Star Crusades Uprising: The Second Trilogy

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Star Crusades Uprising: The Second Trilogy Page 84

by Michael G. Thomas


  Flashes ripped through General Rivers’ PDS suit as the incendiary rounds fired by the enemy tore into the plating. His helmet and visor were badly scorched and cracked but not enough to stop him spotting the movement in the jungle. Another round struck him in the shoulder and pinned him to the wall. The suit pumped drugs directly into his bloodstream as well as flooding the interior with a gas based clotting agent. With a supreme effort, he lifted himself up to a seating position and drew the secondary sidearm from the mounting on his leg. It was nothing more than the marine issue pistol, but it kept him in the fight.

  “Stop them!” shouted an unseen marine before four Biomechs stormed through the frontline and into their defences. He took aim at the closest and squeezed the trigger. In a blur, a shape leapt from the jungle and smashed into the flank of the Biomech. He shook his head, but his vision was already fading out from blood loss. He strained his eyes once more but couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  Biomechs...on our side?

  * * *

  Kowalski was almost finished setting the thermite charges around the supporting pillars and walls surrounding the orb. Spartan had wanted to destroy the computers, but Kowalski’s suggestion was to try and barricade the entire area off while causing more substantial damage. The charges themselves were highly powerful and capable of burning through even the toughest armour or structures. He had taken up position behind one of the pillars in the hope of avoiding being spotted, but it was pointless. They must have been seen on their way in, and the group on the higher ledge were still busy talking. From down below, the legions of the enemy were moving towards where he and Kowalski waited.

  “Come on, man, they’ll be here in half a minute!”

  Kowalski connected one last part to the bomb and hit the timer sequence. It started counting down as soon as he released his finger.

  “Okay, done, let’s get out of here!”

  The two moved to the orb and not a moment too soon. A great roar like that of a screaming banshee echoed through the chamber, and each of the creatures and machines paused as the large mechanical monster lifted itself out from the lower level and towards the orb. Simultaneously, the power surging into the glowing ball increased, and the size of the orb doubled in an instant.

  “Stop them!” screamed the man up on the ledge.

  “Pontus, you asshole!” shouted Spartan, and he loosed off a short burst at the man before Kowalski pushed him into the orb. His last view was of the rounds smashing around the men, but he had no idea what was going on, or if he had hit any of them. As quickly as they had arrived, and he was back in the moist, blood soaked interior of the dome. It was like a scene from hell itself as marines, Biomechs, Vanguards and even unarmed civilians fought at close range. Bodies littered the site, and he had barely any idea who was friend or foe.

  “Watch it!” shouted Kowalski as a blade slammed into Spartan’s helmet and added yet another large crack in the thickened glass. He lifted up his armoured arms just like a boxer that was covering up in a fight and deflected as many blows as he possibly could.

  “This is Captain Spartan to all Alliance forces. The dome is about to blow. Fall back to the tree line. I repeat, all Alliance forces withdrawal, now!”

  He charged at the nearest group of machines, and the small number of survivors inside joined him in one desperate charge from out of the complex. He spotted Khan and a group of a dozen Biomechs hacking and stabbing at one of the four-legged machines they had somehow tipped onto its side while marines fired at a distant group of Zealots who were falling back to the cover of the ruins. A small group of marines were pinned down near the outside of the dome by the gunfire of the last remaining upright machine. Its heavy pintle mounted guns blasted at them and kept them down. One of them was Teresa.

  “Everybody out! It’s going to blow!” screamed Spartan through both his intercom and the fitted loudhailers on his Vanguard suit. Most of those that could move were already falling back, but the vicious melee made coordinated action almost impossible. He turned back and hacked his way through anybody or any thing that stood in his path. That was when the roof of the dome stated to lift, and the enemy reinforcements rushed out like water falling over a cliff. Even as the stream of machines and Biomechs turned the tide against them, a much more terrifying threat appeared. The great mechanical beast, the very essence and form of Echidna herself filled the light with its darkened silhouette.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The new colonies of Epsilon Eridani, Gliese 876 and Procyon became part of the first wave of colonial expansion following the end of the War. With the resources of the newly founded Alliance, and the technological leaps brought about from that war, these new colonies would increase the wealth, population and importance of the more remote parts of the Alliance. The five star systems would become the core of humanity’s greatest empire in history.

