Star Crusades Uprising: The Second Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

“Hey,” said Terry as he thumped Vince in the arm.

  “You’ve seen them up close, then?” Vince asked.

  Misaki looked a little confused.

  “The factories?”

  “No, I mean the Biomechs.”

  “Oh, right. Yes, I’ve seen them all, and I’ve seen what they can do.”

  Marcus entered the room and noticed the group. Bishop spotted him instantly and signalled for him to approach the table. The new recruits tensed up as they saw the arrival of a decorated and experienced sergeant.

  “Relax, gentlemen. I’m just here for some chow.”

  He sat down next to Vince and Misaki, and placed his tray of food on the table.

  “You have to admit, the food in this place is something else.”

  “You’ve got that right, Sarge,” said Vince.

  Marcus took a bite out of the synthesised meat and chewed for a few seconds before continuing.

  “So what exciting tales are we discussing today?”

  “Prometheus and Biomechs,” replied Vince excitedly.

  Marcus stopped chewing for a moment. The look on his face was as if somebody had just given him the worst of news. The three new marines looked at each other, still unsure what they had said to upset him.

  “Biomechs,” he finally exclaimed, adding no more. Bishop interjected.

  “The Sergeant here was on Prometheus as well as people like Misaki and many others. He has experienced every kind of Biomech you can think of.”

  Marcus nodded slowly.

  “That’s right. I’ve fought them on the hard rubble of Euryale, Prime, in space and even the hot earth of Prometheus. They are though, uncompromising and vicious. Forget the Zealots or the Union. The Biomechs are the power behind them. Without the creatures, they are terrorists and suicide bombers.”

  “But I don’t understand, aren’t some of them on our side now? I thought the Yorkdale was the home of a special unit?”

  “Special alright. Because of Lieutenant Spartan and his Biomech friends, they split my unit apart.”

  “They fight for us, right?” asked Vince.

  Marcus turned to face him, his jaw tightening.

  “For now. Do you honestly feel safe with over a thousand of those things just outside, and all sitting in their own ship? They can go where they please and fight whenever they want. We found them on Prometheus, and they are no different to the ones we had to fight down there. I promise you, one day, maybe tomorrow, they will turn on us.”

  “Spartan would never have gone along with it, if he had even the slightest doubts about them,” countered Bishop.

  “Spartan? He’s gone, Bishop. Since he abandoned us on Euryale, he is more interested in their welfare than us. I tell you now, Spartan is not the man we knew back on Prime.”

  Misaki listened to him with interest. She had a past with Spartan, or at least she liked to think she had. One night on the hot planet, she had forced herself upon him, only to be pushed aside. It was a moment she wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

  “What can we do?” she asked meekly.

  “For starters, we can start talking about them and treat them for what they are.”

  “And what is that?” asked a less than friendly Bishop.

  “Bio-engineered monsters that have one mission in their lives. They exist to attack and destroy anybody that gets in their way, and that includes all of us.”

  Terry looked to Misaki.

  “You’ve met Spartan, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve met him.”

  “Has he changed that much?”

  “I agree with the Sergeant. Since he met his new friends, he’s slipped away from us all. They could easily be part of their plan to make us feel attached or obligated to them in some way.”

  Marcus rested his clenched fist on the table.

  “That’s when they kick us in the nuts.”

  The group fell silent at the last comment. They were unsure as to where the conversation was going.

  “Look at it this way. The loyalty of the Biomechs is just a computer program, and no different to the software on our ships or anything else that uses firmware. It can be updated, improved or just changed. What if they all have the same underlying desire to kill us all? One signal, and they could turn on us. Do you honestly want to have to fight those things up close and personal? I don’t. Trust me, I’ve seen what they are all capable of doing.”

  “Actually, I’ve seen some of the reports on the programming of the Biomechs. Most of it is very simple. With the correct equipment and coding, it would be possible to change their current programming,” said Bishop.

