, and he pushed past, ignoring the pleas for help, or perhaps even mercy.

  "Fall back!"

  Ogimà Tarnachi nearly made it until a round from one of the smaller robots hit his leg and burst below the knee. The leg was cut in half, and he fell to the ground, instantly disabled. Other rounds struck his shoulder, and he was thrown back and pinned to the wall. From there he had the perfect view of the battle as the machines ran amok, cutting down his warriors with ease.

  As the Anicinàbe began to flee, the enemy came nearer, and eventually directly under the bright yellow lights of the landing bay. He spotted the four large creatures as they hacked and stabbed like ancient monsters surrounded by their foes. Two laughed as they fought, their voices amplified through their speakers in their guttural alien tongue.

  I...must...

  Ogimà Tarnachi reached for a weapon and found only his secondary pistol, a small affair and unlikely to be of much use. He took aim and fired, one shot after another at the robotic warriors. As he shot, the smaller pair of massive creatures began to hack through the last of the Red Scars; those attempting to shoot back cut down by the large cannons on their shoulders. The weapons moved independently and fired at targets in a continuous slaughter, the hammer like hands of the machines snapping arms and decapitating his warriors like cattle at a slaughterhouse.

  Stay alive, you must...have thing....

  His vision began to fade, and as his life drained away, he noticed one of the warriors. It was not a machine. He could see that now. It walked like the men from Earth, but was larger and encased in powered metal armour. The head was sunk low in part of the torso. Tarnachi lifted his weapon and aimed at the machine. One of the other warriors called out a single word, a name he'd heard of, but never expected to come across. The massive warrior spun around and took aim at him.

  Spartan.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Six intact worlds, and a seventh that lay a shattered husk. Yet of these, the jewel was Karnak. The riches and number of colonists on this one planet equalled the total of the other five. Karnak's location was optimal for climate, the result being that ninety percent of the Anicinàbe and Byotai settlers opted for Karnak, boosting its total population to more than three million souls. That world was covered in deep, drifting sands of stone and dust that left only one large landmass habitable. This region was divided up into four districts, all of them led by the capital city of Montu, situated deep inside the mountain district of Khagi. To the North of Khagi were the flat and featureless Northlands, with few features other than the distant range of low hills known by the Byotai as t
he Stone Teeth. They were over seven hundred kilometres to the North. To the South lay the three thousand kilometres of dust, sand, and rock, known commonly as the Great Sea. At the lowest inhabitable point of the world was the infamous depression, a region populated with hundreds of deep caverns that cut down into the heart of Karnak. This was the centre of the mining district, and home to over a million Byotai, most of which now lived under the yoke of their Anicinàbe masters.

  History of the Tenth Quadrant

  Assault Transport 'Echidna', Taxxu Prime, Centauri Alliance

  The great sphere of colours shifted and twisted about as ships travelled through the Rift in time and space. A ship could enter on the one side back on the fringes of the ancient Helion territories, and then immediately appear on the other side at Taxxu, domain of the ancient enemy. Normally, there were few making the journey, but not today. One vessel after another came through, a major transport arriving every five to six hours. The most recent was the unmarked transport from the Human worlds of the Alliance. With a final blast of its engines, it twisted about its length to align with the newly enlarge docking area on the World Ship. Lights flashed all about the massive vessel, giving clear indication to the landing paths to any ships looking to land within its cavernous interior.

  "Well, there it is," said Syala.

  The young woman was strapped into her seat by a cross-strap arrangement that stopped her from drifting inside the ship. For all the sophistication of her engines and weapons, the vessel still lacked the niceties of artificial gravity. At her side was her twin sister, Arana, co-founder of the secretive Black Widows.

  "Dark and unwelcoming, just as we expected."

  Unlike Syala, Arana seemed far less excited to be here than her sister. The journey had been long, and not even the pair of Alliance Lightning fighters at their flanks seemed to improve her mood or her confidence in the venture they were about to embark upon.