  The New Colonies

  Spartan reached the pinned down marines at the same time as a large calibre projectile slammed into his armoured leg and jammed the knee joint. He twisted and fell, landing just three metres from Teresa and the handful of their team still remaining. He tried to call out to her, but most of his systems were now failing. With the electronics gone, he lost the ability to use the communications or mechanics of the suit. He punched the eject button, and with a hiss the suit opened up like a clam. He stumbled forward and dropped to the floor. Without the protection of the suit, he was left with his Alliance overalls and thin body armour as used by most crew. His only weapon was his pistol, which he pulled out and raised to face the machine.

  “Fall back!” shouted Captain Carlos as he broke from cover and led a party of about a dozen marines towards the jungle tree line. Lines of yellow and white tracers hit around them, and at least three rounds struck the Captain before an explosion threw him through the air and to the ground. His team tried to pull him to safety, but two more casualties forced them to break and run.

  “Spartan!” called out a bloodied and wounded Teresa.

  A line of bullet impacts marked the armour on her right leg, and blood covered her chest and left arm. He took careful aim at the machine, pulled the trigger, only for the entire machine to explode and spread shards of debris across the battlefield. A flight of Alliance Lightning MKII fighters passed overhead and split up to circle over the battlefield. Right behind them came six shuttles, and behind them another two landing craft, and all of them heading for the open ground near the wounded General Rivers.

  “Keep your head down, Spartan!” shouted Kowalski even though he couldn’t see the marine anywhere near him.

  He threw himself as low as he could and put his arm over his face to protect himself from flying debris. A massive blast ripped the ground behind them, and he twisted around to see the bright flash around the orb and the huge mechanical machine moving through. Flames and blue flashes ripped from all directions, and then as quickly as it started, the dome structure vanished below a heap of dust and rubble. Another shuttle swept down and landed a little closer, but a rocket struck it as it landed. Luckily, the impact did little more than blow a metre-wide hole in its wing. The doors opened and out jumped a full squad of heavily armed and armoured Jötnar troopers.

  Two more Thunderbolts strafed the ground and created a path of destruction in the enemy ranks so that one of the large landing craft could land. Even as it moved in, the many door gunner mounts fired at anybody foolish enough to stay near. The loading ramps dropped down and scores of Alliance marines charged out, and each keen for action, itching to bring down the enemy as fast as possible.

  As the battle raged, Spartan pulled himself closer to Teresa and pulled open her visor. Her face was anguished, but she was conscious and her face still had colour.

  “How are you?” he asked, trying his best to not sound too worried.

  Another landing craft came down and disgorged scores more troops into the fray. With the dome destroyed, the surviving machines slowed and shutdown one at a time until the only en
emy forces remaining were the Biomechs and the Zealots. A small group of Zealots broke from the battle and charged at the fallen ASOG troopers. Spartan turned his handgun onto the first, but it took all of his remaining ammunition to bring him to the ground. Six more almost made it before Ko’mandor Gun and his retinue of Jötnar cut them apart with a long burst of gunfire. The leader of the creatures nodded to Spartan and then moved over to Khan who was busy hacking down a large group of enemy Biomechs who refused to retreat.

  “I need a rest,” muttered Spartan as he pulled himself up next to Teresa and watched Major Daniels’ reinforcements mop up the last survivors. It was short and bloody, but in just a few minutes, the enemy were in full retreat and rushing to the hills or the jungle to escape.

