War Zone (Star Crusades: Mercenaries Book 5)

by Thomas, Michael G.

  The man's eyes rolled back, and he dropped to the ground, blood oozing out in a wide puddle from the multiple mortal wounds. The fireteam's corporal bent down, checked his comrade’s life signs, and then rose back up, his weapon ready for combat.

  "What now, Sir?"

  Voices increased in volume, and Gun could tell they were in trouble. His gut told him to turn around to make a stand and fight, but his mind told him otherwise. He clenched his massive fists and then made a rapid check of his personal weapon. At the same time, the indicators for the local network flashed green, showing the tactical network was back online.

  "Your name, son?"

  "Corporal Saxon, Sir."

  "Okay, Saxon. We keep pressing on. You and your marines will stay with us, understood?"

  The Corporal nodded.

  "Good. Now, the rest of you, cut local comms, go dark. They know our channels, encoding, and methods. Time to change the game."

  One by one the trainees cut their feeds, severing their links to other units in the World Ship, as well as anybody else's ability to monitor or track their progress. As the connections broke apart, Gun noticed one thing that sent a shiver through his body. Green icons that represented CTC and Alliance combat units. They were clumped together in multiple locations, a sure sign of a major battle. There were equal numbers of units from both groups on the World Ship, a compromise made from the start. Gun noticed a larger docking bay near to the shipyard production lines. It now contained multiple new units that the system did not recognise.

  They're landing mercenaries in the main landing bay.

  Gun knew the ship well, better than any CTC operative, a benefit of being in direct contact with On'Sarax and the other surviving Biomech rebels. He pointed off into the bowels of the ship where the wide passage vanished into a large double blast door, and then out into a large open section. Another small group of trainees appeared from a side passage, and Lieutenant Yarmuk signalled for them to join the rest of the group. Most were wearing their trainee body armour, though less than half had helmets. All were armed, though, and some carried CTC weaponry.

  "Third hall, combat suits," shouted their NCO.

  A large calibre shell came at them from behind and miraculously avoided hitting any of them. Instead, it hit the floor plates and exploded, creating a deep hole in the plating that led deep inside the facility. Return fire from the cadets lashed the pursuing enemy, but they already controlled all the routes back, and their numbers seemed to be increasing by the second.

  "I see them," said Lieutenant Yarmuk, "Wait until they get closer. Conserve your ammunition."

  With a quick hand gesture, the trainees separated into fireteams and moved to use every piece of cover they could find. Some used the bulkhead supports; others merely leaned up against the interior walls. At least eight of the well-armoured CTC operatives entered the tunnel. A pair of the heavy suits moved into the passage behind them.

  "Hold!" said the Lieutenant.

  Gun waited and then nodded.

  "Fire!"

  Gun turned his own L48C on them and howled as the powerful weapon thumped back into his body. The 12.7mm shells slammed into the target, sending clouds of sparks in all directions.

  "Drive them back!"

  He now had more than thirty IAB trainees at his command, and they put down an intensive barrage of fire into the passage. Multiple CTC soldiers hit the ground, and he was sure at least three were cut down. Almost immediately, the armoured suits moved past the operatives, stopped, and then deployed articulated shields like the digger buckets on excavator machines. Shots glanced off this tough armour plating, and once ready, the bipedal suits continued to advance, the operatives falling in behind the protection they offered.

  We need to get to the ship. We might be Taxxu's last hope.

  Gun turned back from the approaching enemy and peered into the vastness of the World Ship. He could hide out and fight a long guerrilla battle in this place but knew that wasn't what he needed to do. Gun had to be decisive, and he had to end this betrayal by CTC, and fast.

  Stop them today, or we'll never take this place back.

  "Keep moving. We can't stay back here."

