War of the Exiles

by Michael G. Thomas

  "We gave up a repeat business contract on Kerberos for this. Our reputation will take a hit."

  Syala leaned to her side and struck her sister in the shoulder. It was only light, but Arana still seemed far from impressed.

  "Come on, you saw the numbers Gun and the Brigadier have called on. Every merc outfit in the old territories is moving in on this payday. This is no small mission. They are paying top price for any mercenary unit prepared to sign up. This will be the biggest off the books operation in history."

  She looked back at the World Ship and opened her eyes even wider. It truly was the great wonder that had been rumoured about. The ship was something few had seen outside of the IAB, or those few brave souls that battled inside the Black Rift back in the bloody Biomech War. Images of it were kept strictly out of public view, but that didn't stop people from creating artistic impressions of what they expected to find. It was a rough looking vessel, much in common with a giant sea creature.

  "We can't afford to miss out on this one."

  Arana sighed, simultaneously gazing at the incredible sight before her.

  "More like you can't afford to miss out on him."

  The two exchanged a look that only siblings could possibly have understood.

  "Who?"

  That answer made Arana laugh for the first time in hours.

  "Spartan. If this mission had been to haul oxen from one world to another, you would have said yes. All to spend some time with the man."

  Syala gave her sister a knowing wink.

  "You don't know him like I do. But...I'm sure he would if..."

  Arana struck her sister with surprising ferocity, just as the internal speakers announced another message from the space control station on the World Ship.

  "This is landing control. You are locked in and will proceed on path alpha three. Auto landing sequence in effect. Please remain hands off."

  Arana lifted her hands in an exaggerated gesture from the controls, and then turned back to her twin. Though both were physically tough and experienced in the rigueur of combat, there was still no way to tell them apart. They were lightly tanned, and their long blonde hair almost always pushed back inside their armour.

  "Keep it in your pants, sister. We've got work to do."

  The ship groaned once more as it twisted about three more degrees so that its landing feet were correctly orientated. In just a few seconds they were through the outer seal and inside the upper dock. Many more ships were there, including a number of Alliance warships. Special brackets held dozens of drone fighters, including large numbers of the X1 support drone. These advanced craft were the equal of most races primary fighters, yet smaller and partially autonomous.

  "Look," said Arana.

  Her hand pointed off to the right where four much larger fighters were moving out on a motorised gantry.

  "What are they?"

  Syala brought up the schematics on the control computer. These were not taken from the main cortex, but instead from their private server. Though data on the cortex was useful, it was never as accurate as the sources they collated themselves. By disseminating their information and then merging it with that from the cortex, it was possible to collect data on almost any subject.

  "I've got a proposal from CTC to Alliance military requisition for a craft called the XB49 Reaper. It's a heavy weapons support platform for fighter squadrons. It says here that several units have been purchased for testing by Orion Command."

  Arana nodded as though she was vaguely interested.

  "Reckon we could get one donated to the Widows? It's not like Orion Command is lacking in assets right now."

  Syala laughed.

  "If only. Something tells me we'll have to rely on our own modification for the time being. You know how the Alliance is with drone tech."

  Arana looked back to the navigation system and checked their progress. A series of bars and ladders marked their approach vector, as well as their current speed in relation to their assigned platform. The World Ship's controllers moved the ship further inside and close to another transport that was manoeuvring out of the dock. Though designed to perform a similar function, this was in common with their basic designs.

  The majority of the transports built in the Alliance were large, cumbersome looking vessels designed to haul goods over massive distances. In the past the majority of companies made use of low burn engines, including advanced Ion drives to keep ships moving on continuous loops between planets. The Interstellar Network of Spacebridges rendered that idea moot, and this ship had been designed to take full advantage of that fact. Gone was the ability to carry goods for months, or even years, and in its place cargo space and massive engine power. In effect, the assault transport was purpose built as a blockade-runner.

  Echidna was unlike any other civilian vessel, and her origins as a military armoured transport were still easy to see. She might have had her military hardware removed, including her weapon systems, but she was still a tougher vessel than anything else found in the civilian sphere. As a Juggernaut class vessel, she was originally designed to transport armoured vehicles between worlds back in the days of the old Confederacy; and still bore the markings of multiple landings under hostile fire.

  The large vessel moved onto its landing approach with little change in its orientation. Smaller nozzles fitted from bow to stern made subtle course corrections until they were just metres from the designated zone. If the landing were in a sealed atmosphere, the sound would have been deafening. Instead it was silent and gentle. With barely a groan from the platform, the ship landed, and a series of magclamps extended out and attached to the ship.

  "We're in," said Arana.

  Her voice was calm, but her sister could easily identify the relief. This was no ordinary landing, but an arrival at a place unlike any they had visited before. The view from the cockpit shifted as the platform moved from the outer dock and through a sealed system before reaching the pressurised inner dock of the vessel. Here they would find a breathable atmosphere, and more important, artificial gravity. Arana sighed as the platform positioned alongside a group of five others, and then lowered down to the flat lower level.