  * * *

  “Are you ready?” asked Major Daniels as he looked at Teresa and Spartan. Both of them wore their off-duty fatigues as well as a number of low profile bandages over their numerous light wounds. It was a far cry from the battered and smashed armour they had been wearing a week earlier. She looked at him and smiled. Stood beside them was Kowalski, who somehow had managed to avoid any serious injury.

  “Come on, then,” he said and then stepped inside the main briefing room of ANS Santa Cruz. Scores of Alliance crew and civilians were packed inside and waiting patiently for them to enter. At the far end, he spotted General Rivers, as well as Major Daniels and a small group of Jötnar. They moved down the narrow strip and were followed by a small band of the other injured as they made their way down the podium. Spartan saw Sergeant Lovett to his right where he waited with his fiancée. Other faces he recognised, but there were many from colonies and ships he’d never taken a step aboard before. The audience brought their hands together as they reached the halfway mark. It was the first such ceremony Spartan had attended, and even after all his battles, it seemed odd to be there.

  “I introduce to you the leaders of our newly formed Alliance Special Operations Group under the command of Major Daniels. These elite teams have been at the forefront of our continuing battle against those that seek to destroy our way of life.”

  Major Daniels reached the podium first and moved up the steps to stand next to the assembled senior commanders. Admiral Churchill was present, along with a number of the ship commanders from the rest of the Taskforce. Admiral Churchill and General Rivers both shook his hand before indicating for him to take up his spot. Spartan and Teresa, on the other hand, were moved to the side where everybody could see them. General Rivers nodded to them both and then looked to the crowd.

  “Captain Spartan and Sergeant Morato epitomise the skill, bravery and sacrifice of all those that have fought for our freedoms in the last years. They both joined the Marine Corps under unusual circumstances, and yet have become masters in their own right. After scores of battles and combat on a dozen worlds, they made it here and working in different fleets. Their actions on Hyperion, and those of the men and women that worked alongside them, have brought honour to the Alliance. He stepped forward and pinned a star shaped medal on the chest of each of them.

  “These medals were the last of the Confederate Marine Corps medals to be cast before the start of the War, and I am proud to award them to two of our most important marines.”

  He waited for a little while longer before adding one last point.

  “I know both of you will argue, but this comes right from the top. The two of you will be taking a much-needed break from the military. You are granted a month’s leave, and the requirement to continue your enlistment is hereby revoked. If you stay, it will be as volunteers.”

  While the crowd cheered, he saluted them both and indicated for Ko’mandor Gun to step closer. The Jötnar leader looked a little uncertain at the attention.

  “Commander,” he started. “I was going to inform you of this news in private, but I think everybody here would like to hear it. I have received word from the Senate back on Terra Nova, regarding the status of Biomechs and Jötnar in the Alliance.”

  He pulled out a datapad and held it in front of him to speak.

  “As of eighteen-hundred hours today, Terra Nova Time, the Jötnar have been granted full and equal citizenship in the Alliance.”

  The hall burst into shouts and applause, much to the surprise of the officers waiting around the podium. Gun himself seemed staggered by the announcement and took several seconds before lifting his right arm in the air and shouting to the ceiling.

  “It would appear that videofeeds of the battle at the dome have been distributed throughout the Alliance by sources unknown in our fleet.”

  He looked about, but it was clear he favoured the leak.

  I bet it was you. Spartan thought wryly as he watched the General.

  “Oh, and there is one other thing. The world of Hyperion is not an easy place to live. It is dangerous, has a painful environment for most of us, and is still the home to a large number of escaped Zealots and indoctrinated Biomechs. You have been offered the world as a homeland, if you wish it. This is being offered to you partly in recognition of your great achievements, but also your great sacrifices on behalf of the Alliance.”

  The cheering started again, and Spartan stepped up to his old friend and grabbed his arm. The two looked out to the assembled troops and civilians, and for the first time there were joyous faces on those looking into the eyes of the synthetic creatures, assembled and training on the fire world of Prometheus. Spartan smiled at the good news but deep down he felt uneasy.

