“What’s happening?” asked the Lieutenant with a catch in his throat.
A handful of the marines from the squad that had arrived to help dropped down into cover around them and boosted their number to nine, but at least two showed signs of damage to their armor.
“The frontline at the bunkers has been overrun. The machine is moving through the base. The right has held, and the machine that hit us is on its way to the vehicle pool.”
“Dammit, is there anything that can stop them?”
Riku looked off to her right and thumbed in the direction of the machine.
“I see the machine and about sixty of those things heading for the pool. Everybody else is moving to the outer walls. The rest of the Biomechs will be here soon. Look at your drone overview.”
Jack already had and was doing his best to avoid looking at the red arrows marking the advance of the enemy. According to the dozens of drones circling overhead, there were now over twenty of the massive machines, and most less than a kilometer away from the walls.
“Riku, look, it’s Gun!” he explained upon seeing his friend.
She twisted to the right and spotted Gun, along with his retinue of bloodied Jötnar and Vanguards. They’d been joined by two platoons of marines and were formed up in ranks behind the storage tanks and machine parts of the vehicle pool. There must have been crew inside the waiting Bulldogs as well because four of them turned their turrets toward the advancing enemy and opened fire. The weight of fire was terrifying to behold. The large machine lost a leg and an arm in seconds; two-dozen of the creatures fell under the avalanche of gunfire.
“Jack!” Callahan shouted.
There seemed to be trouble in every direction, but the marine was now pointing off to their left. He moved his eyes and spotted the shape. There was a large group of the Biomech creatures creeping through the ruins of the barracks and moving in on the flank of Gun and his defenders.
“I see them.”
He looked back at his commander who had now lifted himself up and leaned against the rubble with his carbine in his hands.
“Private Riku, you stay here with me. We’ll watch your backs. You need to take these marines and help Gun before he gets himself killed. I’ll let him know you’re coming.”
He then beckoned to the other marines.
“Private Morato is your temporary sergeant. Now stop those things!”
Jack looked at Elvidge and then to Riku. She looked pained, presumably because she was being forced to stay behind. Jack could understand, but he did feel a lot happier at having her expert marksmanship watching them from a distance. He looked at the other six marines, including Callahan that he now commanded.
“Okay, they don’t know we’re here. Follow me, and keep your heads down!”
He moved off with Callahan right on his flank. The other five followed in a staggered line and with their carbines at their shoulders ready. Once out from the cover, they moved along the side of the collapsed barracks and toward the open ground near the vehicle pool. Their line of sight was partially obstructed, but already they could see the group of Biomech warriors moving in on Gun’s position. Further in the distance, the vast shape of the metal war machine clambered on; its great arms smashing into parked vehicles and its weapon sponsons pouring fire into any marine that dared show his face. Jack’s nerves were on edge, but the adrenalin pumping through his body gave him that feeling of recklessness, even immortality that he only felt in these situations.
“Fix bayonets,” he said quietly.
Two had already done so, and it took only a moment for the rest to do the same. The blade on the end of the weapon only marginally increased their effectiveness as a weapon at close range, but Jack knew too well the psychological edge it gave a warrior when carrying such a device. He looked at them and was thankful it was so hard to see their expressions through their smoked visors. The last thing he needed to see was doubt or fear. He had enough of that himself. Jack turned back toward the enemy, took a single deep breath, and then cried out.
“Attack!”
He leapt from cover and ran as fast as he could to the rear of the group. The others charged alongside him, all with their carbines held low and the razor sharp blades extending outwards. None fired until they were on the back of the enemy unit. Jack stuck his blade between the shoulder blades of the nearest creature, and the others piled in behind him. Callahan opened fire first, and then all hell broke loose.
CHAPTER NINE
The Black Rift was an often-confused title for the region of space controlled by the Narau control facility. Apparently, the term was created by the Helions, as an insult to their Great Enemy during their banishment from the Council of the Great Powers. Only the massive starbase originally constructed by the Biomechs in the distant past could create and manage the Spacebridge to their homeworld. Now under control of the Narau, it could be shut down permanently or even worse, used to despoil the area of space around it so that no Rift could stabilize. It was the ultimate deterrent to the Biomechs ever attempting a return from their remote home.
Accounts of the Prophecy of Fire
The shuttle moved to its final docking phase at it approached the gleaming shape of ANS Dreadnought, the latest warship to move into position around the capital world of the Alliance. As one of the Conqueror Class Battlecruisers, her design was incredibly flexible, and it had been boasted by the Naval engineers that the universal design ships could be refitted in less than two months from a battleship to a carrier, or even as a dedicated marine transport. This particular model was new to Teresa though. Her mind was elsewhere, but she tried her best to show some degree of interest in her temporary home.
Another ship and more people I’ve never met before.
She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry, almost making her cough. Teresa noticed a few changes from the last ship of this type she’d seen, and for a moment was able to concentrate on it. Now it was becoming more obvious that Dreadnought had been fitted out differently to the popular carrier variants being built throughout the Alliance. She pulled out her secpad and selected the schematic for the ship. It listed the weapons and configuration, as well as the current commander and her command staff. Although structurally the same, she was one of only a few that had found her mission modules reduced in size to accommodate the large flank weapon modules. With a pair on each side of the ship, she would have forward facing railguns, as well as the standard fitment of particle beam emitters. Teresa looked up from the display and back out of the small window from the shuttle. The warship filled most of her view, but she could also see the twinkling light reflecting off scores, perhaps hundreds of other vessels.