  "Gravity. I can feel it pulling everything down."

  Syala groaned with pleasure as she extended her arms and felt her muscles being forced to work. Even short journeys through space were something of a chore, and she hated the feeling that her body was softening after too long in zero gravity.

  "Finally. My bones need this."

  Arana was still more interested in the view of the ship that lay before them. It was much better lit than it had been in the past, but its origins as the orbital home of the Biomechs was still quite obvious.

  "So, we made it through the Black Rift and to this place. I still can't believe it."

  The two of them looked out at the vessel in total silence. The Taxxu System, previously known as the Black Rift, now served as the home to the surviving Biomechs and their legions of artificial foot soldiers, the Thegns. These rebels had proven influential in bringing the war to an end, and with Taxxu returned to them, they had become one of the Alliance's richest and most prized resources. The self-governing territory relied upon the marines and ships of the Alliance to keep it safe, while providing a distant location for the Alliance and their newest combat unit, the Interstellar Assault Brigade.

  "Let's go."

  It didn't take long for them to exit via one of the small ramps that led out under the chin of the transport. As Syala reached the bottom, she lowered herself to one knee and spoke quietly to herself, and then rose back to her feet. The landing platform was connected via a long jetty extension to the primary deck of the inner dock. Arana scanned the dock, finding heavy loaders, armoured soldiers, and walking machines, but no sign of anybody looking for them. There was just a single group of four IAB marines waiting at the end of the long jetty, and they were watching the transport with little interest.

  "So, no welcoming party. Typical." />
  Syala pulled out a secpad from her flank and quickly scanned the information.

  "Message from the Brigadier. He says the officers are observing unit demonstrations in the arena."

  "And? What about us?"

  Syala looked up at her.

  "We're to bring a squad for the live firing demonstration."

  Arana did not seem overly impressed.

  "You can't beat a little advance notice, can you? Still, at least we were prepared for this. I told you to expect trouble when we got here."

  She then pulled out her own device and sent commands to the squad leaders inside the transport. As she placed the unit back at her side, the large loading ramp under the primary cargo area began to open.

  "True," replied Syala, "But what do you really expect? The Brigadier is calling in combat units for a reason, and you saw the last message when we came through the Rift. Time is critical, and he wants only the best."

  Arana laughed.

  "One thing we can promise them, little sister, is that until we get there, they haven't seen the best."

  A loud thud announced the disconnection of the locking mechanism on the ramp. Then came a great hiss as clouds puffed out from the entrance. The ramp began to descend, its pistons screeching as it dropped lower and lower. It was slow and took almost thirty seconds before it reached the ground with a dull thunk. Down came a dozen armoured warriors, each attired in customised black body armour, much of which came from old Confederate Army stores. It was bulkier than the gear normally worn by marines and designed to absorb greater damage in assault scenarios. Additional plates increased the bulk around the collar and limbs, and they appeared a little ungainly as they moved.

  On the backs of each of the Widows were detachable packs, overbearing in both size and weight, with vents at the bottom and sides. The group assembled in a single line, shoulder-to-shoulder, and waited for their orders. Arana walked along them, checking their armour and weapons.

  "This is the Biomech World Ship, home of the IAB, and the assembly point for the special operations unit. You've seen the proposed pay. This is a tier Alpha operation, with a high mortality rate, and the rewards compensate for it."

  While Arana continued to speak, Syala moved to each of the warriors and rechecked their gear. The armour was well fitted and apart from the marks and scratches of battle, webbing, pouches, and extra gear were all carefully positioned so as to not get in the way, still allowing the maximum combat load to be carried. All carried sheathed firearms on their forearms, and their rifles and carbines were attached to mount points on their armour.

  "We do not know the test, but you have been through hell before. Watch your comrades, and keep your eye on the objective."

  All twelve responded at once, like a line of machines repeating an order.

  "Good. Now, follow us."

  Arana then turned to her sister who was still checking the harness on one of the short warriors.

  "Syala. Do you know the route to the arena?"

  The young woman hesitated for a second.

  "Yes, I do. Spartan sent me the schematic for the public area. Follow me."

  They walked to the end of the jetty, whereupon the four marines blocked their path. None of them spoke, but their weapons were ready to hand, and they clearly meant business. Arana indicated towards her thirteen comrades.

  "Arana and Syala, commanders of the Black Widows. We're..."

  One of the men looked at the two of them with an expressionless gaze.

  "Hello, ladies, welcome to Kha'Dri, and Taxxu."

  The man sounded almost bored as he spoke.

  "For your information, this ship, as well as this entire system operates under the military jurisdiction of Alliance Orion Command. We might be a long way from the AJ Naval Station, but we still operate under standard military regulations. There are no exceptions."

  The sisters looked to each other, and neither looked impressed at their welcome. It sounded as though the man had given the speech already, but that was of little concern to them. Arana sighed and moved closer again to the man.

  "Understood. Now, we are..."