  Why do I think the Jötnar are being given Hyperion to act as sentries in case those things manage to find a way back to that orb?

  Teresa looked to him while the others continued to celebrate. She leaned over a few inches and spoke into his ear.

  “Vacation? Where do you want to go?”

  Spartan looked at her and smiled. It seemed like it had been years, perhaps decades, since he’d had free time where had absolutely nothing to do. For the first time he looked ahead to the future, and there was nothing in front of him that had to be done. For others that might have sounded wonderful, to Spartan though it was the exact opposite. Teresa looked at him and recognised the confusion and wanderlust she’d seen in his eyes many times before. He could see she was waiting patiently for an answer.

  “Well, I suppose we could spend some time on Terra Nova. It’s supposed to be the oldest and most refined place in the Alliance.”

  Teresa cocked her head slightly in amusement.

  “You, sightseeing on Terra Nova? I was thinking of something a little more adventurous, but I would like to spend some time with our son and my family. I’ve already spoken to Major Daniels about that, and he says he will do his best to arrange for them to visit us as soon as possible.”

  Gun heard their conversation and stepped towards them, placing his bulk in the way of their conversation. He looked at each of them.

  “I’m planning on setting up hunting parties back on Hyperion. There are still a few religious maniacs and wild Biomechs that need taming. Interested?”

  Spartan’s face seemed to light up at the news, and Teresa new instantly that their vacation was going to consist of hiding out in a mud-infested jungle filled with things that wanted to kill them. She smiled back at him.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

  * * *

  Agent Johnson and two of his fellow interrogators from Kerberos looked back at the prisoner strapped to the table. The room was darkly lit, and on one side was a glossy wall that hid a two-way mirror behind which sat a dozen intelligence officers. He looked back to the man on the table and glanced at the scars on his cheek.

  “I’ve already told you we know who you are, Chraige Attez. Your brother Typhon died on this very world, and your other brother, Pontus, is dead on Hyperion. Now tell me, why did we find workers from the Bone Mill amongst the dead at your compound on Hyperion?”

  The man looked back at him with nothing but hate and contempt on his face.

  “I see, you think that look scares m
e?”

  Chraige Attez coughed and then smiled at Agent Johnson.

  “You think you’ve won? This is nothing. Echidna has woken, and she will return. Nothing can stop her.”

  Agent Johnson moved away and tapped a button to bring up a large image of the ruins on Hyperion, specifically the crater that was all that remained of the dome and the orb. Unexpectedly, there was no chamber of elevator around it. Next to the image he brought up the shape of the Anomaly, the great Spacebridge discovered towards the end of the War. Lastly, he brought up the devastated underground facility on Prime that had marked the start of the War. He looked at it for a short while before turning back to Chraige Attez.

  “Your great saviour, the mechanical beast that tried to come through that dome, is gone. What I want to know is what links the now ruined sites on these colonies and the Spacebridge here?”

  Chraige Attez laughed at him, enjoying the man’s apparent confusion.

  “They are nothing!” he spat out, “Echidna can travel wherever she wants, in space or on the ground, and when she returns, you will all pay, every single one of you!”

  Agent Johnson looked at the reflective mirror surface and raised an eyebrow before looking back to the prisoner. He walked back and continued his discussion. On the other side of the glass, the assembled men and women checked the information Agent Johnson and a dozen other intelligence assets had pooled together so far. Each of them wore dark, non-descript uniforms, and the classic mark of the military intelligence division. One woman, a tall, pale skinned woman nodded and tapped a button that brought up a live feed. It was Commander Anderson, the man in charge of Prometheus. The world housed factories, research labs and shipyards that had been reclaimed from the defeated enemy.

  “Commander. We have confirmed the materials used at the three sites match the configuration of the artefact you have uncovered on Prometheus. Continue your excavation.”

 

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