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
FIRES OF PROMETHEUS
By Michael G. Thomas
PUBLISHED BY:
Swordworks Books
Copyright © 2011 by Michael G. Thomas
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 first Biomechs were encountered during the campaign to retake the Titan Naval Station. It wasn’t until the ground offensive on Prime however, before their true potential was realised. What started as small-scale usage of suicidal fighters quickly turned into the tactical use of the larger models in assault operations. The Biomech itself became an army of options and opportunities.
Evolution of the Biomechs
Kerberos was quiet, much quieter than any of the military personnel could have expected. Almost three months had passed since the end of hostilities in the Proxima Centauri System between the Confederate military and the insurgents under the guidance of the Church of Echidna and her militant allies. Though open warfare had stopped there were still sporadic skirmishes and suicide bombings as the insurgents did their best to spread fear and terror in the civilian population. None of the underlying issues had been resolved and the entire sector had settled into a period of uneasy truce, a kind of space based phoney war where both sides were preparing and waiting for the resurgence of battle. Of the eleven planets in the System the four that were colonised had seceded from the Confederacy. Many of the others teetered on the brink of joining either through fear of what might happen if they didn’t or simply because they lacked faith in the Confederacy to keep them safe. Fort Hood and Confederate military outposts on the other colonies were on full alert and had been since the attacks on the Titan Station that precipitated the start of open hostilities. Of the colonies that split from the Confederacy, none recognised the authority of the Army, Navy or Marine Corps and most had given demands for military forces to leave. Their occupation of colony land was considered an act of war that could lead to the continuation of the war. Admiral Jarvis, the Supreme Commander of all Confederate forces in Proxima Centauri, had given the order than no state land or bases were to be relinquished and that support would be provided to any forces needing assistance.
To the men and women at Fort Hood, deep in the heart of the enemy camp, these seemed to be empty words. With just a small number of combat troops the fort couldn’t be expected to hold out for long if a concerted attack was launched against them. Common sense dictated they evacuate the base and move their units into orbit, but the Navy was refusing to move them. As they waited they could only hope the threat of full-scale colonial warfare between the Confederate colonies and the secessionists would stop both sides pushing for what could become a genocidal conflict. Colonel Towers, an imposing figure and commander of the base, stood in front of a paper map of the area and traced out a number of geographical features not far from their walls.
“If you look here there are four locations where units can be concealed close enough to strike at the walls. We can reach two of them with indirect fire but these two are a real problem. I want remote gun systems positioned here, and here,” he explained as he pointed to the locations on the map.
“What about the cover on the access road to the south?” asked one of the lieutenants.
“That’s already covered. We have a foot patrol out there right now setting up a checkpoint and OP. With these areas covered we should get at least fifteen minutes warning of any ground approaches to the base.”
“Captain, will this give us enough room to get your air units down safely for resupply?” he asked looking across to the small group of Navy personnel stood in the corner.
Captain Erdeniz stepped forward and examined the air corridor provided by the defensive weapons and counter measures. It was his job to ensure the meagre air support they had available was able to bring supplies and aid in when needed. But as the noose around them tightened it was becoming more and more difficult.
“It isn’t perfect but it is big enough to get the small craft down in one piece. If we need to evacuate in a hurry we’ll have to bring in the big birds, for that we’ll need suppression aircraft to keep missiles off our backs, Sir.”
The Colonel turned to look at the assembled officers.
“The situation here is going to hell, I think you all know that.” The rest of the officers were surprised by his candour and at least one chuckled at his comments. The Colonel tried to spot the laughing man but the room quickly quietened down, much to his dismay.
“You’ve seen the reports, the same as I have. The insurgents are thick as thieves with the so-called Church and a good number of the unions here. With offers of free medical support, work for those that want it and free housing it’s not surprising the masses are going for it. Hell, if I hadn’t seen how they are doing this I might even be interested myself. Be under no illusions, gentlemen, the enemy can only achieve their objectives by turning the colonial population into docile servants who will do what they are told and when. One day they will understand this and then it will be much too late.”
“Sir, I don’t see what politics has to do with Confed military forces? Can’t we just leave them to it?” asked a junior officer.
“Leave them to what exactly? Evict us from our bases and disband all colony militia forces so that their biological monstrosities can take over. A population that is unable and unwilling to defend itself will cease to be free. Mark my words, any colony falling for the promises of these people will turn into a slave worker’s paradise in just months. It gets worse though, they do not seek to simply remove us,” he said shaking his hands in anger, “these bastards want to replace us! They hate us with pure, unreasoning hatred and they will not stop until our very way of life is destroyed. You saw the video of the fighting on Prime. They will take by force that which they cannot take by the ballot paper.”