  He moved ahead and led the first team out of their positions. The passageway opened up as they reached one of the massive promenade areas that ran all around the long side of the open space. Doors on each side of the main route led off into other areas, while ramps went down to the lower decks. The open space was vast, with nearly fifteen storeys of the World Ship now visible. On any other occasion, the view would have prompted them to stop, but not today. Even as Gun looked back, he spotted shapes coming from an intersecting passage. Off to the right, vast, deep shafts cut inside the ship, and ahead lay the widest shaft. One he knew ran from top to bottom of the vessel, and provided one of many air distribution shafts. Several narrow gantries led across the shaft that from there looked more like a great cliff.

  "Don't stop!"

  A shot struck the sidewall, and Gun turned his own weapons on the attackers, sending them scurrying for cover. More shots came from the higher levels. The trainees scattered for cover as the entire area filled with tracers and flames. Even Gun was forced from the path as shells slammed around him.

  "We'll hold them back, Sir!"

  Gun watched with surprise as the young Corporal opened up on their attackers. He even jumped out from cover to get their attention, before ducking back. Gun knew bravado, and this wasn't it. The man sounded scared, perhaps even terrified, but he also knew what was at stake.

  Your sacrifice will not be in vain.

  "Brigade, with me!"

  Commander Gun broke cover and ran with every ounce of speed he could muster. There were few things more awe inspiring than seeing a Jötnar moving at speed. That, combined with his PDS armour and the flashes of gunfire, gave him the look of some great metallic god in the middle of a storm. Lieutenant Yarmuk ran right behind him, his arms raised and waving to the others. Dozens of trainees broke ranks, and as bullets clattered about them, they made the rush across the wide chasm. Gun was first across, and as he skidded to a halt, he looked back.

  The IAB trainees ran in a scattered group, using two separate gantries to make the trip. At least three took bullets as they ran, but not one slowed. Just a few more seconds and the entire group were across and through the next set of blast doors. No sooner were they through and one of them hit the panel, bringing the blast doors down with a mighty crunch.

  "Get back!" Gun yelled.

  He lifted his L48C and fired it at point-blank range into the control panel. Small chunks tore off until a grinding sound announced the jamming of the motors. The small party of trainees looked to Gun desperate to know his next orders.

  "Sir?" asked the Lieutenant.

  Gun deactivated his helmet, and the plating slid past to reveal his face. After all this exertion, he'd barely broken out into a sweat. He reached out with one hand and pointed into the distant passageway.

  "Stay with me. I know the way. No matter what happens, keep moving."

  With barely time for an acknowledgment, they moved away, as a high-velocity shell struck exactly where they'd been standing. A trainee looked back at the gaping hole in the ground, but one of his comrades crashed into his back and forced him to keep moving.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Fortress Alpha, Southern Depression

  14 December 2472

  Spartan opened his eyes and tried to sit up. It had been over a week since the terrible and bloody battle of Movi, and still the war raged on. Even before he took another breath, he could sense the smell of oil, guns, ammunition, and people.

  So many people!

  Spartan blinked and slowly moved his muscles. After years of combat, he was well used to the problem of rapid movement after sustaining injury. His head rolled fine, and he swallowed, instantly noticing how dry his throat was. Then came his shoulders, and to his surprise everything worked.

  I'm not out of this fight, no
t yet.

  Then he moved lower, and the first thing that hit him was the weakness in his stomach muscles, followed by a surge of pain. He didn't remember where he was for a moment, but as his eyes adjusted, he instantly recognised the medical bay in their forward fortress.

  Great, I'm here again.

  Spartan knew the place as though he'd always lived there. Since the defeat at Tanau, the remainder of his forces had been forced back, and though they'd held a number of strongpoints, some were better placed to hold than others. Fortress Alpha was the first such service platform, situated beneath the no-man's-land between the mainly Byotai controlled Movi and the enemy held Tanau. Though less than fifty kilometres from enemy lines, the journey underground took vastly longer. Most of the tunnels were now collapsed, or intentionally blocked to reduce the number of navigable routes. None knew the tunnels like the Byotai did, and they'd turned defeat into a terrible, bleeding wound for the regime commanded from Montu.

