Ghost Soldiers

by Michael G. Thomas

  Five-Seven twisted his head towards them both.

  “Contact from the Naval Station. Admiral Churchill sends his regards.”

  Khan and Spartan looked to each other, and Khan’s eyebrows rose in a disconcerting fashion.

  “Churchill? I thought Anderson was stationed there?” Khan asked.

  Spartan lifted his shoulders.

  “Obviously not. Isn’t Churchill commanding the T’Karan Fleet now?”

  Both of them looked at the view of the ships. At first it had seemed much the way it normally was, but then the list continued to grow. Spartan counted them off before turning to Khan and Captain Delatorre. The officer nodded towards ANS Warlord.”

  “According to the scans, this is the largest gathering of ships of the line since the Battle of the Black Rift.”

  He licked his lips as he listed them.

  “One heavy battleship, four Conqueror battlecruisers, fifteen Crusader heavy cruisers, and twenty Liberty destroyers.”

  He turned to Spartan.

  “Forty ships is quite a gathering. And that doesn’t include the thirty plus Auxiliary ships waiting at Sector Four.”

  Khan laughed.

  “Well, you’ve seen what’s happening on the Byotai border. If you ask me, that’s a war fleet destined to go to the border.”

  Five-Seven spoke again.

  “Admiral Churchill has put four Liberty class missile destroyers and a single Liberty class troop transport at our disposal, should you need them. He has also requested a company from the 24th Regiment, and they will arrive within the day.”

  Spartan grinned at the mention of the famous unit.

  “The Red Watch, huh?”

  Spartan rubbed his chin and glanced to Five-Seven.

  “Send our thanks, and pass on our mission details. Let’s make sure the Admiral is kept in the loop.”

  He looked away and then shook his head.

  “Scratch that, get him on the videostream. I want to speak with him.”

  Five-Seven looked away, and in a few more seconds the face of the Admiral appeared. A veteran of both wars, much like Khan and Spartan, he had seen just as much combat, perhaps even more.

  “Major Spartan, I never thought I’d see you back in this sector again.”

  “You’re not alone, Admiral. What’s happening out here? I thought Anderson still controlled this sector?”

  The Admiral looked a little suspicious as he considered his words.

  “You’ve seen the news. There’s trouble brewing, so Admiral Anderson is at a conference at Helios Prime. He will be back soon, though. AJNS is his home now, and quite a home it is."

  Spartan looked at the station on the mainscreen and nodded.

  "You could say that. This place has gone from an outpost to something inconceivable. The ships, though, this is not routine, is it? I know some of them, and a few are not usually sent this far from home."

  Again the Admiral considered his words. Spartan was back in the military, but the IAB was something odd. Though part of the same overall structure, they had independence, and in many ways had more in common with a private security force or a foreign legion. He was still coming to terms with the new unit, but Spartan was entitled to know what was happening up to a certain level, and he had no doubts as to Spartan's loyalty or abilities.

  "You're right. This is the home fleet from Terra Nova. They're here for manoeuvres with the T’Karan fleet based at this station. We’re going to be joined by the Helions and with some contingents from the Byotai.”

  Spartan did his best not to laugh.

  “Manoeuvres? They put you in charge of this?”

  A light flashed on the mainscreen, and the cameras altered their view to show the Spacebridge that led back to Prometheus. Three ships came through, and were then followed by a long column of civilian transports.

  “That’s a lot of ships,” said Khan.

  Admiral Churchill nodded.

  “Well, you know how it goes. Anyway, this is all part of the long-term strategy. You've seen the reports. With Makos on Karnak, nothing will end quickly. The Byotai are holding their own, and the Anicinàbe are not fully committed yet. If this turns to a full shooting war, it could last months, maybe years."

  Spartan sighed.

  "Shooting war? Trust me, Admiral. It's way past that."

  Admiral Churchill nodded in agreement.