  "I know why you're here."

  The sergeant, a gruff looking man with a shaved head and different colour eyes said the words slowly, almost like he was reading from a sheet. He squinted as he looked at the two sisters, and then to the rest of the squad. He seemed particularly intrigued by their armour.

  "All female, huh?"

  He shook his head with amusement, so Syala moved closer to him so that their faces were just centimetres from each other.

  "What's your point?"

  The man tightened his brow and then sighed.

  "You're late. The others are already busy in the arena. Do you need me to get a marine to show you the way?"

  Syala shook her head.

  "No, we're good, Sergeant. We might be women, but I'm sure we can find our own way."

  The man smiled at her in a sarcastic, knowing way.

  "Of course you do. Very well...that way."

  He stepped aside and waved them through without even checking the others as they entered. In any other facility, the fourteen warriors may have seemed some kind of a threat, but on this facility they were a pinprick. The journey to the arena was longer than expected and gave the two of them time to examine the interior of the World Ship at a leisurely pace, as well as watching the bewildering array of soldiers and mercenaries that littered the place. In just four hundred metres, they'd already encountered Byotai mercenaries, Khreenk pilots, Human marines, and even an entire platoon of fully armoured Thegns.

  A long ramp led up from the deck and to the next level, providing a perfect few of the sprawling open space in the inner dock. The sisters stopped for a few seconds to look back. Syala seemed positively excited, but Arana was much more apprehensive.

  "This is no Alliance operation, no matter what the Brigadier said. This is a black ops organisation, and a big one."

  Syala slapped her sister on the pack, the metal and plastic of their armour making a cracking sound from the impact.

  "Of course. Why else would they be looking for people like us? We do tend to do the jobs that are right under the radar, do we not? And is this place not the most under the radar location you could ever find?"

  Arana had little to say, so they turned back to the ramp and onwards into the vessel. Few outside of the organisations involved with Taxxu knew anything about the technology programme. The World Ship and the long lost colonies of the Biomechs were a goldmine that provided scientific discoveries on a scale never before dreamed of. The rebels were more than willing to trade this information, in exchange for help in rebuilding their long ruined sector of space. Of all the structures now orbiting the planet of Taxxu Prime, the largest was always the Biomech World Ship known as Kha’Dri. It now functioned as a mighty starbase, barracks, and shipyard for the Alliance.

  The interior of the Biomech World Ship always seemed to sound the same, that curious mixture of metal on metal, shouting, and then the pneumatic hammer of machinery. In the past it had been Biomechs and their war machines; now it was the men and women of the Interstellar Assault Brigade. The World Ship was an orbital behemoth that floated over the Biomech planet of Taxxu Prime and functioned as both the home of the surviving Biomech rebels and the IAB. The group rounded the final corner and into the wide corridor that led to the arena. On each side were great sculptures of warriors and war machines. But as they moved closer, it seemed they were actually the real thing, frozen and dormant. Syala appeared excited.

  "Spartan told me about this part, the hall of fallen warriors, or something."

  Then she stopped and pointed ahead to the great domed structure.

  "And that there, that is the place."

  Arana sighed with relief.

  "Good, about time. Last thing we need is to arrive late and miss the party. We've turned down good work for this operation."

  They stopped at the entrance to let a squad of Ma
verick armoured marines leave the area. They were massive, but the construction used every conceivable option to keep them as agile as possible, with weight saved on the limbs and torso. All of the Mavericks bore the faded crimson now used by the IAB, most of them showing more bare metal than paint. On the flat sections were the three bold letters that marked out the Brigade. They moved gracefully, with the advanced servos and motors making little, if any noise. They were unlike anything seen before in Alliance use, the heads built directly into the torso; an idea Spartan had suggested, based on his experience with the Biomechs. Two of them helped to carry a third that was missing part of its lower leg.

  "Clear the arena!" yelled an officer from inside.

  The man stepped from the entrance and spotted the new arrivals. He approached them and extended his hands.

  "Lieutenant Kipling, I'm supervising the roll call and capability assessment. You've arrived in the nick of time. We'll be leaving in less than six hours. According to my file...you've brought three squads of...Black Widows, as requested. Is that right?"

  The sisters looked to each other and then back to him.

  "That is correct. This is 1st Squad, ready for the demonstration."

  The marine officer wore an almost complete set of M-3 armour that covered him from neck to feet. There were few others currently attired in combat armour, but with so much of his body still recovering from surgery, the only way he could continue to command was to take advantage of the automatic drug and monitoring system of the suit. He moved awkwardly, and though he might have been able to hide his injuries from some, it was still obvious to the sisters.

  "Well. Your reputation stands you in good stead. We'd ideally like to take you all, but numbers are limited. It's strictly those that offer us specific capabilities. Heavy assault and unit training are all covered, the only role remaining and reserved for your unit is of recon, deception, and sabotage. We need a heavily armed and armoured unit to offer distractions and confusion during full-scale operations. There are three units competing for it."