  Every day hunting teams ventured out into the tunnel system, looking for civilians to press into service, or soldiers to kill. For every ten sent underground, half never returned. Each a victim to the traps, ambushes, and secret tunnels that filled the new and terrible battlefield. Front-line meant little now, such distinctions were from another time. Those living in the dirt of the planet were now simply known as the Rats of Karnak.

  By the time Spartan took in his third breath, a shape entered. His eyes were sore, but he recognised a female form. His mind instantly shifted to the one person he really wanted to see right now.

  "Syala."

  The shape moved closer and placed a cool hand against his face.

  "No. It's Kanjana."

  The pale Anicinàbe smiled and bent down to check his torso. Spartan let out a long, slow breath and relaxed.

  "You're healing up well, this time. You need to stop getting shot."

  Spartan twisted his middle and rose to a sitting position. The pain in his stomach muscles sent a spasm through his body, but he fought it off and turned his attention to the young woman. For all her alien looks, she was still like family to him.

  "You can't sleep for much longer, though, we have news."

  "Syala?" Spartan asked, again saying the exact same word. Kanjana shook her head.

  "No, the sisters are not here. Remember, it was your idea."

  "It was?"

  Spartan sounded a little dreary and confused, but already his senses were returning. He was familiar with the routine, having sustained injury after injury in the past. Kanjana took a cloth from her flank and ran it gently over Spartan’s face. She then leaned in a little closer.

  "Yes. You want command split up for the campaign, until Gun and the others get here."

  Spartan swallowed uncomfortably at that. Clearly his words had travelled throughout the defenders' camp concerning help. He'd intentionally done nothing to stifle that kind of conversation, but still, it left him feeling more than a little guilty. Knowing that help was coming was critical in keeping the nervous and fractious Byotai in the fight. Yet only he and Khan knew what was really happening, and if any of them had told the Byotai the truth, Spartan shivered just thinking about it.

  "Right. Yes, I do remember."

  Kanjana laughed.

  "Yes. You split command into two sectors. One group commands the entire Eastern warfront. The Central zones under the command of the sisters protects the cities from external attack, and acts as our reserve."

  Spartan nodded along as though bored.

  "Yes, I do remember. Syala, Arana with their Widows, and Tanis with the Blood Pack have the Central zone, plus all of our reserves."

  "Exactly," said Kanjana, "and we are the front-line against attacks from Tanau."

  Spartan tried to look positive, but the description made their situation appear even bleaker than he remembered. Instead of a fluid campaign where they retained the initiative, the battle had transformed. The myriad of Star Empire forces arrived by aircraft from their base in Montu to the new front-line in Tanau. Almost daily they then sent out patrols, raiding parties, and wave attacks against any isolated Byotai positions. Spartan could prolong the fight, but with each passing day, victory slipped further from his grasp.

  "That's not why I'm here, though. I bring desperate news."

  Spartan sighed, and then almost laughed at her worries.

  "Kanjana, it's always urgent, critical, or life threatening. What makes this one particularly desperate?"

  "Because this time it's personal."

  The voice was different, and a large shape moved from the shadows of the arched doorway. The shape meant it could be one of no more than a few individuals, but the voice was an instant giveaway. Spartan had made many friends and enemies in his life, but the number of close friends could be numbered on his fingers. With so much loss over just a few decades, he valued that small number more than entire ships of crew and passengers.

  "Khan. Come on, then, you're killing me with anticipation. Just tell me."

  Spartan tensed and untensed his muscles before looking down at the repaired wound. A line of synthetic stitches covered the entry point, and as he touched them, he remembered the last few days. The fighting had been terrible on the surface, but it was the days after that left more than physical scars on his body. Dozens more had died from their wounds, and many now hobbled about with horrendous injuries. Spartan knew the defenders were at breaking point, and many had already defected.

  "The enemy is dropping notices throughout the ruins, and they're having an effect."

  "Notices?"

  Even Kanjana seemed unimpressed at the news. Khan shrugged.