  "This derelict of yours is more pressing at the moment. I had been assembling a team, but we’re weeks away from being able to assist. Is it true, can you be there in less than half a day?”

  “Six hours.”

  He tried to hide it, but the pride in Spartan’s voice was easy to spot. Admiral Churchill shook his head in amazement.

  “You’ve done incredible things at Taxxu. Your team has moved us along a generation, maybe more with this tech.”

  He leaned in closer to the camera.

  “Just do me a favour, Spartan. Don’t activate your engine anywhere near the station. I don’t think your reputation could come back after that!”

  Khan began to laugh, but Spartan seemed less than amused.

  “Understood, Admiral. We’ll be in touch within the day with news. Keep everything else out of the area until then.”

  The Admiral disconnected, and as before, the Alliance ship was alone. Captain Delatorre went back to his seat and turned to Five-Seven.

  “Move us into the designated launch position. It’s time.”

  Five-Seven acknowledged and turned back to his computer systems fitted around his chair. The ship was already thousands of kilometres from the station, but neither Spartan, nor the Navy officers on the base were taking chances. The technology used in IAS Euryale was experimental, and somewhat volatile. The last thing any of them would want was a tear in space-time next to the largest naval facility in the Alliance. The Admiral may have been joking, but there was some truth with regards to the engines.

  “We will be at the launch coordinates in seventy seconds.”

  Spartan turned his attention to the station for one last time, soaking in the details. Whenever he left Taxxu, he always came across such reminders of his past, even the name, the illustrious Admiral Jarvis, and hero of the human civil war more than two decades ago. He’d known her, and in the years since the Uprising, she had become something of a legendary character in the Alliance Navy. They continued moving to the launch location, using nothing more than their conventional engines. Great pulses of white marked the burning of fuel as they travelled at the same speed as most other ships.

  “Look, they are watching us,” said Captain Delatorre.

  Though formally in command, the Captain had left the basic operations of the ship to Five-Seven and his efficient crew of Thegns. He pointed to the left and then a few degrees away to another group. Spartan spotted the small shapes just after Khan. There were two groups of fighters, both made up of three spacecraft, and a fourth one much larger than the others.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Spartan asked.

  Khan strained to look at it, but the Captain seemed comfortable with what he could see.

  “That is a first for me. Those are a pair of XB49 Reapers, and three Lightning Mark II fighters are escorting them apiece. I’m amazed those things are still flying. But those new drones, incredible pieces of equipment.”

  Spartan smiled. He couldn’t remember the first time he’d seen them fly, but he had witnessed their combat ability both in space, and in the skies over several worlds.

  “They might be old, Captain, but they are still unsurpassed in their role. These birds went toe-to-toe with the best of the Biomechs’ fighters and came out on top.”

  “True. But the Reaper moved things up to a whole new level. One Reaper package can handle an entire squadron.”

  “In theory.”

  Spartan knew the weapon system, even though he’d never actually seen one in the flesh before. Technically a support drone fighter, but in reality they were a very heavily armed, up sca
led Avenger drone. Rather than being involved in direct action, they were designed to function as shared weapon platforms for use by other networked craft. An alert indicator flashed, and Captain Delatorre looked to Spartan.

  “Major, all systems are ready. We have clearance from the AJNS to proceed.”

  Spartan seemed a little apprehensive before finally giving the order.

  “Very well. Let’s get going. It’s time to move to a safe area.”

  As before, the procedure for activating the interstellar engines was something of a letdown. There was no mass acceleration or changing forces of acceleration. Instead, the huge ring at the rear of the ship created a bubble of warped space around the vessel. They watched the view on the mainscreen as the ship accelerated away. It was gone in seconds. Moments later the view changed to point directly ahead. Stars moved slowly as they travelled just below the speed of light. Five-Seven checked in with his stations before giving the all clear.

  “We are on the way to the target. ETA, six point one hours.”

