Exiles (The Progenitor Trilogy, Book One)

by Dan Worth

  Chen noted coldly the destruction of the Man Flayer as her ships turned their guns on the adjacent vessel at her command, leaving their previous target tumbling uncontrollably, its fore-section reduced to slag. But the War Temple was above Marantis and slowing now, coming about to face the planet. The bomber attack had been nothing more than a smoke screen. Their guns couldn’t hit the Disemboweller at this range. There was nothing that they could do.

  ‘I’m detecting a power-spike in the War Temple’s reactor,’ reported Singh. ‘Oh God, she’s firing on the city!’

  The crew of the Mark Antony watched helplessly as a beam of incandescent fury leapt from the maw of the Disemboweller’s main gun, aimed straight at the city below.

  A blinding pillar of fire a hundred metres across split the sky above Marantis with a deafening crack. It smashed into the densely populated southern region of the city, within which Simonov had dispersed the bulk of his armoured units, blowing a crater out of the ground five hundred metres across and turned the sandy soil to glass. The force created by the beam of superheated particles resulted in a super-sonic shockwave that radiated outwards from the point of impact across the city, toppling buildings, scattering people and animals and incinerating them within an expanding cloud of blazing debris.

  Fires started in the dry, closely packed city. Marantis began to burn.

  Rekkid and Katherine, still imprisoned in the cellar, witnessed the attack on the screen of the Steven’s datapad. A brilliant blue-white line divided the southern facing camera view for a split second at distance of nearly three kilometres. They felt the impact before they heard it as the entire temple lurched violently, dislodging carvings and ornaments and smashing the exquisite stained glass windows on the southern side of the building. They heard the cacophony of falling masonry, glass and metal above the roar of the blast wave and the now arriving sharp report of the initial shot.

  Katherine screwed herself into a ball in terror as dust fell in clouds from the ceiling, and the growing air pressure threatening to burst her eardrums. Rekkid too writhed in his own agony. Worse was to come. The superheated plasma had literally burned a pillar of the atmosphere away, creating a vacuum which began to suck in the surrounding air.

  Atmospheric pressure began to drop rapidly, passing back down through acceptable levels until Katherine felt her insides begin to swell. Remembering the safety demonstrations that she had seen aboard spacecraft on how to react to decompression, she remained in the foetal position, screwed her eyes tight, stuffed her fingers in her ears and expelled all the air from her lungs whilst curling even tighter into a ball in a desperate attempt to protect herself. Her sinuses screamed in agony from the sudden, wild variations in air density, but luckily, her precautions were enough. They were far enough away from ground zero so that the pressure, or lack of it, never reached critical levels, merely unpleasant ones. Many amongst the population of Marantis weren’t so lucky, and there was more to come.

  The Disemboweller began to release volleys of kinetic missiles. Much smaller than those used by the Commonwealth missile cruisers, they were of a similar design and still incredibly deadly, relying on their sheer force of impact to wreak havoc. They began to fall from the sky onto the city, fired with unerring accuracy against Simonov’s cowering men.

  Deep in the cellar, the horrifying thought occurred to Katherine and Rekkid both that Steven was out in the city somewhere.

  Simonov, protected from the blast under his energy shields, watched as his men were steadily obliterated. There was little he could do but pray. Outside the protective bubble, a wall of debris had slammed across the open expanse around the temple. Burning fragments of buildings, trees, equipment and bodies along with tonnes of ejected rock and soil were hurled across the city in a howling tidal wave of destruction. Some of it rebounded off the seemingly invulnerable temple before showering back to earth. Still more was blasted high into the atmosphere: already a slender mushroom cloud was forming as the first of the kinetic missiles arrived.

  Simonov howled with frustration. There was nothing he could do to save his men. The K’Soth were firing with an accuracy that he had not anticipated. Obviously the intelligence the Commonwealth possessed about the quality of K’Soth sensors was hopelessly out of date. The enemy ship appeared to be able to detect his forces well enough, despite their efforts to conceal themselves.

