Now we'll see if this plan is worth the paper it was written on.
The massive underground base was not the only resource he had at his control. As well as a small number of warships, he also had access to the Prometheus Seven Station. In the past, it had once been a beacon of private enterprise and later one of corruption and criminal activity. Now it was being used as a major orbital platform to control the region of space around Prometheus, and more important to act as a power station for the Prometheus-Orion Rift system.
Thousands of personnel now called the gigantic structure home. A small garrison protected it as well as several squadrons of fighters. With a circumference of over six kilometers, it was one of mankind’s greatest ever construction projects, ranking in importance to other famous bases such as the Titan Naval Station in orbit around Prime.
“Admiral, a message from P7, they have long-range imagery of the ships. Their database matches are already on the displays,” said the communications officer.
Admiral Churchill looked to the bank of screens on the wall and did his utmost to remain calm. The generic images of space quickly changed as each screen focused on a separate stream coming directly from the station. They showed the groups of dark shapes as ship after ship emerged from their hiding places inside the storm.
“Get me a full tactical assessment.”
He watched carefully, his eyes taking in every detail of the odd assortment of ships. As more arrived, he found his pulse quicken at the realization the planet was now surrounded by enemy ships. He looked to the large tactical display that showed him all of his available assets, and for a moment it improved his confidence. Even though his only ship-based protection was ANS Dreadnought, two small T'Kari vessels, and seven of the new Liberty class ships, he felt sure the additional defenses would be enough.
“Admiral, Colonel Morato requests an update.”
He looked at the screens and then spun about, quicker than he intended.
“In a moment. Before we get to that, I need information, and fast, dammit!”
Prometheus was more than just the planet, and to defend it, he would need access to every piece of information and every weapons system to hand. The base itself was equipped with an array of ground-based weapons that would make a direct assault deadly to an attacker. The smaller orbiting transit and defense platforms provided additional firepower. Last but not least, the P7 station was equipped with enough fighters and weapons to take on an entire Battlecruiser.
It's enough to look realistic. Hell, if might be a little too much. We don’t want to start a six-month operation just as the entire Helios thing kicks off. No. We need this fleet destroyed and as quickly as possible.
He looked back to his crew of the best men and women in the Alliance.
We have much bigger fish to fry than just some Biomech locals.
The first ships to appear in orbit around Prometheus were seven civilian transports. Each of them was of a vintage older than any other ship in the system. Right behind them came fifteen cruiser-sized vessels, each multi-colored, and protected by thick plating and covered in thick studs that ran along the underside and flanks.
"Get me schematics on those ships, what do we have?" he demanded.
Confidence had started to return, but the sight of these new vessels sent a shudder through his body. Transports and cruisers he could deal with, but unknowns were an ever-present worry with the Biomechs. He tried to forget what had happened to his own ships back in the War, but no matter how hard he tried, the betrayal of the machines that had turned his own ships against him was still a fresh wound.
A quick check on the system by the science and tactical officers came up with nothing. It came down to a chance examination of internal files by Intelligence Director Johnson, who had been silent until now as he'd been cross-examining the data from Terra Nova with what had been transmitted from Mars.
"I've got something," he said, much to the Admiral's surprise.
"What? How?"
Director Johnson approached him and motioned with his hands to send a stream of imagery to his screen from his secpad. The details of a ship structure and approximate design by the tactical computers had come up with something surprisingly similar to what they were looking at.
"It's the same configuration as the ships reported by Spartan, during their captivity by the T'Kari Raiders."
The Admiral sucked in a long breath as he skimmed through the text.
"This is all we have to go on?"
"His reports are fragmentary at best. Don't forget, the man was away for months while being tortured and trying to escape. He was a prisoner aboard a T'Kari Raider and then a Biomech heavy warship. You know his quality as an observer though."
Admiral Churchill stepped in front of the tactical display. He had already moved in his small force of ships to act as a skirmish screen, with his single Battlecruiser operating as the flagship. It was a modest force at best, and everybody in that room, and probably throughout Prometheus, knew that as well.
Let's hope they know that too.
“What about these transports?”
Horner, the stations tactical officer brought up three detailed images of the ships, all of them from many years earlier. As tactical officer for the entire base, he was responsible for monitoring everything within range of the base’s own sensors and weapon systems, as well as providing tactical assistance via the automated internal defenses.
“Admiral, the computer matches for those ships is accurate. All seven were flagged as lost during the battle over Terra Nova. They attempted to break the Alliance blockade of the Rift to Proxima Centauri, along with two missile cruisers and a single battleship.”
“And?”
“Well, Sir, all of the ships were reported as lost.”
“Lost my ass,” the Admiral muttered, shaking his head in annoyance. “Those ships were part of the Echidna Union, and if I remember rightly, they were used to transport thousands of Biomech creatures directly into battle.”
He looked at the ships and nodded grimly to himself.