  “Very good,” replied Spartan, “Khan, it’s time to get the team ready. I want 2nd Platoon as a boarding party with full assault gear and weapons. They need to be prepped and loaded on the operations deck. 3rd Platoon will be on standby and under your command.”

  “What about you?”

  Spartan smiled.

  “Grunts first, Captain. Let’s see what we find.”

  It was the first time Spartan had used Khan’s new rank, and he seemed to find it amusing. Khan gave him a mock salute back, and then made for the exit from the deck.

  “I’ll meet you below, Major.”

  * * *

  IAS Euryale, Sector Sixteen, T’Karan

  "Ten seconds, Captain," said Five-Seven.

  Captain Delatorre took in a short breath and moved back to his chair. It was a strange thing to do, but when the engines were cut, they were more likely to need the seating than when using the Interstellar Drive, a system that allowed them to travel through space without moving. He activated the intercom, and it made a squawk sound throughout the entire ship.

  "Dropping back to conventional speed in five seconds."

  Every single person on the ship tensed as the last few seconds ticked by until finally the ship deactivated its Interstellar Drive, and in an instant it turned into a conventional starship; one that was little different to any other plying the shipping lanes in the Alliance. The only visible indication anything had changed was that the pulsing light between the pair of large ringed nacelles stopped. One moment the ship had been moving vast distances at near light-speed, and then it was back to its standard speed, and no different to any other vessel. Captain Delatorre activated the internal intercom again.

  “Major, we have arrived.”

  His voice was matter-of-fact, but there was a clear degree of relief to his tone. The mysteries of the Interstellar Drive were complex enough for most engineers, but to the officers of the ship, it was a deadly new piece of equipment. Few outside of CTC knew of the failed experiments that had seen three drone test subjects torn apart, and another had vanished entirely, never to be seen again. The strangest of all was the largest of all the prototypes. The moment its engines had been activated, it vanished inside its bubble, invisible to all sensors. Yet upon investigation, the ship was still there but trapped in the one place. Buoys had been placed, and the area of space around it put into effective quarantine ever since. Spartan was already on his way and marched onto the deck just a few seconds after the Captain had finished speaking.

  "Major?"

  Spartan kept moving until he was alongside the Captain and Five-Seven, both of whom sat in their tall seats in the centre of the command deck.

  "Good work, damned good work," said Spartan.

  Unlike the crew, Spartan wore his full M-3B tactical armour. It was similar in design to the existing PDS armour used in the Marine Corps, but there were some very obvious changes, ones based on the latest advanced from the Special Weapons Division. Reinforced banding was positioned at key areas to protect the chest, upper limbs, and thighs. Tiny discs, more like grey dots, were positioned at key intervals along the armour. They were barely visible, yet provided the critical link between the suit and the heavy equipment being developed by the Special Weapons Division. Then came the last and most obvious difference, the lab-grown outer skin, something developed in conjunction with On'Sarax; Thegn outer skin giving similar protection to normal armour, yet could repair itself over a matter of hours.

  "Where are we?"

  Captain Delatorre moved the map to the side of the mainscreen. On one side it had a marker showing Admiral Jarvis Naval Station. It was impossible to see at a distance of more than seven billion kilometres away. The thing that put a cold lump in Spartan's chest was that the station was the nearest object this far out.

  Space really is a cold, murderous place.

  Green shapes flashed as the computer outlined them in the darkness. This far out it was impossible to see a nearby object unless it was lit in some way. There were scores of items in the vicinity of the ship, but the single massive structure instantly mapped to the data received from ANS Orion.

  "Good work, you brought us right onto the objective marker. Perfect."

  He had no doubt they would have made it, especially with Euryale, but with such a long trip and so far from friendly vessels, there was always a moment of doubt at the back of his mind. They could survive for over three months on their own, perhaps longer if part of the crew was put into sleep hibernation.

  Khan moved onto the deck, Lieutenant Armstrong at his side.

