Star Crusades Nexus: The Third Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

  “We need to reach those we can help the fastest. We’ll take the weapon, docklands, and this fortified region to the south first. We’ll need secured landing grounds to control these areas, fast.”

  A dull groan vibrated through the hull as the retro engines burned and began the final deceleration prior to reaching a combat altitude. In less than a minute, the ship had halved its speed and still it continued downwards.

  “Gunnery system is armed and ready, General.”

  He lifted his hand to his mouth and looked back to the tactical screen. The ships remaining in orbit were already engaging Biomech warships, but it was the large force under Anderson that concerned him. The icon representing ANS Explorer showed it had finished deploying, and scores of heavy warships were waiting nearby. He also noticed that Spartan’s contingent was still there.

  “General, I see you’re in the thick of things, as usual.”

  He looked to his right and smiled as the form of Colonel Morato walked into the CIC.

  “Teresa, I thought you had transferred before we began the descent. What about Spartan?”

  She looked uncomfortable at his question.

  “I assume he is with Khan? Those two are inseparable.”

  Teresa raised one eyebrow and then nodded in agreement.

  “He’s going with Anderson and the others to the Black Rift.”

  General Rivers appeared to find this intriguing.

  “Yet you are here, why?”

  He realized why before she could answer.

  “Ah, Jack. I understand.”

  One of the Marine liaison officers approached, and he took a moment to explain exactly where he wanted his landing parties before turning back to Teresa.

  “We must deal with Helios Prime first, but I have already sent orders for a force to take the Rift control station to Spascia. If we’re lucky, we might be able to reactivate the Spacebridge and send them help.”

  “And if we can’t?” she asked calmly, even though her heart was pounding inside.

  “If we can’t, then we’ll get there the old fashioned way.”

  “That could take weeks.”

  He nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, you’re right. So the quicker we secure Helios Prime, the better.”

  “I know this world well. Let me help you.”

  General Rivers knew that only too well, and they quickly went to work at the tactical display. Both quickly identified the strongpoints of both sides and diverted forces and air cover where they were needed. As they arranged for the landing of thousands of marines, he looked back to her.

  “You understand that if Anderson and his forces fail at the Black Rift, this entire effort will be in vain? Your son can only be helped if Anderson succeeds.”

  “I know, General. That’s why Spartan is there. I couldn’t leave Jack alone, though. With Spartan at the Rift, and me doing what I can here, we’ll be giving him the best possible chance.”

  General Rivers touched her arm, and his face almost seemed to soften in sympathy.

  “Teresa, with the two of us plotting this battle, we have the best chance we could ever have.”

  He looked to the map and then back to her once more.

  “Spartan is a great man and an even greater warrior. He’s not the greatest strategist, though. Leave him to help in whatever bloodbath is coming to that Rift. I can promise you this; he will extract one hell of a toll in blood from them.”

  * * *

  ANS New Carlos, Old Spascia City

  Commodore Hampel tried to open his eyes and instantly felt the sting of pain in his right eyebrow. He forced them open and found warm air pushing through the broken visor on his helmet. He hadn’t even noticed the thing on his head, but the broken material on the edges clearly showed where the transparent visor had once been.

  When the hell did I even put this damned thing on?

  He lifted his right hand and found the thinly armored glove was missing, and his hand lacerated in multiple parts. He moved it to his face and touched his cheek, half expecting to find blood and gore. The stinging pain was a relief, if nothing else.

  I’m alive, that’s a start.

  The naval version of the PDS armor was similar to that used by the marines but lacked the protective qualities of that combat gear. This suit was designed to provide a sealed suit for EVA work and evacuation in emergency situations. One additional benefit was that all naval clothing was heat and flash protected, a critical requirement to uniforms and clothing aboard warships. It was a lesson learned hard back in the Great War.

  “Sir, can you move?” asked a familiar voice.

  He looked up into the dust-covered helmet of another crewman. The visor lifted up and revealed the face of his executive officer.

  “Lieutenant Morgan.”

  He coughed, and the pain sent red spasms of pain through his back.

  “It’s good to see you.”

  The younger officer looked up to the sky and pointed.

  “General Rivers is here with the fleet. Look.”

  He turned his attention upwards and watched as scores of large shapes dropped down like a meteor shower. Many more fighters swirled about in a deadly battle that saw one after the other tumbling down in flames. He looked back down and around him. The ground looked like a mall of some kind. Every floor had been shattered, yet a number of staircases partially remained, and crew in their PDS armor sheltered behind whatever cover they could find. Further away moved the massive shapes of Eques walkers. He’d seen imagery of them before, but never in these kinds of numbers. He spotted at least thirty in just this one area, and each of them poured fire down into the positions held by his crew. He tried to stand and felt a dizzying spasm through his body.

  “No, Sir, you need to stay here,” said Lieutenant Morgan.

  She leaned in closer and pointed in the direction of the machines.

  “We landed right in the middle of the dockland assault. There are three Marine units plus a single NHA company trying to defend thirty city blocks.”

