Star Crusades Mercenaries: Book 01 - Lords of War

by Michael G. Thomas

  “They are ships built from the ruins of others. According to the computer, they have to be towed into position. I am detecting more already in orbit, at least nine.”

  “What is their purpose?”

  Five-Seven checked more data before looking to the Colonel.

  “Orbital bases to carry out raids and piracy operations.”

  The Colonel’s mouth twitched. He’d come across craft designed for similar purposes out on the Rim, as well as on some of the less well-known moons back in the Alliance. They were often found near mining colonies or trading posts where they could operate multiple ships for weeks, sometimes months.

  “They’re mother ships, carrion brought in to feed on the dead. Target them. Let them burn!”

  The forward guns fired just once before a barrage from the pursuing ships struck the underside one last time, but the groaning howl coming from her stern announced the damage was more than just the loss of armour plates. Five-Seven sent commands to his crew, and the massive prototype ship twisted about like a seal pursued by half a dozen killer whales. He glanced to the Colonel.

  “Power systems are failing. We’ve lost power to the forward weapon systems and defence turrets. Either we leave now, or we will be destroyed.”

  Colonel Black didn’t hesitate as he contacted the dropship.

  “Kanjana. Drop now. You have ten seconds.”

  As soon as he received the acknowledgement, he turned his attention to the mainscreen.

  “Turn us around and prepare to activate the engines.”

  “Yes, Colonel. Destination?”

  Colonel Black considered their options for a moment. He knew they were damaged, and staying too close to Karnak could get them captured or killed. He was tempted to travel directly to Taxxu, but the odds of the engines lasting that long were slim.

  Stay close, but safe.

  “The Byotai Spacebridge. Get us to the border.”

  The ship spun around on her axis but continued along her present course. With the damaged stern now away from most of the gunfire, the fighters were forced to change position. It didn’t take long, and they were firing again just as the Jackal dropship slipped out from her position low in the hull.

  “Now!”

  The ships vanished around them as the ship rushed away at impossible speeds. Three seconds after they left the area, a massive barrage of missiles and autocannon rounds rushed through the area of space they’d vacated. Now all that remained was the fiery trail from behind the dropship as the tiny craft plummeted down to the surface.

  “What’s our status?”

  Five-Seven looked confused as he checked the displays. He began to speak but checked again.

  “We have a problem. The nacelles are fluctuating. We are going...”

  The howl rippled through the ship, and it was followed by a sound like a thunderclap. Colonel Black almost blacked out, but when he shook his head and looked to the mainscreen, all he could see were the distant pinpricks of starlight.

  “What happened?”

  Five-Seven shook his head.

  “The Alcubierre drive system has overloaded. I have sent engineers to investigate.”

  Colonel Black looked back at the mainscreen. The star field was rotating about them. It was an immediate reminder that the ship was spinning, but also that he had no idea where they were.

  “Talk to me...where the hell are we?”

  All eyes turned to the screens as the crew located astronomical phenomena and then triangulated the current position. It took just a few seconds until the starmap on the right-hand part of the mainscreen changed. Five-Seven looked over to him, and Colonel Black already knew they were in trouble.

  “We are two hundred thousand kilometres from Karnak. The enemy can see us.”

  Colonel Black shook his head and looked to the mainscreen. There was no sign of the planet, presumably because the cameras were still pointing forwards and in the direction they had been heading.

  “Uh...Five-Seven...What are those?”

  The Thegn enhanced the view until ten ships could be seem, each subtly different, but all looked like bugs with large wings and long vanes. Five-Seven had to check the computer, but Colonel Black knew who they were. He began to smile.

  “My friends, those are Byotai warships.”

  Five-Seven remained expressionless.

  “The lead ship is hailing us. It is General Makos.”

  The Thegn looked to Colonel Black.

  “He wishes to know if we require assistance.”

  Colonel Black couldn’t believe his luck.

  Ten ships won’t save Karnak, but it should be enough to get our people out of there.

  * * *

  Jackal Dropship ‘Haywire’

  The dropship’s ejection from the hangar was much more violent than the original insertion. As they rolled out, the port side began to overheat almost immediately. Gunfire from a pair of the pursuing fighters narrowly missed the other side before Kanjana was able to right the ship.

  “Hold on!” Kanjana yelled.

  They were already inside the atmosphere and leaving a great burning trail behind them. Three kilometres behind were the two Anicinàbe fighters, who for the time being had deactivated their gun ports and retracted their weapons to keep them from the heat. Inside the cockpit, Kanjana wrestled with the controls as their excessive speed began to cause external damage.

  We need to slow down!

  Kanjana pulled the secondary control unit to one side and tapped a series of buttons. One by one an entire array of expendable braking vanes pushed out. Large control flaps pushed up just a few degrees, and then ever so slowly, they opened wider and wider.

  “What’s going on?”

  The voice of Khan was loud enough that she could hear him over the sound of the buffeting of their descent. Two more control vanes ripped off, but finally they were at a more reasonable speed and heading towards the surface on a long, arcing course.