  “Why don’t we do that instead of fighting them?” asked a confused Vince.

  “Because these creatures have to be captured and brought to a centre like the one on Prometheus. Unless you know of any other ways to program them,” replied Marcus suspiciously.

  “If I knew that, don’t you think I might pass it on to the Intel Division?”

  “No, Bishop, I don’t.”

  * * *

  It was turning out to be one of the coldest and most miserable nights Kerberos had seen all year. The bright light from the early rising sun cast soft shadows out into the landing pads and runways. The second, more distant, sun did its bit to add a yellow hue to the morning’s glow. As the light increased, so did the columns of smoke along the horizon. It was like a scene of an apocalyptic event with scores of buildings burning in the distance. Captain Erdeniz and two of his scouts watched from their observation position.

  “Sir, we’re picking up sounds of gunfire and fighting five kilometres away to the north.”

  “Yes, I’m getting the readings as well. This isn’t good. They must be rounding up stragglers.”

  “What about the fires, Sir?”

  “That, I do not know.”

  “So, let’s just do the recount. We have two squads near the barracks and a couple of guards at the tower. The rest are helping to load civilians onto the aircraft.”

  “Yes, Sir. Wait,” the marine pushed the Captain to one side and then rolled behind a rusted metal girder. “Look out, Sir!”

  Erdeniz forced himself lower into the debris as a heavy transport rumbled overhead. It was the same size as the heavy loaders used by the Army and could easily carry upwards of a thousand people. He had seen the specifications, and those kinds of vessels could even land a number of armoured vehicles directly into action.

  “Shit, that was close!” said the marine to his right.

  “You could say that. We need to get going. Pretty soon this transportation will end, and it will be just people like us left here.”

  The number of transports and shuttles was increasing, and from where they watched, it was beginning to look like a mass exodus. The civilians were already being escorted from the massive hangars usually reserved for passenger transports and heavy loaders. Quite a few were struggling, and Captain Erdeniz was convinced they would fight if given the chance.

  Noise behind him gave away Caladus and one of his trusted lieutenants. She was a short woman carrying a heavy looking sniper rile with a large thermal imaging scope fitted along a top rail.

  “I can’t believe how many there are,” said Caladus. “No wonder the city has been so quiet for the last week. We thought most were being arrested or interned, but I had no idea they intended on removing the bulk of the able-bodied population.”

  Erdeniz leaned back, nodding to Caladus.

  “I know, at this rate they will have stripped almost the whole of the western quadrant of the city in less than a day. We have to hit them, and fast, or we’ll lose thousands of citizens, maybe even the colony.”

  Caladus nodded and slid back down to where his own ragtag unit of fighters waited. Some wore captured Army militia armour, and at least two wore a full set of carapace armour. This obsolete armour was still used by the Army, due to its ability to withstand heavy gunfire in full frontal assaults. It was slower to move in than marine armour and less useful in s
pace or on ships. In urban combat, where you could expect to find snipers and heavy explosions, it was the perfect equipment. Caladus wore just a carapace breastplate, more a combination of the armour worn in the renaissance and the gear worn by the marines. He had added a few markings and embellishments to give it a more flamboyant look. As he reached his unit, he slid into position next to Special Agent Johnson. The experienced officer finished speaking on his radio unit and rubbed the back of his hand on his face.

  “They are ready to start the attack on the perimeter walls. You realise that once they open fire the flares will go up, and we can expect air cover in a matter of minutes?”

  “I know. You just get us inside the barracks, and we’ll do the rest.”

  Almost a minute early, a volley of orange sparks erupted along the far side of the site from dozens of rifles. A streak of flame sent a guided rocket half a kilometre before it struck a parked Lightning fighter. The explosion was impressive and tore the aircraft into two large chunks. A line of dark shapes moved inside the perimeter of the base and commenced a substantial, albeit suicidal, assault on a dozen parked military aircraft and their crewmen. Two more aircraft burst into flames, and small arms tracer fire rattled in streaks across the spaceport.