“Yeah, I’ve seen those before, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting them land a single soldier on Prometheus.”
It had taken a few seconds, but now he remembered where he’d seen them last. It has been during the fighting on Euryale in the last part of the War. The fighting had shifted from insurgency and retreat to a full-scale conventional war against the enemy. Those transports had been the backbone of the enemy forces in providing logical support to the battle.
“Captain, I want all weapons in this sector trained on those ships first. We know their weaknesses, unlike the other ships.”
“What about the others, Admiral?”
“We’ll deal with them next. Our resources are finite. Let’s hope theirs are too.”
He then turned his attention toward the communications officer.
“Get me Colonel Morato, ASAP!”
* * *
Teresa had only just made it back into the central plaza when the Admiral managed to get back to her. It had taken so long she’d begun to wonder if he’d forgotten about her and her marines as they waited for the inevitable fight. Now that she was encased in her PDS Alpha armor, she had been forced to put the secpad away and rely upon the more comprehensive internal communications system. Rather than an excessive additional display, the Alpha visor featured a detailed overlay that could present all manner of details, including full bandwidth visual communications traffic. An icon appeared and she selected it with her retina.
“Colonel, you’ve seen the feeds. There’s more…”
Teresa didn’t like what she was hearing from the Admiral. As he continued, her expression changed to one that became grimmer by the second. Even as he spoke, she was able to sift through additional reports coming to her from the sensors on the Prometheus base. Every single one confirmed exactly what she had expected; that they could expect a major offensive in the Prometheus sector, and more importantly that they were un
derequipped to deal with substantial space-based threat. Eventually, he finished his hurried summary and waited for her thoughts.
“Colonel, we’ve got a lot to do, and very little time to do it. Tell me, can you hold this place against those kinds of numbers?”
Teresa nodded in agreement and moved behind one of the defensive lines built in the center of the plaza. She noted with satisfaction that her orders had been adhered to, and more heavy weapons had been brought in. The low wall looked like a porcupine bristling with spikes.
“Admiral, that is a lot of ships. I mean a lot. Seven transports, with anything up to a thousand creatures on board if I remember correctly. As for those other fifteen ships, we don’t even know what they’re carrying. Do they match the specifications of the craft Admiral Lewis fought near Gaxos?”
He said nothing and merely shook his head briefly.
“Okay, well, do we have any idea of their capability?”
Admiral Churchill called to somebody off camera and then looked back.
“The unknown craft look like assault ships. Director Johnson says their configuration matches our files as having been spotted alongside T’Kari Raider vessels. We suspect these are some of the ships that hit the T’Kari hard in the past.”
Teresa considered his words carefully. The Raider ships were something the Alliance had only encountered once reaching T’Karan. Small groups of ships performed hit and run attacks, often to destroy equipment or to take prisoners. The very idea that she was now on the most infamous of the entire enemy’s prison worlds sent a chill through her body.
Are we here to be taken prisoner again?
“You think they are here to take prisoners?”
Admiral Churchill considered that, but only for a moment and quickly discounted it.
“I very much doubt it. Our combined fleet is already through the Helios Rift. They will be in range in a matter of hours to intercept Biomech forces on the way to Helios.”
He gave her a grim look and continued.
“These ships are here for their commander, and we’ll make them pay in blood for him.”
That’s it. There’s no way General Rivers would send away our entire strength when this Biomech threat remained, and Churchill; just look at him. He’s almost pleading with me to tell him the plan.
It wasn’t much to go on, but Teresa felt a little less panicked having heard the fake details she assumed she was being fed.
Well, I’d better do my part.
“Admiral. The troops you’ve given me simply aren’t up to the job. The weapons grid in bays three and four are offline, and half the marines are still preparing their defenses.”
He looked at her, and Teresa was convinced she could see the tiniest of smiles on his face.
“How long do you need?”
Teresa considered that for a moment.
Less than an hour to perform a combat drop, and at least three hours to reach a drop orbit over Prometheus, to push them into action it needs to be soon.
“Six hours, Admiral. Give me that long, and I’ll have this base locked down for weeks, maybe even months. I can hold this facility, but not indefinitely. What’s your plan?”
He looked back at her as if he wanted to say something. There was the shortest pause, and then he rubbed his nose while speaking.
“As I said, the fleet is en route to Helios, so we’re it right now. Our job is to act defiantly, as though we are expecting reinforcements at any moment. We cannot let them know how thinly protected we are.”
Teresa looked carefully at him, but apart from the rubbing of the nose, there was nothing she could see to give him away.
Then why explain our most significant military assessment over the comms channel, and minutes before the start of the fight?
She began to smile and did her best to hide it. It was all clear to her now.
“The Biomech Commander, Krani, I have him locked down inside the secure hangar, as instructed. They will not get him. I promise you.”
