War of the Exiles

by Michael G. Thomas

  He turned to leave but stopped.

  "There's one more thing. That last attack destroyed several of the surface structures. Knock down what's left of the damaged ones behind the wall, and get me two or three landing pads cleared. Oh, and make sure they are protected by air defences. We don't want any surprises."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Sekieki were an entire clade of bird-hipped reptiles forming one of the largest groups of animals in the worlds of the Byotai Empire. Unlike the ancient creatures of humanity, many of these Sekieki coexisted on the genetically diverse worlds of the Byotai, as well as some of the border territories taken by the Anicinàbe. The animal populations were controlled and protected, ensuring large numbers lived in the wild. Over the millennia the Byotai learnt to travel through space, and quickly colonised the nearby worlds to create a realm of dozens of worlds. Other races moved into the region, and the native species of Sekieki began to suffer. Available land decreased, as did the supplies of food, leading to bloodthirsty conflict. Centuries later the Sekieki are all but extinct in the Byotai Empire, with only the sanctuary of Sovax housing large wild populations. Many wealthy clan chiefs and warlords amongst both the Byotai and Anicinàbe now breed different sub species of Sekieki as beasts of burden, for sport and as mounts for scouting parties. Rumours became fact when the warriors of the Red Scars clan used Sekieki in battle on Karnak for the first time. They would prove a useful, if unorthodox alternative to light vehicles for reconnaissance parties and raiders.

  Myths and Legends of Orion

  Fortress of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

  Spartan marched along the formation of mercenary units, while machines continued to clatter away in the background. Hundreds of workers were now out of the underground positions and busy making space for the new trench, repairing the existing wall, or helping to carry the vast stocks of supplies still sitting out in the open. The transports had brought much more than mercenaries and their weapons. They’d brought an equal amount of non-military aid, including food, clothing, and water. One of the containers even held dozens of excavators and utility machines that were being moved into position to start work on the defences.

  They look good. That's something at least.

  A single squad of the Blood Pack helped carry the heavy units containing tracking systems and mounts for the CTC manufactured air defence systems. They were the latest models and even newer than the most recent deliveries to the Alliance Marine Corps. Another group moved the weapons themselves, each a missile of two metres in length and mated to a special collar unit that fitted them inside the weapon platform.

  Spartan stopped once reaching the middle of the formation. At his flank was Syala, the remaining leaders of the three groups waited in front of their own units. The three mercenary outfits could not have been more different. The contract for the black ops detachment of the Byotai operation was to provide three combat squads each, with a capped limit of fifty warriors per mercenary unit. They had all supplied what had been requested. Spartan would have liked ten times that number, but the ships were already packed with equipment and supplies, plus the vast numbers of Exiles so keen to join the war effort.

  So, these are my elite warriors, the best money can buy.

  At first glance they seemed a little pitiful. The Black Widows consisted of thirty-six warriors plus their leaders; the other two had no more than fifty each. In total it was little more than a combat company.

  "Watch out!"

  Spartan twisted to his left and moved back to allow a group of four tracked utility loaders to pass. They were small variants of forklift machines but fitted out with tracks for use on Karnak. They were busy moving huge containers filled with liquid. Spartan examined the lettering on the sides but found nothing more helpful than Byotai runic letters.

  Typical. That could be water or flammable fuel. Who knows?

  Once they'd past him, Spartan looked out at the assembled soldiers he'd requested. Though very different, the three units had worked together for days now, and he'd seen their combat drills in a variety of scenarios. They were good, and based on their reputations; he knew they could do what he needed. The mercenaries were flanked by three of the brand new Jackal MK II dropships, the latest incarnations of the craft designed and built for the Interstellar Assault Brigade. Whereas the first generation had been a sleek, partially stealthy insertion vehicle, the MK II had taken only the engines and power systems and mated them with an entirely new body. The end result was a larger, more brutish craft, perfectly suited for high-intensity operations.

  They are exactly as we designed them.

  Spartan smiled to himself, secretly rather pleased with what they had created. The Maulers of the Alliance were big and cumbersome. These Jackals were almost as capable, but smaller and faster. For this operation there had been some major changes, one of which was to remove all makers’ marks and Alliance equipment. This included everything from weapons to avionics. The end result was a machine that could easily have been constructed for export. These three were all stripped of their exterior markings and now plain metal. Only a few areas still showed any signs of the paintwork they had left the automated factories with. The only signs of colour were just the subtle marks of red on their missile systems that were placed far back on the upper hull, and the long black barrels of the two gun turrets fitted on each side of the front hull. Their four engines had twisted about so that their powerful thrusters were now pointing directly at the ground, like four stubby legs, with enough space underneath to drive an armoured vehicle.

  Well, they aren't Alliance military issue...technically.

  Spartan was still not convinced he would be able to get away with using them, but he had little choice. Just sourcing the vast number of resources to supply the Exiles was something short of a miracle. Each of them required clothing, body armour, weaponry, ammunition, and a whole plethora of supplies to keep fighting in the field. The price ended up lower than expected, especially with stocks of redundant equipment still piled high on the shattered worlds of the Helions.