  There was series of loud bangs as the first volley of missiles struck. The small projectiles created relatively small but focused impacts, and they were perfect for penetrating deep into the earth and rooting out soldiers from dug in positions. Their arrival was greeted with a salvo of further sharp reports as the as yet untouched AA batteries opened up on the incoming projectiles. Thin blue laser beams stabbed upwards through the growing cloud of dust and smoke in an attempt to vaporise them. It was hopeless. The slugs of metal were too many and moved too quickly for the batteries to have much effect. No rounds were falling near the centre of the city though. Obviously the K’Soth didn’t want to risk damaging their prize, Simonov mused. His position had so far remained untouched. He sent out a desperate order to his troops to retreat inwards towards the temple. Perhaps he could save some of them.

  The bombardment was unrelenting. Trapped in the darkened basement with about a dozen marines, Steven huddled against the wall and pondered his own chances of survival. He didn’t like the conclusions that he was drawing. He had succeeded in blending in with the troops when the order to take cover had been given and he had just found shelter in the second basement of an inn when the plasma cannon shot had struck the city. The blast had flattened the building above, no doubt killing the occupants, but although the rubble had trapped the soldiers in the cellars it had formed something of a protective shield against the worst of the blast. Their suits had protected them from the wild pressure variations.

  The ground shock had been a different matter, however. Spreading out from the point of impact a kilometre away like ripples in a pond, it had cracked and buckled the walls of the basement as it passed. Falling masonry had badly injured a couple of the cowering marines and the fractures in the sagging ceiling were slowly spreading with each nearby missile strike.

  Sheer terror filled the cramped subterranean space. The bombardment was continuous. Wave after wave of projectiles had slammed into the city, reducing much of it to rubble, though from the garbled transmissions they had received from Colonel Simonov it seemed that the centre of the city was being avoided. Trapped in the cellars, they had no way to reach it.

  The kinetic missiles were quite capable of penetrating this far beneath the earth. A direct hit would finish them off in a split second. Hopefully their depth would at least shield them from the prying sensors of the starships above.

  Nevertheless, with each nearby hit shaking the room and releasing clouds of dust from the ceiling, the marines in the cellar were beginning to crack. They weren’t used to this sort of scenario. Steven had heard of wars on Earth in the distant past where men had endured days of this sort of hell. He wondered how they had kept their sanity, or if they had at all. The seemingly random nature of the falling missiles was morale destroying. You couldn’t run or hide or try to dodge the bullet, all you could do was hope that it fell elsewhere and not on you. Who knew, if you did run, or even if you could, perhaps you would run to where the next one was about to fall? It was a nerve shredding dilemma.

  Another round fell nearby, causing the room’s occupants to flinch instinctively and added another layer of dust to coat their suits. Steven heard one man sob. He wondered how the rest of the huddled people in the city were faring. Those under the plasma strike would have all been obliterated, those nearby would have died also from the heat and the shockwave. Troops further away would probably have survived as they had done, no doubt it was these survivors that the K’Soth were now trying to eradicate. Steven tried not to think too much about what had happened to the residents of Marantis. Defenceless and unprepared they must surely have been slaugh
tered in their thousands, or even now be lying burnt or haemorrhaging in their streets and houses.

  He wondered about Katherine and Rekkid, mainly Katherine. He fervently hoped that they were alright. He tried to tell himself that if they were in the temple that they would be alright, for now at least. The last he had heard, Simonov’s command centre hadn’t been hit, but that had been quite some time ago. He had to reach them somehow, get them away from this place before the enemy either obliterated it entirely or began landing in person to capture it. He had few illusions as to what the K’Soth would do to them.

  Wait; there had been no explosions for a minute now. Had the bombardment stopped? That could only mean one thing.

  ‘Sensors show that the War Temple is launching landing craft Captain.’

  ‘Thank you Mr Singh,’ replied Chen as she checked her own display. Sure enough, a swarm of the seedpod shaped K’Soth dropships were emerging from hatches along the belly of the vessel.