  “We’re heading for the drop zone. Make sure you’re ready.”

  No sooner had she said the words, the guns of their pursuers opened fire. Three of the solid slugs penetrated the skin of the left engine and sent chunks of metal flying out behind them. The dropship immediately lurched to the right and started to roll.

  “Hold on!”

  With incredible skill and precision, Kanjana rolled the craft around until back on course, and then made a subtle correction. Shots punched past the dropship on both sides, but only a handful managed to tear holes in the rear. Warning lights flashed, telling of yet another component that had failed.

  “Let’s see how you like this.”

  Three buttons was all it took to open two hatches and begin an emergency fuel dump. One of the six onboard self-sealing tanks emptied itself into the sky. As the last drop was released, she hit the countermeasures release. Six micro-flares blasted off in a star pattern behind her, and a cloud of flame engulfed the sky. One fighter banked away, but the second must have been covered in the fluid because it caught alight immediately and spun down out of control.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  How many stories have been written in the past concerning the rise of a robot army? So many, that it even getting basic armed drones into combat would prove almost impossible in the Alliance. Not even the promise of stringent protective measures would allow full autonomous robots onto the battlefield. Instead, a bizarre hybrid system would have to be developed to allow central control of these machines, or for them to operate in a swarm configuration around a host. Could machines of the future somehow acquire intelligence and self-awareness? Alliance scientists say no, but the general public will not support it, not at any cost. For now, there must always be a man in the loop.

  The Robot Army

  Maglev Rail Network, Khagi District, Karnak

  Ogimà Nakoma could see the smoke column off into the distance. Even as she watched, she could see the dozens of Hornets moving in on the destroyed train system. She started to smile, an
d then spotted columns of smoke to the right. The expression on her face changed in an instant, as the ground vehicles of the Red Scars moved to join her. A dozen aircraft hovered over the ground vehicles to provide air cover. They could just have easily detached so that they could attack the train, but instead were staying as one cohesive unit.

  “How far away are they?”

  The pilot of the small aircraft looked back over his shoulder.

  “They will be at the train in twenty minutes, perhaps eighteen.”

  Takosk, I will end this before you can begin your meddling.

  She connected to the commanders of all of her aerial units.

  “This is Ogimà Nakoma. The mercenaries must be stopped, and quickly. I am offering a reward of a year’s salary and a promotion to those that bring me the head of any of the enemy combatants. They must be dealt with personally; they cannot be allowed to escape.”

  She wiped the saliva dripping from her lower lip. The one thing worrying her more than anything was that they would bombard the train, and then days later find the mercenaries had escaped. If she failed, her punishment at the hands of Tahkeome would be too terrifying to comprehend, and even worse, her own clan would suffer, perhaps even being cast out or broken up.

  No, not this time. I owe it to the Spires to succeed. We will live, or die as one.

  She looked at the pilot and the controls, and could see the screen showing the position of all of her kin. The spherical mapping unit gave data on their positions as well as their heights. Most important, they were all heading in one direction, right at the smashed train.

  “Failure is not an option. We outnumber then fifty-to-one. I will execute any soldier that abandons the field.”

  She let that sink in for a moment. It was an old style of punishment, and one she had little doubt she’d need to use. In any case, she had to make sure her soldiers were suitably motivated to the battle. A message arrived from one of the scouts on board the nearest Hornet.

  “Ogimà, one of the mercenaries is moving from the train wreckage.”

  Ogimà Nakoma’s expression was already dour, but the idea that one of the enemy might escape was enough to push her over the edge.

  “Then remind them that they cannot do this! No explosives, guns only! I want to see the bodies.”

  The bright glow from the aircraft engines increased in intensity as the advanced war machines zoomed into position. At the same time, the passengers aboard moved to the sides of the craft and took aim with their accurate long-rifles. Sprung mounts hung down for them to rest the weapons for better accuracy. Then the pilot looked back again.

  “What is it?”

  The pilot looked positively nervous.

  “Our forward supply base at Armant reports multiple aircraft on approach. Then the signal vanished.”

  Ogimà Nakoma turned her head a little.

  “Armant? That is a small mountain watch post. We passed it on the way from Montu, six guards and a single landing platform. Why would...”

  Then she remembered, and her expression turned from surprise to anger. The Byotai lacked the aircraft for any kind of attack, and certainly the capacity to mount a rescue operation in the mountains.

  We have a few prisoners there. We have been betrayed.

  “Should we turn back to help them?”

  Ogimà Nakoma’s brow tightened in frustration.

  “No, nothing will stop us completing our mission.”

  At the same time, all she could think of was the face of her rival, the warlord of the Red Scars, Takosk. The man she was now convinced was behind all of her misfortune.

  We will succeed here, and then I will deal with Takosk, personally.

  * * *

  Spartan woke up, not to the sound of voices, not even the sound of engines. This time it was the clatter of heavy weapons as a pair of Hornets circled overhead. At first he could barely see them through the smoke, but then found his visor was open. A single mental decision commanded the armour to close it up. The overlay immediately combined vision modes so he could easily look through the smoke. He lowered his stance, his M-3B armour barely making a sound.