  "Well? What happened?"

  While the young officer wore similar armour to Spartan, Khan was something else entirely. He was a monster compared to the other crew, but his JAS armour made him even bulkier. It fitted closely to his skin, yet still pushed him up to the size of the Maverick armour system. Retractable blades rested on the arms, and the weapon systems sat impotently on the outer mounts. It was a bizarre mixture of high-tech and primitive combined into a fighting suit. Captain Delatorre looked at him in surprise. He might have respected the combat potential of Khan and his kin, but he had little respect for them as a race.

  "You're planning on going somewhere? I thought this was specifically a drone operation?"

  Khan hissed back through his teeth.

  "Drones are good, but nothing beats eyes on the target. In any case, we'll be ready, just in case. You don't want to be in your civvies in the middle of a crisis."

  He looked at Spartan and struck him on the shoulder.

  "Right, Major?"

  Khan then glanced over to the other crew.

  "At least we made it. I told you she was the ship for us."

  Spartan sighed. IAS Euryale had earned something of a reputation in the fledgling IAB, based primarily upon her perceived performance when compared to the other two ships in her class. New Carlos was still incomplete, and Titan had suffered three breakdowns in as many months, much of which attributed to the substantial damage sustained over Karnak. Worse than any issue or breakdowns was the fact Titan had collided with a Liberty class destroyer just two months earlier. This incident occurred when her manoeuvring thrusters had malfunctioned. It didn't take much to earn a ship the unlucky moniker, and her reputation had now managed to reach some parts of the public press.

  Five-Seven altered the mainscreen to show the view of the derelict. Captain Delatorre shook his head and pointed. The scanners had already located signs of recent damage where multiple projectiles had torn apart some of the outer layers of the hull.

  “It would appear we have arrived late. There was definitely a battle out here. The derelict is in a worse state than the imagery we received."

  He turned away from the display and towards Spartan, whose helmet was open, and his face visible as he looked at the imagery.

  "Something happened out here, and the Alliance ship was destroyed. We need to be careful."

  Spartan nodded in agre
ement. “Yes."

  Five-Seven moved his hands and adjusted the view to show a group of objects moving closer to the vessel. He glanced at Spartan.

  "Reconnaissance drones are now in the area. Activating lighting.”

  White and dull yellow shapes appeared as the incredibly powerful lamps shone out to the vessel. Those further away provided a low level of ambient light, the closer ones moved about in a search pattern to examine every nook and cranny. Captain Delatorre changed the display to show both the live view, as well as the computer model that combined radar cross-section scans with the lit detail. Every few seconds the shapes increased in detail as a high-resolution map was created before their eyes. Spartan leaned in closer, scrutinising the details.

  "The derelict is not quite as it appeared on the last transmission. Look at the surface damage and all of this expelled debris."

  Captain Delatorre seemed to agree.

  "Yes, it looks like she took a beating from multiple volleys."

  He pointed to three key areas.

  "Notice the pattern? That's quadruple cannon fire. The gun turrets of a Liberty class destroyer would match that perfectly."

  He leaned back and sighed.

  "ANS Orion fought back and hit these sections with gunfire."

  He then moved the image along and pointed to the areas of debris.

  "This is where the missiles impacted. Orion may be gone, but they put out a lot of fire in this engagement."

  Spartan seemed disappointed.

  "Yes, but how was a modern Alliance warship beaten by a derelict hulk of junk? Just look at it."

  Khan shook his head in irritation.

  "I've seen Liberty ships take on warships twice their size, and for a long time. They are tough and reliable. And Orion was a missile destroyer, perfectly built to destroy ships at range."

  Spartan nodded.

  "Quite. This derelict is as big as expected, but the condition is terrible. I know the data we received suggested it was old, but this thing looks like a floating scrapyard, but the size of a city."

  Captain Delatorre pressed a button and brought up a projection of ANS Orion.