  “What the hell?” Erdeniz shouted.

  Johnson was already on the radio and speaking furiously with the group of rebels they had spoken with previously. He turned back to Erdeniz with a confused expression on his face.

  “They haven’t started yet. It must be the other survivors going ahead with the attack.”

  “Great, they could screw this up. Get the others to move in now, and try and reach this new group. We don’t want any friendly fire.”

  Johnson continued speaking on the radio for several more seconds.

  “Okay, they are going in now. Let’s do this.”

  Captain Erdeniz looked behind him to see the grim but keen faces of his small command. It was a mixture of Confed fighters, mainly marines, but also a smattering of Navy and Army troops. All were armed, but few had much in the way of armour.

  “Ready?” he said quietly.

  Blasts of heavy gunfire tore across the spaceport as the second group did their best to create as much noise as possible. More rockets from both sides rushed across the flat, almost featureless ground.

  “Is your team ready?”

  Caladus nodded.

  “They’re waiting at the perimeter wall. Charges are set and heavy weapons in place.”

  “Good. Okay then, thirty seconds and we go in. Remember, we lack the numbers to fight them all. Get through the breach and then stick with your groups. One hits the barracks, and the other the control tower. Don’t stop for casualties. Just move fast, and shoot anything that moves.”

  The group nodded and followed their Captain along the narrow gully towards where four of Caladus’ fighters were waiting alongside the wall. The nearest lifted his hand to make them stop. It was a spot they had located just half an hour earlier. It was the only location that allowed them to move close enough to the wall without being seen. The only real concern was that there was a large open space on the other side that could become a terrible killing ground, if they were unable to clear it quickly enough.

  “This is it!” said Erdeniz.

  A great flash ripped a hole over four metres wide through the wall and sent dust and debris in all directions. One of the fighters was struck in the head by a chunk of damaged masonry and knocked to the ground. It didn’t look serious, but there wasn’t time to hang around and check. Captain Erdeniz lifted his rifle and called out to his party.

  “Now!”

  He moved through the breach first, closely followed by Johnson and the rest of the fighters. Though the hole was fairly large, it still took time for them to make it through. Only six made it before one of the Army soldiers, a rookie private who had escaped the Fort Hood massacre, stumbled and fell. It delayed them for just a few seconds, but it did split up the party.

  Captain Erdeniz rushed out of the smoke and spotted two guards staggering about, presumably shocked from the explosion. One had blood dripping from a wound on his forehead. Erdeniz lifted up his L48 rifles and sent a round towards each man. The semi-intelligent ammunition calculated the proximity to the target and exploded. The devices opened up a hole the size of a football in each of them, and they dropped lifelessly to the ground.

  “Keep moving!” he shouted without checking behind him. The six-man group fanned out and continued firing short busts at any enemy troops they encountered. Special Agent Johnson ducked to the right to avoid a rocket-propelled grenade that exploded impotently in the hard ground. Shards of masonry scattered about, but incredibly, nobody was hurt. He turned to check his men and noticed the enemy reinforcements rushing into prepared positions in front of the barracks. He looked back to see the next wave of his own forces emerging from the breach. They were sitting targets. He turned back to the enemy and fired a burst before rifle fire forced him back to cover.

  Almost as soon as the group emerged from the dust, they were hit by concentrated machine gunfire. Two of the lead marines were cut almost in half. The rest scattered to any cover they could locate and returned fire. The unfortunate Army private tried to take cover, but he was hit three times in the body and sent screaming to the ground.

  Erdeniz rolled behind a stack of empty barrels and peered over them to assess the situation. The machine gun nest was all that stood between them and the front of the barracks building. He looked back to see the still writhing body of the private. More bullets hit around him, but incredibly no more struck him. He looked over to Caladus who was busy taking careful aim with his own weapon.