  All of the materiel assembled was fine for a stand up fight, but for his mercenaries he needed speed and mobility, and that was not something that could be improvised. The Jackals were something quite different, and there were was little chance they would be mistaken for Byotai craft. Spartan looked at the lettering beneath the cockpits that showed their names. The paintwork was new but rubbed and worn intentionally to give the impression it had been there for many months. Spartan could not read them from here, not because of the size but simply due to the letters actually being Byotai glyphs.

  Nice touch, but I doubt that will fly with any real inspection. Still, they have a certain mercenary look to them. They'll work. They'd better work.

  To Spartan's left and out in front of the three Jackals was the Helion 5 unit. This was the first time he'd seen them, but they came highly recommended by those that had seen them in action over the last three years. They were the largest organisation supplying private security units, and ran five separate facilities throughout the old worlds of the Helions. Their headquarters was at Helios Prime, and the company had recruited warriors that fought in the Helion armies in the war, as well as non-Humans from the Khreenk and T'Kari. They all wore lightweight Helion armour in the traditional hues of yellow and orange, and carried Helion thermal rifles at their shoulders. On their heads were tall peaked helmets that featured smoked visors over the top of the face and narrow horse-hair style plumes pushed up into a short, but dense shape.

  "Helion 5, are you ready for combat operations?"

  A single member of their unit, disguisable only by the different colour of his plume, stepped forward and signalled with his right arm.

  "Yes, Helion 5 ready."

  The accent was thick and laced with the odd enunciation of the Sh'Dori, the most privileged of the four Helion castes. The Helions fought a civil war in the early days of the conflict. That ended only with the attack on the Black Rift
and a final victory for the Alliance of races. Spartan had known many Helions, but there was something about the Sh'Dori accent that made him suspicious.

  How many of your warriors are Zathee, I wonder?

  Spartan was tempted to find out more, but he had far more pressing things to concern himself with. The very fact the Helion 5 unit was there, on Karnak, and waiting for battle was more than enough for him. Their reputation suggested they were nothing short of the professionals they claimed to be.

  Interesting choice of gear! Gun said they are the best-paid unit on Helios. We'll soon find out.

  Spartan smiled but found it hard to pull it off and ended up with something closer to a grimace.

  "Very good."

  He turned around and found Syala looking right back at him.

  "They are good. I've worked with them before. They don't like Humans much, though."

  Spartan shrugged.

  "I don't care who they like. The fools are here to fight for the Byotai, not us."

  Next up were the Black Widows who took up the middle of the formation, with the dark armour and jet-assisted packs fitted. With all this extra gear they looked substantially bulkier than the other two units. Spartan noted that several were carrying heavy pieces of equipment slaved to their armour.

  "That's new."

  Syala took moment before finding what he was looking at.

  "Yes, we adopted some of the ideas of the Khreenk. They've been experimenting with gyro-stabilised weaponry for their vehicles."

  "That is not a vehicle, Syala."

  Syala walked up to her warriors and placed her hand on the side of the weapon.

  "I know. This is a standardised mounting, and we're testing the idea of using two per squad of twelve. The mounts fit directly to the backpack unit and can carry a variety of weapon packages. I think you'll like what we've done."

  Spartan liked what he saw, but there was no time to spend examining weapons when there was a battle to be fought. He moved on from the Black Widows and stopped in front of the odd unit from the infamous Dynax Corporation. The group waited in silence, but where the other two were perfect examples of conformity, this one was the exact opposite; forty-five Khreenk, and every single one of them a unique warrior. All wore armour, but no two were alike. Some carried long rifles, others gyro-stabilised machine guns, and at least three with weapon packs fitted onto units on their very backs. The one thing they all had in common was that they looked heavy and brutal next to the elegant forms of the Helion 5, or the uniformity and power of the Black Widows.

  "Dynax Alpha Team, your reputation precedes you. Are you ready for this operation."

  The entire unit shouted in unison that they were ready. Spartan turned back to Syala with a confused expression.

  "Who leads them?"

  Syala shook her head.

  "Dynax never tells you who is in charge. You tell one and they spread the order through the unit. Some say there are no leaders and all decisions are made as a collective. I don't believe that for a minute.

  "No?"

  Syala chuckled.

  "Of course not. A military unit run by committee. When would that ever work?"

  Spartan had no answer for that, and certainly not one he would want to use in front of three such different groups. He had seen their resumes in full, and each had enough experience for any kind of operation, from hit and run attacks, to reconnaissance, or even full-scale assault. Spartan moved his head from left to right, and then stopped, with his hands down at each side of his body. As he opened his mouth, the power units onboard the three Jackals began their start-up sequence.

  "You've been training together since we left Taxxu, and I'm confident we can do what needs to be done here."