He signalled to one of the Naval Intelligence officers standing at the front.
“Sir, if you look at the big picture it is clear the merging of the political parties, and the sidelining of religions outside of the Church, is creating a dictatorial one party system on Kerberos. This model is spreading through the colonies of Prime and outwards to the other worlds. The bottom line is that it’s easy to just say yes. The enemy is offering an end to hunger, unemployment, illness and even the requirement to defend yourself. The offer is to turn humanity into soft, docile cattle. We have studied our enemy in detail and it gives me no pleasure to inform you that this insidious danger is the greatest threat the Confederacy has ever faced. Even worse, our citizens are welcoming it with open arms!”
The Colonel acknowledged of the officer’s comments and then returned to his position. His body languag
e suggested he was trying to inspire but it looked more like he was preaching. It wasn’t helped by the fact that of all the officers in the room, he was the only one that had yet to face the enemy in battle.
“As you know we have been given the order to stand. This is a Confed base and we are not handing it over to insurgents, religious fundamentalists or some Kerberon nutjob who thinks he is the second coming of Christ. This base has already been given a final ultimatum by representatives of this Church of Echidna who say they are operating as intermediaries on behalf of the Kerberos government. That’s bullshit, as you already know there is no government here anymore! They are just puppets for this religious cult that will not stop until every colony does the same. I’ve received word from the Fleet and they confirm that since the deadline passed every base in the System has been waiting. So far nothing has happened. Return to your units and re-check their readiness. Something is coming, I can smell it and when it does we need to be ready to act.”
A chorus of salutes and agreements echoed inside the small room and was followed by the removal of the men as they rushed to check on their troops. The first planet to secede had been Kerberos and it was generally considered to be the second planet in the System. Since the rise of the Church it had taken on greater importance to the level that it was now seen as the hub, the centrepiece of the new secessionist movement.
As the officers streaked out a grubby looking soldier rushed in carrying a map. His uniform was that of one of the scouting units with tiger stripes camouflage pattern and light equipment optimised for speed and discretion.
“What is it, Corporal?” asked the Colonel.
“Our patrol in Sector Five has come under attacks from colonial units from Yama City. Our unit made it back but we lost a squad out there, Sir.”
“What the hell! Why did you leave them?” he shouted as he stormed to the doorway leading to the open compound. The young soldier chased after him.
“We were ambushed by almost hundred people. Rocket fire destroyed our first APC, we were lucky any of us made it out alive!”
Colonel Towers stopped and looked down at him. His face was contorted in anger and worsened as he spotted the patches on the soldier’s arm indicating his last two tours of combat.
“Let me tell you, son. Just because you’ve been out in the dust getting your ass shot off by some local bushwhackers, it doesn’t give you the right to abandon your men out there.”
“But, Sir!”
“Don’t ‘but, Sir’ me, soldier! I know my duty and we never, ever leave our men behind. Now come with me, we have work to do!” he shouted as he continued onwards. As he stomped off a solider leaned over from the top of one of the watchtowers.
“Colonel, there’s a vehicle heading towards us!”
The watchtower was located in the corner of the barracks and was the tallest structure in the entire base. It was raised about five metres higher than the perimeter wall, but like the rest of the compound was only recently built and lacked the thicker walls and strong defences normally seen on military bases. The entire compound was initially only supposed to handle up to a thousand personnel. Now it was overpopulated, containers and vehicles were packed into the smallest of spaces as the units posted to smaller camps had flocked to this larger site. A sergeant, recognisable by his beret and shoulder stripes, marched out into the open parade ground near the walls and started barking orders. He was quick and efficient, in less than two minutes the walls were manned and the troops were ready. From one of the concrete bunkers rushed a four-man squad to the reinforced gateway and took up positions around it. They were not like the frontline combat units that had been fighting the insurgency the last months. They lacked the close fitting armour of the Marine Corps or even the heavier, more old-fashioned carapace suits still used by regular army units. These men and woman wore their standard combat fatigues with basic protective armour vests and plating over the key body parts. Two hundred years ago this kind of gear would have been considered common, now it was barely adequate for riot control. The Colonel stood fuming as the combat units waited for the inevitable fight. He had work he wanted to do and dealing with another non-issue was the last thing he needed. Two of his guards moved out of the command centre and took up positions behind him. Sergeant Wilkinson stopped in front and saluted.
“Sergeant, what is it?”
“Sir, a small group in an armoured vehicle. They’re flying a white flag and approaching our gate.”
