Were we ever at peace with them?
“I see, and I am in command of this unit until this so-called war is over?”
Major Terson nodded once more.
“Yes, Sir.”
Teresa sighed to herself but let none of her frustrations show. Although she wanted to be back with her unit, it was clear that rejoining marine units engaged in hostile action in Helios was now impossible. The journey to the fleet would take her multiple trips to the relevant Rifts, including travelling to Proxima, Prometheus, T’Karan and then the final Rift to Helios.
“Then you had better introduce me to your officers.”
Major Terson twisted to her side and pointed to the small group of male officers. All three were older than her, with one showing pronounced gray hair and another was completely bald. She stopped at the gray haired man first.
“This is Captain Nathaniel Rivers. He has command of 1st Company.”
Teresa looked at him carefully, trying to gauge the man’s character with just a few careful observations. The name Rivers was rather uncommon, but it could easily have been a coincidence.
“Captain, are you related to the General?”
The man looked at her with a stone cold face, showing even less emotion than she would have expected from Spartan. He said nothing for a moment, and then something must have jarred as he spoke with a start.
“Sir, Yes, Sir. My father is the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.”
Teresa lifted her lip slightly at the mention of the man’s position. She was still surprised he had taken the post, being such an old and uncompromising warhorse.
“The Corps is my family, Sir.”
Teresa looked at him for a moment longer before speaking.
“Yes. I wonder how his leg is doing?”
It was a rhetorical question, but she enjoyed the look of surprise on his face at the mention of something so personal. Few knew of his leg trouble, certainly only those close to him.
“You know him?” he asked almost in a whisper.
“Know him? Captain, your father and I spilled blood together on a hundred battlefields. Both our blood and the enemies.”
The man had nothing further to say, so she moved on to the next one. Teresa knew exactly what he meant, and she wasn’t impressed. She had seen it often enough with the children of well-to-do families. Their children either resented the power of their parents and rebelled early, or took advantage of their privileged position to coast through their chosen career. This Rivers looked like he was every inch the career soldier. She spotted the campaigns markings on his tunic; all showed he had spent some time in the Corps, yet none were what she would consider frontline work.
“Captain Thomas Thompson,” said the Major.
Teresa walked on to the next of the group. This man was the tallest of the group, thin, bald, and with a narrow black mustache. His expression was a little softer than Captain Rivers, and she recognized a calm confidence in his face, something that reminded her of General Daniels. His uniform was no more decorated than his comrade, but she did spot the markings of the Jaeger, a relatively new mark of distinction for marines that had taken part in the great Jötnar hunts on Hyperion against the hordes of marauding Biomech creatures.
“You’re a hunter?” she asked.
The marine looked surprised she recognized the small marking.
“Yes, Sir. My platoon took part in the annual hunt. It was…interesting, Colonel.”
Teresa thought back to her time on Hyperion. Though she’d visited after the fighting with the Biomechs and their legions, she had never really warmed to the place.
“How did you find the climate?”
The man’s torso relaxed a little as he answered.
“Warm, and the air is something else. You’ve visited Hyperion, Sir?”
Teresa nodded slowly.
“Quite. I fought with Gun and General Rivers back at the end of the Uprising.”
The Captain raised an eyebrow at this.
“Colonel, you fought in the Battle of Hyperion? The last battle of the War…where the Biomechs tried to come through the Rift?”
Teresa nodded.
“Yes, I was there, along with my husband, Spartan.”
The mention of the famed warrior sent a chill through the small group.
“Hyperion was the last stand-up fight we fought in. Trust me, you don’t want a repeat of that event.”
She then moved to the third and final of the group. The short and squat man looked unlike most of the marine officers she’d met. Even so, in Teresa’s experience, she could be surprised by even the most unassuming of marines.
“Captain John Tycho, a Lieutenant recently returned to service after the casualties taken during our original foray into Helios territory.”
Teresa took the man’s salute and looked him over, starting with his head and moving down. She could see the scars that had been carefully sewn on his neck and face. It was his limbs that seemed the strangest though.
“Your injuries, you sustained them in a boarding action?”
“Yes, Sir, my platoon attempted to sabotage a Biomech cruiser. They rigged the entrances with improvised explosives and killed half my people.”
“That’s when you lost your legs?”
He shook his head.
“No, Sir, one of the Biomech creatures took them from me as we took the control room.”
He pulled up his left sleeve to show a fully mechanical arm. It was well built and fitted inside a sleek ceramic-looking housing to emulate the shape of the arm. The fist was more mechanical looking and fully articulated. He moved the fingers in sequence and looked back at her.
“They patched me up, and I’m back on active duty.”
“You’re combat effective?” she asked in a concerned tone.
Captain John Tycho turned his hand and extended it in front of him.
“Colonel. I had to pass the physical training tests the same as I did nine years ago. I came third out of thirty.”