  The tougher bodies of the K’Soth could withstand much higher g-tolerances than those of humans. Packed a dozen at a time into small streamlined craft consisting of little more than retros and a shield generator inside an aero-braking fuselage, the Empire’s shock troops were scattered over the landing zone. Their high velocity and large numbers ensured that a high proportion would reach the surface, even in the face of heavy ground fire. The surviving Marantis defenders would soon be overwhelmed.

  ‘Captain we have to do something,’ said Ramirez. ‘If those troops reach the surface they’ll slaughter everyone left alive down there.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that Commander, but we still haven’t broken through this line of destroyers.’ She gesticulated at the three remaining enemy ships keeping her fleet at bay.

  ‘Captain, we don’t have the luxury of time, I suggest we close the distance and finish them off. We should be able to chase down at least some of those dropships.’

  Chen thought about it, as she watched the heavy guns of her fleet pound one of the K’Soth ships into submission. ‘No Commander, I have a better idea. We still need to take down that War Temple as well. No doubt it will have plenty more willing K’Soth on board; we have to consider those as well.’

  ‘Your orders, Captain?’

  ‘I intend to split our forces. That should give them something to think about. Ensign Andrews, transmit these orders: This is Captain Chen to all ships. We need to prevent the K’Soth from gaining a foothold on the surface of Maranos. To this end I order the flak cruisers Stillwell, Spartacus, Drake and Powell to form up around the frigate Crazy Horse. Captain Akbar you are in command of this new group. You will split off from the main force and intercept the K’Soth landing. That War Temple is in a high orbit and with the speed of your vessels you should be able to catch some of those dropships. Hopefully your ships should be manoeuvrable enough to evade the War Temple, however we shall attempt to draw their fire and take them down. Chen out.’

  She checked her display, sure enough, the five smaller ships were peeling away to form a new vertical cross formation around the Crazy Horse. They began to loop around the screening destroyers, heading for low Maranos orbit. The rapid firing guns of the cruisers would wreak havoc among the K’Soth, assuming they could outwit that War Temple. It was her responsibility to ensure that.

  There were only two enemy destroyers left now. The third was now breaking apart in its final death throes. The odds were good enough for a close range engagement, though it would not be without risk. The K’Soth may be outnumbered and have inferior ships, but at close range their weapons could still inflict serious damage. However, if Chen’s plan was to succeed she had no option but to take the chance. She gave the order.

  ‘Helm, ahead full. Gunnery, we are preparing to charge the two remaining enemy ships, ready the keel laser and prepare for a close range attack. Engineering, I want more power to our shields if possible.’

  ‘Negative Captain, we are unable to draw any more power from the reactor.’ That was Sohal, he sounded deeply worried.

  ‘Explanation Mr Sohal.’

  ‘We’ve been running the reactors at twenty-five percent above recommended levels since the start of the battle Captain. Any higher and we risk inflicting serious damage to the Mark Antony’s systems. I’ve already had to override the emergency shut-down sequence else we’d have been dead in space long since.’

  ‘Thank you Chief, do what you can. Chen out.’ He was right, after all. The destroyer had been firing almost constantly for almost an hour and half and manoeuvring hard all that time. She hadn’t noticed just how warm the air on the ship had become. She just needed the Mark Antony to keep functioning a little longer.

  They were closing in on the two remaining destroyers, the Purification and the Blessed Murder. They were twenty kilometres from them now, well within the range of the K’Soth guns. Sure enough, the destroyers opened up on the charging Commonwealth ships who responded with a murderous barrage.

  Chen felt the Mark Antony judder beneath her as its shields took the impact of the enemy weapons. They were ignoring the other ships. Now that they had their chance the K’Soth were trying to take down the human captain that had caused them so much grief. Loops of energy cascaded over the bow section. The forward shields were already down to seventy-five percent. Sohal hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said the reactors were over-strained.