  I see you.

  The craft passed again, and a fusillade of small arms fire erupted from their flanks. Spartan lifted his carbine up, took aim, and then stopped. He could see it was his last clip, and he was down to a third charge.

  “Damn it!”

  “Problem?”

  Spartan turned around and found he was staring into the bloodied face of Gun. He carried a pair of long-rifles, no doubt taken from the fallen enemy soldiers. One had been damaged to allow him to use it, the other he tossed to Spartan. With just his left hand, Spartan caught the weapon and lifted it to his face.

  “Thanks. I’m saving my last power cell for something special.”

  In a quick movement, he swung the prototype carbine to his flank and raised the long-rifle to check the sight and ammunition capacity. General Daniels pointed to the sky.

  “Kanjana has been in touch. She will be here soon for the extraction.”

  Spartan raised an eyebrow.

  “Extraction, here?”

  Gun howled and pointed to the aircraft.

  “Here they come!”

  General Daniels turned away from Spartan and clambered over the wrecked carriage to get a better look. It gave him a high vantage point, as well as reasonable cover. Like Spartan, he carried a looted rifle, and he positioned it on top of the carriage. He took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. Shortly afterwards a single body fell from one of the aircraft.

  “Nice shooting, General.”

  The two aircraft kept out of range, hovering so those on board could aim with more accuracy. Daniels continued firing at them with carefully considered shots. Further along the train, Syala ran back and leapt behind broken metal. Even as she landed, the gunfire from one of the aircraft crashed around her.

  “Get them?” Spartan asked.

  Syala lifted her arms triumphantly and dropped two more rifles and six packs of weapon stores on the ground. As she slid into cover, the gunfire from the Hornet aircraft continued. Incredibly, not one managed to strike her, though they made a mess of what little remained of the train.

  “Will this help?”

  Spartan deactivated his visor for just a moment and gave her a wide grin.

  “Good work. Damned good work.”

  “Spartan!” General Daniels yelled.

  All four of them looked out from the shattered train and off into the distance. Dozens of trails marked the positions of multiple aircraft, and they were moving fast and low.

  “Ours?” Daniels asked.

  Spartan had already altered the focal length on his suit’s lenses and was watching the approaching vehicles. He could see the markings on the side, but it was the passengers that surprised him.

  “Hell, no, they’re bringing in soldiers...a lot of soldiers.”

  He pointed off at the shapes.

  “Good,” growled Gun, “that’s exactly what I had in mind.”

  Spartan grabbed one of the ammunition packs and climbed over the wreckage, moving away from them to the right and in the direction of the enemy. He stopped behind a row of six large rocks large enough to hide a figure even as big as Gun.

  “Spartan, what are you doing?” asked the General.

  Spartan’s armour was already shifting in colour to match the muted tones of the rock, as opposed to the metal of the train. He placed his rifle on the ground and opened up the pack. Inside were eight clips for the long-rifle. He looked over his left shoulder to the others.

  “I have the camouflage and armour. I’ll hold the perimeter and watch your flank. If they get past me, you’ll finish them off.”

  Gun made to join him, but Daniels grabbed his arm.

  “No. You’ve not got armour, old friend. Leave him. We’ll hold the train.”

  Syala whipped out her backup sidearm, checked the magazine, and slid it back in its holster before speaking.
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  “Yes, I’ll be here, too.”

  Gun still focused his attention on their distant enemies. The Hornet aircraft had regrouped into a single large formation and were no more than twenty metres off the ground. Beneath them hung the shapes of cloth-covered soldiers, each with the drop backpacks to help them land. Only three of the Hornets remained away from the group. These were the ones circling directly around their position.

  “Wait until they’re close, real close,” said Gun.

  His voice was firm, almost grim. Yet for all the peril they were in, he gave the impression he was almost excited at this entire prospect. Three green flashes announced Spartan was firing, and two managed to strike the nose of the nearest aircraft. The magnetically contained projectile punched through the thin plating as if it were wet tissue, causing a series of explosions that ripped it apart.

  “Not bad. I thought he was saving his ammo?” Syala said.

  Gun laughed and began counting out as he watched the soldiers closing in on them. The aircraft were staying well away from Spartan, for good reason. They were lightly armed and designed more for scouting and raiding than direct combat. He stopped counting and looked to the other two.

  “I count over two hundred soldiers, and they are coming this way.”

  As he looked back, the first began leaping from the aircraft. The pinpricks of light from their thrusters were all that betrayed their positions as they fell to the ground and moved in at a jog. Dozens hit the ground, and as each aircraft emptied its cargo, it turned away to provide long-range fire support.

  “Good,” said Syala, “I’m getting bored waiting.”

  She took aim with her rifle and watched a squad of six clambering over a long ribbon of razor sharp rocks. They had a mixture of long-rifles and machete type blades in their hands. Each was covered in the sand colour cloth, giving them their nomadic look, but she had little doubt they were heavily armoured underneath.