  "The pair of traitors have built a fortified nest at Montu, but still they cannot beat us."

  Footsteps echoed through the room, and all three turned to see two Byotai enter. The first was Commander Knaro, the senior figure amongst the Byotai, and officially the commander of the Byotai resistance. At his side was a blacked figure, taller than any other Byotai Spartan had seen before. He moved closer, stopped, and then removed his helmet. Beneath the armour was a horribly disfigured face, but his eyes burned yellow. The bone structure marked him out as a reptilian.

  "Uktakki?"

  The alien lowered his head in recognition, turning his gaze to stare into Spartan's eyes. He started to speak, and after a few brief words with Knaro, Kanjana translated.

  "Uktakki..."

  As she said the name, she averted looking at him, as if mentioning his name was some kind of great dishonour.

  "...He says the enemy is turning to new tactics to fight this war. The notices offer amnesty, food, shelter, and a place in the new regime. They are being offered citizenship, and rumours are spreading fast."

  Khan snarled as he listed, but Spartan lifted his hand for Uktakki to continue.

  "Go on."

  Kanjana wait for several seconds, and Spartan started to lose patience. He'd never met the warrior up close before, though his reputation had become something of a legend recently.

  "Can you not translate?"

  She snapped back, losing her characteristic self-control. What she lacked in physical attributes she made up for with finesse, technical skills, and an ability to pick up languages in an impossibly short time.

  "He does not speak common Byotai. He is using some kind of battle variant."

  Knaro smiled as he listened.

  "It is true. Uktakki lacks many of the formalities we are used to. He had been in the wild for a long time. There is a reason he has seventy-four confirmed kills to his name now."

  The battle-scarred soldier continued to speak, and Kanjana did her best to translate.

  "Two squads of militia have already defected and opened a gap in our lines three kilometres to the East. Enemy units have entered the tunnel system and are engaging our pickets to keep our reserves from sealing the breach."

  Spartan grimaced and swung his feet off the bed. Uktakki lifted both hands to stop him.

  "What is it?"
<
br />   Uktakki spoke fast, using words that had more in common with guttural grunts and groans. Even Knaro seemed to have difficulty in what he was saying. Kanjana interrupted him several times, and he started to argue with her. At one point, he hissed and lifted a hand, only for Khan to grab it and begin to squeeze.

  "Khan...enough!"

  Though he released, it wasn't until he gave the mysterious soldier another squeeze that left him wincing. This time he appeared to listen to Kanjana much more carefully, and they exchanged words for nearly a minute before she turned to Spartan. At the same time, the disfigured soldier pulled a badly damage communications unit from inside his armour. The unit was non-functioning, but one small display flickered with a green light. A quick examination from both Kanjana and Knaro left them with a good deal of surprise on their faces.

  "Well?" Spartan demanded.

  His feet were now on the ground

  "They have found one of your...Biomech commanders, and will expend any number of soldiers to get him."

  Khan and Spartan shared a look of disbelief. Spartan's mouth hung open, but Khan spoke first.

  "Olik? But he's dead."

  Spartan rubbed at his forehead as he listened intently. He'd given up on Olik weeks ago, and just the possibility that he was alive filled him with guilt.

  "We should never have given up on him so fast."

  Khan snorted in derision.

  "Are you joking? We hit the crash sites, three times. Fought six separate skirmishes and lost almost an entire platoon of militia. There were no tracks or signs of the bodies inside the burnt out wrecks."

  Uktakki grunted again, but this time all of them identified the name as he pronounced it, albeit it with a little difficulty. He looked at Khan specifically, and one of his eyes opened wider as he watched for Khan's reaction. Kanjana translated and appeared to be the only one unaffected by the news as she worked through his words and clauses one by one.

  "This device says they have located the war criminal known as Khan, and have him, and other prisoners from the fighting eighteen days ago."

  Spartan’s expression was a mix of surprise, and more than a little amusement. Khan has been called many things in the past, but hearing their new enemy describing either of them as a war criminal was quite a joke.