  Fifteen kilometres, the Blessed Murder was in trouble. Fire from the Thermopylae and Wellesley had overloaded its forward shield sections and obliterated the destroyer’s bridge. It began to drift, though its turrets still spat defiantly at the approaching ships. The Mark Antony’s shields were still falling under the onslaught, now at fifty percent.

  Ten kilometres, and the Blessed Murder was breaking up. Huge sections of the craft were twisting away from the central hull under the force inflicted by the Commonwealth guns. Chen’s fleet now focused its entire wrath upon the Purification. She ordered gunnery to bring the cutting laser to bear as the Mark Antony’s shields fell below twenty-five percent.

  Suddenly, the air on the bridge was pierced by an alarm. To her horror, Chen realised that the forward shield section had suddenly collapsed entirely. The fire from the Purification was now impacting directly onto the ship’s hull.

  ‘Engineering, report!’ she screamed into the comm.

  ‘Forward shield systems have suffered a catastrophic energy crash Captain; my crews are on it now. We need to replace key relays or re-route power.’

  ‘Do it now Chief!’

  The Purification’s particle beams swept across the exposed upper forward gun deck of the Mark Antony, buckling the destroyer’s armour and melting the turrets housed there. The intense heat travelled down through the ship until it reached the storage capacitors for the forward turret, with disastrous results.

  As the capacitors detonated the entire turret was blown out of the destroyed cupola taking several of the surrounding deck plates with it. It drifted upward from the ship. The Mark Antony was still accelerating: now it was catching up with its own turret. The heavy, melted weapon spun toward the destroyer’s mid section. There was barely time for Ensign Goldstein to roll the ship to one side to avoid it. The wreckage missed the bridge but nevertheless slammed into the flanks of the Mark Antony, gouging a long furrow into the hull and exposing the decks beneath to hard vacuum. Fresh alarms began to sound.

  ‘Warning,’ intoned the calm voice emanating from the ships emergency systems. ‘Warning: hull breach detected. Warning: hull breach detected. ’

  ‘Someone shut that thing off!’ yelled Chen.

  ‘Decks ten, eleven and twelve have been exposed to space between frames one to fifteen,’ Ramirez reported.

  ‘Commander, get repair crews organised on the double. All vessels destroy that fucking ship, do it now!’

  They were right alongside the Purification now, its beam wreaking further damage along the Mark Antony’s bow section. Davis’s men and the gunnery crews of the other ships opened u
p with everything they had left. The K’Soth destroyer stood little chance. It broke apart in seconds, pierced by the heavy cutting lasers of the destroyers, leaving the Commonwealth ships to race on toward the War Temple.

  Chen had time to take stock of the situation. Her engineering crews had just gotten the forward shields back on line by re-routing power via backup systems, but they were only up to five per-cent. They would need time to recharge. The Mark Antony would have to fall back and let the Wellesley and Thermopylae lead the assault. In addition, they’d lost one forward battery, lost power to two more and some of the bow thrusters, as well losing structural strength in the fore section of the ship. Decks ten through twelve of the central superstructure had been exposed to space. Casualty figures were still coming in. At least thirty-five crew had been killed in all and dozens more injured. But Chen would mourn them later. She had a battle to win.

  Chapter 28

  Simonov, intent on his tactical display, saw the K’Soth dropships falling like rain onto the plain, south of the city. Hundreds of the tiny pods plummeted to earth in a ripple of sonic booms, braking violently with their retros at the last minute to thump to earth with a bone jarring impact that nevertheless was survivable by K’Soth standards.

  He ordered his AA battery to shoot down the incoming pods, and his artillery to bombard the landing zone. They duly did so, incinerating dozens of the falling seed shapes, or pounding them with high explosives as they landed. So intent was he on this desperate effort that Simonov entirely failed to notice that the Disemboweller had fired again, lobbing two rounds at his position. Too late, he saw the bright red blips of the falling missiles. But he had little cause for concern. Surely he and the batteries were safe beneath their energy field?