“Impressive, well, good to have you here, Captain. We need marines with skills and experience if this struggle is going the way I think it will.”
Her mind drifted back to Spartan and the cuts and markings she had seen on his body. The report from Earth had been minimal in scope, yet she feared for what he had been through. They’d suffered enough with the loss of APS Corp, something she suspected Spartan would know nothing about. They’d both worked hard to build it from nothing, only to have it taken away by the cancellation of contracts. Teresa shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts and looked to the Major.
“Major, what do we have then? I’d like to see our unit.”
“If you come with us, we’ll show you our facilities.”
“Thank you.”
The small group walked away from the hangar, making for the hexagonal doors that led into the vast internal structure of the ship. Teresa had been aboard a number of similar ships, but she could already see how the hangar and mission part of the ship were so small compared to the similar sections on the other Battlecruisers. They passed through the first of several bulkhead doors, passing small pairs of Marine guards.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, this particular ship is using one of the trial combat units for use as a heavy Battlecruiser. Because of this, we’re lacking in space for marine units.”
“Yes, I know,” replied Teresa, “Even the Crusader class have space for half a battalion on board. From the specs, it looks like we’ll be hard pressed to do that?”
Major Terson nodded.
“That’s true, Sir. I’ve had our people use every bit of space they can find. Even so, we have all the 39th here under one roof. Just over three hundred marines plus officers and specialists.”
“So few? Can we expect any more?”
The Major shook her head.
“No, Sir. The 39th are just under of the expected number. I’ve arranged for platoons to merge to create something useable. We have some experienced marines
and half came from either the new cadet intake on Terra Nova or from the reserve units. We have enough marines to make up three complete heavy companies plus a single Jötnar platoon on transfer from Hyperion.”
“Hyperion? Who is their commander?”
Major Terson looked lost as she tried to find the relevant page on her secpad.
“I…uh…they have not yet transferred through. Their ship is meeting up at Prometheus, along with the remainder of our ships. We have to stop there to collect our equipment.”
“Wait,” said Teresa, “we’re stopping at Prometheus?”
They had now reached a large open passageway with four hatches leading to barrack rooms and a mess area. A small group of marines in training clothes spotted them and moved away, speaking quietly.
“Yes, Sir, the foundries on Prometheus have our stores and armor. All we have at the moment are personnel, provisions, and uniforms. We don’t even have a training ground. Have you ever been there?”
Teresa tried not to bark out a laugh at the question. She’d spent some uncomfortable weeks on that burning hot world. It had been where she and Anderson had spearheaded a rescue operation for General Rivers and Spartan. It was also where they’d met Gun and his comrades for the first time.
“Yes, I’ve been there, and I’m not excited at the prospect of going back.”
Major Terson suspected there was more to this and made a mental note to check on it later. She pointed toward a door.
“We have converted one of the larger munitions bays into a temporary fitness area and sparring room. It isn’t big, only enough for a dozen marines at a time.”
Teresa walked in while the Major continued to speak. Inside was a small group of marines, each of them stripped down to just their training clothes and working on a series of weights. Off to one side was a trio of marines taking it in turns to spar with a muscled black fighter. All wore straps on their hands and padded helmets to protect their jaws and forehead.
Nothing changes, Teresa thought.
* * *
How the three of them reached the control station was beyond Spartan. They’d covered nearly two hundred meters through the station and moved past a dozen wounded people trying to make their way out from the transport dock part of the station. This was as far as they could get without exposing themselves to the glare of the invaders. All three kept down low along the side of the small passageway and looked to the end point that ran into a tall crossroads.
“The control station is in the room to the right of the crossroads. It’s positioned on the outer wall of the station.”
Spartan looked to Khan who waited patiently with the smashed piece of metal still in his arms.
“What about the machines?” he asked his friend.
Khan shrugged.
“Without armor and weapons it isn’t gonna be easy.”
As they waited, the sound of clanking metal feet became louder. Spartan stopped talking, and all three waited and watched. The body of one of the metallic beasts appeared at the crossroads and stopped for a moment. Spartan paused and readied himself, even though there was almost nothing he would be able to do against such a thing. He lifted his hand to warn them to make no noise. The machine finally moved on, and the sounds of its feet faded into the distance. Spartan looked to the other two.
“Ready?”
Khan nodded, and they rushed to the crossroads. None of them paused upon reaching the middle section, and they moved through to the door of the control station. The engineer tapped the control pad, and they were inside. Khan pulled the door shut behind them, and they breathed a sigh of relief. Spartan nodded in appreciation to the man who had moved to a row of computer screens. The control room was smaller than Spartan had expected. It was rectangular in shape with a low ceiling and plain walls. The computers were arrayed in a unit in the center of the room and seating for six staff around the screens. One wall was different to the rest. He could follow the shape of pistons and bars in the corners.