  “Hit the nest!” he cried.

  It didn’t matter, three of Caladus’ men rushed forward carrying improvised satchel charges to try and deal with the problem. Two were struck down, but the third managed to throw one within two metres of the nest before being hit in the leg. He tumbled to the ground and disappeared behind a cloud of dust. As soon as the bag made contact, it exploded with a great roar. The blast was of a similar strength to that used by Caladus’ men at the wall. The sound was deafening at this range, but it did its job. The gunfire stopped as soon as it had started, and the ground in front of the buildings was clear once more.

  “Take the barracks!” shouted Erdeniz to Caladus. “Everybody else with me!”

  He moved out from cover and did a quick thermal scan of the area using the PDS suit’s built-in sensor suite. There might be movements around the barracks, as most of the troops were making their way to defend the perimeter around the aircraft and transports. He pushed on towards the control tower. The large structure was stationed roughly eighty metres further along the flat surface. The rest of the unit spread out into a thin line and advanced at his pace. The PDS armour was nothing like the kind of equipment used by the Vanguards or even the engineers. It was a closely fitted suit and provided life support, a sealed environment and basic protection against small arms. A sniper somewhere up high in the structure fired down, but the round simply bounced off the curved armour of the marines. A third shot finally managed to knock one to the ground, but he quickly lifted himself up and kept moving forward.

  Erdeniz spotted Agent Johnson moving off to the right as they approached the main doors. There was an emergency fire escape on the right-hand side, and he took two marines with him. Erdeniz moved up to the front door and off to the side. He peered through the thickened glass and could see what the situation was inside. He turned back to see most of his unit in position and waiting for his command. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the doors open. He heart almost stopped, for he half expected an explosive device of some kind to explode as he entered. Instead, four militiamen carrying cases from a side room met him.

  “Drop your weapons!” he shouted.

  The first man went instinctively to his sidearm fitted tightly into a holster on his thigh. Erdeniz didn’t hesitate and sent a large calibre projectile from his L
48 rifle into the man’s shoulder. He spun backwards and into the wall. More marines surged inside, and the militiamen quickly surrendered at the sight of the dirty and bloodied fighters. He didn’t wait and moved ahead, pushing through the lobby to the open space near the stairs and elevator. He signalled to two marines.

  “Secure this area, we’ll keep moving up.”

  He moved to the staircase, narrowly avoiding several bursts of automatic rifle fire. His suit was able to use acoustic range finding to pinpoint the danger and flag the area on his visor’s head-up display.

  “Two targets, forty degrees!” he shouted.

  Two marines leaned around the corner and released several proximity rounds into the danger zone. A dull crump sound was the only obvious response. Captain Erdeniz didn’t hesitate and pushed on up the stairs, his rifle at the ready. The thump of his armoured boots rang out on the open metal steps running up inside the structure. A few more seconds of running and he was on the next floor. Johnson and a handful of fighters were with him. They were all panting from exertion.

  The next floor was open plan and led to a number of computer terminals. A floor to ceiling glass window ran the full circumference of the structure. It gave the controllers a full view of the spaceport. A bright white light appeared, followed by one of his marines dropping to the ground, and a small hole burned through his visor. He scanned for the enemy and picked up heat from three people. They were all hiding behind a computer unit and were heavily armed. Erdeniz gritted his teeth and aimed his rifle slightly above their position.

  “Kill them all!” he shouted and loosed off seven rounds that quickly shattered the computer unit, glass and half the dividing wall. As the broken material dropped to the ground, there was quiet. Erdeniz took a breath. It was almost unreal. The tower was theirs, and they had sustained fewer casualties than expected. He tapped the comms button.

  “All units report in. The tower is under our control.”

  “Caladus here...” a long burst of gunfire drowned out the sound, “we’ve taken the barracks, hundreds of people here. Lots of military, arming them.”