“Why are you wasting my time with this nonsense, Sergeant? Captain Erdeniz is in charge now. Find him! I have more important things to do than chasing locals waving flags!”
“Where the hell is Captain Erdeniz?” he demanded, only for the young man to appear before him from the weapon stores. It was obvious he had been collecting gear as on his shoulder he carried a standard issue L48 carbine. He was a naval officer who, along with hundreds of navy crew, had been sent to the surface for leave while the warships were repaired and patched up. Though the fighting had ceased for some time the troubles were far over. Following the epic space battle at Prime there were hundreds of dead and wounded personnel. Far more than could be managed in the space docks and stations operated by the Navy. The sporadic bases and barracks on the colonies were still officially Confederate territory and like foreign embassies they were considered sovereign soil.
“I’ve just received word that a unit has been hit out on the lower checkpoint. Watch the walls and don’t let anybody in, I will deal with the checkpoint incident and bring back our boys. I am leaving you in charge, don’t let me down.” He tapped the officer on the shoulder and then marched off.
Captain Erdeniz was stunned and forgot to even reply. As a naval officer he was used to commanding groups of gunners, or assisting in engineering and technical operations. Commanding the potential defence of a major fortified base on hostile territory was something he had never trained for. This Colonel must have something of a death wish. Rumour on the base was that he had missed out on the fighting and had something to prove. From the shouting display he heard it seemed the man had a real chip on his shoulder.
“Asshole, it’s people like you that get people like me killed!” he muttered as he chased after the officer.
“Colonel!” Erdeniz shouted, but the Colonel was already too far away to hear him as he approached the landing pad where three Cobra Transports sat with their engines running.
From the outside the Cobra MK II looked like an angry bug. The wings lifted up high with four powerful engines fitted on rotating mounts to provide vertical take off and landing capability. It had no obvious weapon systems fitted and could easily have been a civilian craft if it wasn’t for the camouflage pattern and military markings. The craft was only capable of atmospheric flight and had a range of just a few hundred kilometres. It was small, barely big enough to carry eight men, but its speed and agility made it perfect for rapid insertion and extraction of troops. The front of the craft was bulbous and appeared to contain more glass than metal. The looks were deceptive though and this craft more than any other was the favourite vehicle used by Army Special Forces for the last twenty-three years. The engines were already powered up when the Colonel arrived and the sound was high pitched, almost screeching. The Colonel jumped inside to be given an intercom headset so that he could speak and hear over the noise of the engines.
“Sir, we’re heading to the checkpoint now. Last contact was three minutes ago. According to the radio operator multiple vehicles hit them and rocket fire has destroyed their transport. The unit retreated to a depot building where they are trying to hold back the attackers. The last message was on an open channel and said they were being overrun and needed immediate assistance,” explained the co-pilot.
“Come on then, they haven’t got time and neither have we!” barked the Colonel as he strapped himself in, the pilot turned to speak to him.
“Uh, Sir, it isn’t necessary for you to come with us.”
“Did I ask your opinion, L
ieutenant? I will not let any of my boys be taken by those snake obsessed bastards, now move it!”
”Sir!” The pilot hit full power. “What about support, Sir? Transmitting on an open frequency is against regulations and could indicate their position has already been overrun.”
“Bullshit. Are you trying to scrub the mission? Either you get me there or get out!”
The co-pilot looked over to the pilot who gave him a whimsical look before turning back to continue on the flight.
As the craft blasted away Captain Erdeniz was left covering his face from the dust. He looked about, trying to assess the situation and quickly walked over to the Sergeant who seemed to know what he was doing. Fort Hood was certainly no vacation spot but it did provide a relatively quiet place for over six hundred injured men and woman to rest and nurse their wounds. The fort was positioned on the outskirts of Yama City on the planet Kerberos and over twenty kilometres from any other settlements, yet the young Captain felt thousands of kilometres from the calamity that had been taking place in recent months.
“Good work, Sergeant, I’ll take a look,”
“Be my guest, Sir.”
Captain Erdeniz moved up the rough steel ladder near the main entrance much more quickly than the local enlisted men would ever have expected, taking a high position so that he could examine their immediate surroundings. As he stood at the high point he felt like a commander on an ancient Earth battlefield waiting for an unruly horde to come rampaging towards them. In his hands he held a pair of image-stabilised binoculars. They were low tech but in this area the highly magnified image was just what he needed. Through their lenses he watched the approaching vehicle at close magnification. The vehicle was six-wheeled and looked like one of the transports used by the Marine Guards unit on the planet.
“Sergeant, get ready, this could be trouble! I want the perimeter sealed and get air support on standby. This is probably just another scouting party but it could be something much bigger!”
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