“Does this open?”
The man looked up from the display and nodded.
“Yeah, that’s the monitoring window. Want to see?”
Without waiting for a reply, he tapped something on the console. With a soft whirl, the panel slid in four directions, revealing a wide pane of quadruple reinforced glass. There were protective bars running through the structure, but it still provided a perfect view of the docking arm and the T’Kari ship.
“Look,” said Khan in a hushed tone.
Both he and Spartan watched as the arachnid-looking machines moved along the hull of the ship from their hiding places in units fitted beneath the vessel. A large group of them had stayed behind and were moving around on the outer hull of the ship.
“Damn, so they must have fitted that to the ship before we left. Some kind of protective measure?”
Khan shrugged, but the engineer interrupted both of them.
“Maybe they knew you would try and get away and made sure these machines came with you.”
Spartan looked at him and back to the machines.
“But why? What can they do?”
As if in direct answer to his question, the station shook again, and the lights flickered.
“They are Biomech war machines. They do only one thing, destroy,” said Khan.
“If that were true, why leave so many on the ship? Look at them.”
Both of them watched for what seemed an eternity before it became clear to Spartan.
“Wait, they’re building something, right on the outside of the hull. Look, near the cargo hatch.”
Khan followed his gaze and then spotted the thick metal coils.
“Cables, big ones, and they’re taking them right to the station. Why?”
They looked to the engineer who noticed they’d both fallen silent.
“What?”
Spartan pointed out through the window and at the machines working away on the ruined T’Kari ship. Five of them moved along its length and continued to move and alter the thick array of cables running along the ship and to the docking arm.
“That.”
The engineer stared at it for far less than the other two before shaking his head and returning to his screen.
“Well?” continued Khan.
The man moved through screen after screen until reaching a page that showed the internal layout of the docking area of the station. He stopped and looked at it for a moment and then pointed at a series of discs.
“This station is a standard design. We have them around all the moons and planets here. I think the basic design is even used on some of the Alliance worlds in Alpha Centauri, well, some of the older colonies maybe.”
Khan bent down and looked at the screen.
“Cut to it, what are they doing?”
The man wiped his brow.
“The docking arm has a direct feed to the fusion reactor plant on this station. The connection is used to provide external power to waiting ships, or to recharge systems.”
“So they need to recharge their machines?” asked Khan.
The engineer looked up at the scarred warrior and lifted the side of his lip slightly.
“No...they have already bypassed the filters and have connected whatever they are building directly to the station itself.”
He moved the screen to one side and brought up another that showed the T’Kari ship.
“There’s something else as well. The ship is showing a power build-up cycle like nothing I’ve ever seen on a ship before.”
Spartan and Khan looked at each other.
“They are going to blow the ship and the station,” said Khan.
Spartan sighed. He had another completely different idea.
“No, that’s not their plan. I’ve seen this signature before, out on the new colonies at Epsilon Eridani. Back when the first engineer ships had finished their work.”
The engineer nodded, immediately understanding what Spartan was referring to. He moved several overlays to the s
hip and placed them together.
“Yeah, it’s a match,” he said, and then stood up and moved to the glass to watch the busy machines.
“Uh...is somebody going to tell me what’s going on?” Khan asked irritably.
Spartan’s shoulder lowered a little in resignation though not in surprise.
“These machines have the components on or in that ship to operate a Spacebridge, and they’re using the station as a massive power source.”
“No,” Khan said slowly, “these machines are building a Rift, right above Earth?”
The other two answered in perfect unison.
“Yes.”
Spartan looked at the thick power cables and couplings joining the ship and the station together. He’d wondered all along if their escape had perhaps been a little too easy but hadn’t wanted to believe it. They were at least a day away from any military ships coming to help them, and that was probably enough for the machines to do what they wanted.
“Either they planned this, or it is a default programming mode for them. They arrive, seize a major power source, and then assemble a Rift generator to bring in reinforcements.”
“I don’t understand. I thought the Biomechs were hundreds or thousands of light years away?” asked the engineer.
“Yeah,” replied Khan unhelpfully.
“It’s more complicated than that,” started Spartan, “They can only create bridges of up to about four light years but some places can go further.”
The engineer’s face lit up, remembering something he’d seen.
“The Nexus? Like at Prometheus and in the Orion Nebula?”
“Exactly,” said Spartan, “The Biomechs had a Rift station and a fleet the other side of the Spacebridge we came through. These machines must be trying to create a Rift, using the equipment on this side to manage it.”
The engineer looked as though he didn’t understand.
“Why not just build the generator on the other side and send ships here?”
Spartan smiled.
“Their station is gone. It exploded as we came through.”
Spartan looked at the screen and then to the man.
“What’s your name?”
Star Crusades Nexus: Book 05 - Prophecy of Fire Page 15