So, the fleet is getting ready for war…again.
She gazed at the glinting shapes; none of them proved particularly reassuring. They might be ships, but she knew the disposition of the Alliance Navy well enough to know that almost every vessel out there was a civilian craft. Most would be large transports, haulers, and refinery ships while a smaller number would ferry people to the moons or to larger ships. Thoughts of ships brought her right back to her family and their scattering through the stars. Spartan was stuck in Sol somewhere, Jack fighting on Eos, and her other two children, Matius and Ingo had been split up to serve on different ships in the fleet.
What is normal with our family?
She tried to remember the last time they’d been together. The best she could manage was when she’d first arrived at the medical station on Terra Nova. Spartan had been gone for so long she’d forgotten he wasn’t even there, and that sent shivers through her body. Teresa was still in shock at the news from Earth.
“Major, we have docked,” said the young crewman nearby.
Teresa looked at him before realizing they had entered the aft hangar bay and already linked up to the docking clamp inside the landing bay. She looked out of the window. Instead of the blackness of space, there was the gray interior of another ship.
Ah, well, let’s get
this sorted.
She lifted herself from her seat and walked to the door. She was the only passenger, with the bulk of the space being used to transport fresh food and materials for the voyage. She moved out of the small doorway and ducked slightly to avoid striking her head on the bulkhead. She wore her Marine Corps uniform with the long coat that was cut in a similar fashion to that of the Navy. Her long black hair was technically well past the regulation length, but so far nobody had been brave enough to bring it up with her. She’d tied it back to keep it out of the way. Just a few more steps and her feet touched the reassuringly firm metal floor of the massive warship. A man’s voice called out, and a group of officers stood smartly to attention. Teresa had been so busy looking about the expanse of the hangar she’d failed to realize they were waiting for her.
Great, the welcoming committee!
She stepped away from the shuttle and moved to the line of officers. A tall blonde woman smiled as she stopped in front of her.
“Major, it is good to see you. Welcome to ANS Dreadnought, the most powerful ship in the fleet. I am Captain Vetlaya Nikova, commander of this task force. I’m afraid I don’t have much time for formalities. We leave orbit in thirty minutes.”
“Captain,” replied Teresa, “we are not staying here with the 2nd Heavy Strike Group?”
Captain Nikova smiled, but Teresa could see it was a front.
“No, the 2nd is fully formed and already en route to the Proxima Rift. They are establishing a blockade force on both sides to keep Terra Nova safe. We have to maintain the link between Proxima and here.”
“I see.”
“We have a different job, to operate as a reserve for forces assembling out on the border. We will be linking up with a small T’Kari contingent and reinforcing the Admiral Jarvis Naval Station. If trouble kicks off at Helios, we’ll be just hours from the Rift.”
“My transfer orders say I should be rejoining my unit upon their return from operations in Helios. In the meantime, I am to assist in the command of the 39th?”
“That is correct. The 39th is a temporary field unit made up of units we’ve been able to scrape together.”
She looked a little embarrassed.
“I’m afraid I have duties to attend to, Major. We will be joining the 3rd, and time is critical.”
She paused and reached down to take out a small pouch. With no attempt at ceremony, she reached out to Teresa with the small object in her hand.
“I’m sorry about the lack of, well, you know. Due to your new command, you have been given a temporary promotion to Lieutenant Colonel.”
She placed the pouch in the palm of her right hand.
“We’re spread out thin, Colonel. I need your unit ready for combat and fast. Major Terson will bring you up to speed with regards to your posting.”
That was it, and as Teresa stood still and looked at the small metal objects in the pouch, the ship’s Captain walked away. With these niceties over, the Captain and her small cadre of Navy officers vanished from the hangar, leaving just Teresa, Major Terson, and three captains. Teresa watched her go with more than a little annoyance showing on her face.
“Don’t blame her, Colonel. You see we are not technically a Strike Group. We shouldn’t even be leaving this sector, not for at least six months. Instead, we’re operating as a reserve for the 3rd, and Captain Nikova is not happy.”
“Yes, I can see that. Things are a little more strained than I expected. Is it normally like that here?”
The younger Major smiled and nodded to her officers.
“No, we were all rushed here, along with most of the other marine units and ships for this. We are seriously under strength, just three complete companies made up of a bizarre assortment of platoons. These are our three company commanders.”
Teresa looked up from her new insignia at the marines.
“I don’t understand. My orders were that my transfer was a temporary one to the 39th. What’s going on?”
Major Terson nodded in agreement.
“That was correct, maybe an hour ago. Since then, reports are coming in of major reversal in Helios. Reserve units are being called up, including half of this ad-hoc battalion. I hate to break it to you, Colonel, but your posting to the 39th will be for the duration.”
“Duration?” she asked, still not entirely comprehending what the Major was saying.
“Have you not seen the news? The Alliance has announced formal declarations of war against the Biomech invasion of Helios.”
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 tim
e 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.”
Star Crusades Nexus: The Second Trilogy Page 37