  There was complete silence, apart from the ever-increasing howl of the Jackal engines. They were still only partially powered up, but without the amplification provided by his suit, there would have been no chance for them to hear him. As he talked, Syala and Arana had moved to four large metal containers. The units had been in storage inside the heavy transports, and then deposited moment before the large vessels left Karnak. They were large and completely unmarked, save for a tiny logo on the top that marked them as property of the Widows. Each was big enough to house fifty warriors inside, and almost large enough to even take an Alliance Bulldog armoured vehicle. The pair moved to the narrow sections at the end of two containers, and then turned back to look at Spartan.

  "We are going to cause such a fuss in the South that Nakoma and her lackeys will think we are on the warpath, that our counter-offensive has already begun. I want to delay battle here at the walls for as long as possible."

  He gave Syala a nod.

  "Bring them out."

  The doors opened from the top, and each crashed down with an almighty thud. The doors were wide and even though fitted with pneumatic dampeners, they seemed to have little effect on the large chunks of metal. Anybody near them would have been crushed or buried under the dirt. White lights switched on inside the containers, and then from behind the light and dust came the first of Spartan's special vehicles.

  Here they come.

  Spartan had seen them inside the containers, as well as videostream material sent to him by Syala. This was the first time he'd actually seen them out in the open, and as they emerged, he breathed a sigh of relief. One by one the small hovering vehicles moved out, standing just half a metre from the ground, and pushed ahead by turbofan motors underneath and to the rear.

  "These are Helion utility hover Skiffs, and they will be our secret weapon against the enemy."

  They moved out in front of the mercenaries and rose up to a height of two metres from the ground. Each was piloted by a single Black Widow at the rear, and they travelled with speed and agility unlike anything produced by the Alliance. There was just one inside each of the container units, and they moved to the flanks of Spartan and then settled onto the ground. As each moved to within a few centimetres, a set of four articulated legs dropped down and took the weight of the machine. Syala placed a hand on the side plating of one.

  "Recon Skiffs, something you might expect to see used by the clans themselves. Each one can carry six fully equipped soldiers into combat and hit speeds of nearly a hundred kilometres per hour."

  Spartan moved his hand over his head, and one by one the Jackals opened up their bellies. For the uninitiated it looked like they were opening their bomb bays. With each of the craft resting on the four large engines, they gave the impression of a line of cattle waiting to be milked. The Skiffs moved into position alongside the Jackals, and then with barely a sound drifted sideways and directly under the cargo bay. Spartan had given the specs weeks earlier, but even he was surprised at how good the fit was. Though almost the width of the bomb bay, they were short enough that two could fit end to end inside. The Skiffs powered up their systems and rose from the ground until disappearing inside the Jackals.

  "The mag clamps will hold them inside, as well as a combat squad of soldiers."

  He rubbed at his chin and then nodded towards Syala. The sisters moved back until at his side. More engine sounds came from the other container as more of the Skiffs moved out to join the Jackals.

  "Ready?"

  Both gave him a simple signal to the affirmative.

  "Good."

  Spartan then turned back to the assembled warriors.

  "I want one squad of twelve from each of you, with another kitted up and ready for insertion in the next ten hours. Each final squad will stay here and assist Khan with preparing this rabble to defend the walls."

  Again there was silence from the assembled mercenaries. The Skiffs might be new, but all of them knew they were to perform long-distance operations, and he suspected their minds were busy running over the enemy dispositions rather than thinking of Khan and the wall.

  "The Skiffs are our secret weapon; the Helions used them to move ammunition and equipment around the battlefield. We will use them as scout transports. By t
ransporting them aboard the Jackals, we can deploy and then move into position to conduct our attacks. The Jackals can pick them up without even touching the ground."

  Spartan walked around the nearest machine, and its driver jumped off the rear of the Skiff and landed beside him, as it lowered down to just a metre from the ground. Even without a pilot it maintained its position above the ground. Spartan grabbed the side rail and pulled himself aboard. The craft tilted slightly and then righted itself to counter the change in weight and balance with the new passenger. The front was narrow, with an angular nose and protected housing that sheltered the driver on three sides. Angular plating had been added, the windshield replaced with a layered series of plates and small reinforced slits to look through. There were clamps on the ground, as well as straps to hold onto, or to hold down cargo or weaponry. He looked to the mercenaries, all of whom seemed interested in the equipment.

  "You've been practicing long-range sniping and diversionary attack scenarios, and this is how we will get you into the danger zone. We move fast and keep them busy. Speed and firepower will be our shield."

  The Helion commander lifted his arm slightly and spoke using his translation circuit. Spartan tried to hide a smile as the unit struggled to cope with his thick accent.

  "What about the Anicinàbe aircraft? We will not outrun them in these...Skiff machines."

  Spartan turned to his right and pointed at two of the forklift-tracked machines as they moved crates to the Jackals.

  "Alliance surplus Rapier portable missiles systems. Each skiff will carry a tracking unit and launcher module, six missiles. We have reload packs aboard the Jackals, and operators will be coming with us to control them. If anything comes within range, they can expect a missile up the tail pipe."

  The engines of the three Jackals increased in intensity as they built up to full power. Unlike the Skiffs, the sound was incredible, and as they increased in power, Spartan was forced to switch to his internal communications unit.