* * *
Admiral Churchill moved his attention back to the scores of feeds coming in from all kinds of sources. Even though Prometheus had become a major Alliance base of operations, there were still plenty of private enterprises in operation. Medium sized commercial space stations orbited the planet, and there were many ongoing mining projects, both on the surface and along the perimeter of the storm region. Almost every one of these had begun sending detailed video streams of the approaching ships, and it was all beginning to worry him. He identified the shapes of the small Alliance fleet and tapped the largest of the icons for the Battlecruiser ANS Dreadnought. An image appeared almost instantly, showing her commander.
“Captain Nikova. Your forces are ready?”
“Yes, Admiral. All fighters have been launched, and our targets are preset. All we need is the word to go.”
“Good...good work. Standby.”
He looked back at the screens and waited. As well as the feeds from space, there were also internal feeds showing the key tactical areas of the massive underground facility. The nearest screen showed him the plan for the base, as well as live video streams from each of his senior commanders. Movement caught his eye on one of the screens, and then the main screen turned black.
“What’s going on?”
A dozen pairs of eyes turned to the black display that flickered between colors and then as quickly as it had been black, it changed to a whirlpool pattern.
“Rift has just opened up on the border of the storm region,” said Captain Horner.
Admiral Churchill moved his hand to press a button, but Director Johnson placed his hand over his.
“No, we thought this might happen.”
The Admiral raised an eyebrow but left his hand in position.
“You expected another Rift?”
Johnson smiled.
“Not exactly, but if they truly believe we are weakened and that we have their commander. Well, what would you do?”
“Strike at our heart, and fast. They will secure Prometheus, take control of the P7 station, and then split us away from helping in T’Karan and beyond.”
He looked back at the disposition of ships.
“The T’Kari can shut that Rift down in seconds.”
Johnson shook his head.
“No, let them keep it open. We need all of their forces before we spring our trap.”
Admiral Churchill looked at his face, now beginning to realize the man’s worth.
“Very well.”
He tapped a different icon, and T’Kron, the commander of the T’Kari Exiles appeared.
“T’Kron, it is time.”
The T’Kari commander lowered his head and the images vanished. Admiral Churchill then looked back at Captain Nikova of ANS Dreadnought.
“Prepare for your attack.”
She saluted quickly and smartly.
“Look at this,” said Captain Horner.
Once more, all eyes returned to the view of the new Rift as a large ship entered the system. It was shaped in a similar fashion to that of the other fifteen Biomech ships, except this one was easily three times larger and shaped like a squat trilobite. The short length was very thickly ribbed with bulbous armored sections that gave the impression the ship itself was articulated. Director Johnson turned away and spoke into an earpiece before approaching Admiral Churchill.
“My agents on P7 have intercepted Biomech transmissions from that ship. They are using the same encoding as those coming from Terra Nova at the end of the War.”
That sent a chill down the Admiral’s back.
“The AI Core?”
Johnson nodded.
“The commander of the…uh…large ship wishes to speak with us, Admiral,” said the communications officer.
He extended his had partially toward the viewscreen, and it changed to show a trio of men. At first Admiral Churchill thought it was an emergency transmission from the Prometheus Seven Station, but it only took a few seconds for him to reco
gnize that the background was black and red, and nothing like any ship he’d ever seen before. The man at the front of the group spoke first.
“Admiral Churchill, I presume.”
Before he could respond, he noticed a message had just arrived on his secpad. He looked to his right. Captain Horner was beckoning toward the device. While keeping as calm as possible, he lifted it and briefly scanned the message.
Their fleet is on a course for Prometheus itself. I see.
He looked into the eyes of the man on the alien ship, and only then did he recognize him.
"Typhon," he hissed under his teeth.
The man smiled with unconcealed pleasure.
“In the flesh, as you might say. I have been authorized to grant you sixty seconds to hand over our ally.”
“Ally? I don’t know what you are talking about? The Alliance doesn’t negotiate with terrorists, Biomechs…and especially the dead!”
He’d expected a Biomech or another kind of semi-automated system to communicate with them. The fact they had chosen to reveal these agents from the past confirmed many things to him. First, Typhon was well known as the key figure behind the Biomech creatures in the last war. Second, he also knew the man had been killed, and this transmission now confirmed that this, and possibly the Typhon killed on Terra Nova, were nothing more than fabricated humans designed to do the machines’ bidding. There had been much speculation to this point since the end of the War, and he felt almost disappointed at the revelation. He looked to Director Johnson who looked equally fascinated.
So, now we know.
The Admiral turned his attention back to the three men. He examined their faces, gestures, and especially their clothing. It was something he’d seen only in the history books, the garb of the long forgotten and defeated Centauri League that had occurred over seventy years ago. On their chests lay the emblem of Echidna, the mother of beasts, and the hated symbol used by Biomech sympathizers in the Great Uprising. Typhon look unperturbed at what he was saying.
Star Crusades Nexus: Book 06 - Call to Arms Page 14