  A rocket screamed overhead and vanished far into the distance. It was followed by a mechanical howl and scream, something he had never heard of before.

  “What’s that?”

  His XO shook her head.

  “New to me, Sir. It must be a rallying call or something for their troops.”

  “Lieutenant!” called out a crewman who was hiding next to the broken staircase.

  She looked back and spotted him and three others taking aim at a squad of Thegns inching their way up the ruined street. Eques walkers had moved in behind them, and their turrets were moving back and forth as they searched for targets. Something moved off to the right, and three of the walkers blasted it with hundreds of rounds.

  “Hold your fire, and keep your heads down!”

  More noise came from behind them, and she spun about, her sidearm raised and pointing directly at the face of a battered-looking Alliance marine. Four more appeared, each in an even worse state than the rest.

  “There’s an assembly beacon at the transit complex. It’s the bastion for this zone. This place has less than a minute before they overrun the place. You coming with us?”

  She looked down at Commodore Hampel. With a great effort he lifted himself to his feet, even though the effort almost caused him to pass out.

  “How many of you are at this bastion?”

  The marine shrugged.

  “No way to tell, Sir. I do know that General Rivers is sending reinforcements to that exact spot though, fresh troops, machines, and supplies. It’s got to be worth a shot.”

  The machines fired again, and this time the sound was considerably louder.

  “You’re right there, marine. Let’s go.”

  With just a single word from his XO, the survivors of the Alliance warship abandoned their positions and followed the marines through the winding chasms and chambers of the broken city. Only Commodore Hampel bothered to look back once they reached a safe distance. H
e hadn’t even noticed the remains of the ship while they had been so close. At this greater distance, he could make out the broken spine of the Liberty destroyer. There were twenty or more fires burning throughout the hull, and sections of the aft were scattered over a wide area. He spotted movement, and then a single Eques walker appeared in the middle of the wreckage. It kicked at the broken metal and then blasted away inside at unseen targets.

  “Bastards!” he muttered.

  Without thinking, he reached down for his sidearm. A hand stopped him and pulled his arm back.

  “No, Sir, we can’t help them now. We got out everybody we could; those left were trapped inside or too badly wounded to move. The machines are finishing off anybody they can find.”

  He shook his head and tried to grab for the gun again.

  “What about prisoners? You know they take them to use in their machines.”

  Lieutenant Morgan shook her head in disagreement.

  “No, Sir, that’s not what’s going to happen here. They aren’t here to mobilize numbers for their war machine. This is a full-scale assault. Just look at them.”

  He did just that and almost had to avert his eyes when he saw the myriad of Decurions clambering all over the wreckage. Even at this distance, he could see them stripping the broken vessel to get inside. Lieutenant Morgan placed his arm over her shoulder and helped him continue their movement to the bastion.

  “Sir, there’s nothing we could do for them. All we can do is save what’s left. This battle won’t be over today. They’ve got entire armies on the surface already. The war for this place is only just starting.”

  They continued forward over the barren and desolate surface of what had been the jewel of the Helion League. Just months before it had been a planet filled with towers, a beacon of success and civilization. Now it was another burned out husk, like so many planets that had fallen before the machines of the Biomechs. The battle for dominance continued with mainly fighters on both sides engaging in a perpetual dogfight. Every few minutes one of them would break free and rush down to strafe ground targets. It took nearly twenty minutes to cover the ground from the crash site to the outer defenses of what was now known as the bastion. The position was actually one of the many transport hubs that had suffered during the bombardment. Many wide highways and rail routes ran through or nearby, and all had been taken over by Alliance and NHA troops.

  “Wow,” said Lieutenant Morgan.

  If it hadn’t been for the raging sky battle, they might have stopped. Instead, they pushed on while soaking in what was happening around them. Dozens of fresh Bulldogs were moving out into new positions, while entire columns of Vanguards ran off in half a dozen directions. Even more regular marines moved weapons systems and equipment into positions. A Liberty class destroyer sat impotently on a blast cleared landing field. It was one of the transport-configured models, with its three mission bays given over to troops and equipment. Squad after squad ran down ramps and toward their deployment zones.

  “This is much more like it,” said Commodore Hampel.

  His voice was much weaker, but the sight of so much Marine equipment and manpower seemed to calm him. Lieutenant Morgan checked the status indicators on the collar readout of his helmet and then looked ahead to the fresh marines. The Commodore dropped to one knee, groaned, and fell to the floor. Lieutenant Morgan tried to stop him, but his weight, combined with the surprise of him falling, left it too late.

  “Medic! I need urgent medical attention, now!”

  She dropped down alongside him, and a pair of cannon rounds whisked overhead, slamming into a fast moving Bulldog. The armored vehicle flipped over and crashed into a wall. Incredibly, the vehicle didn’t explode or catch fire, and marines quickly arrived to drag the shocked and wounded men and women from the wreckage.

  * * *

  A small number of Biomech transports and two Ravagers were all that defended low-orbit at the point selected by General Rivers. Both of the two capital ships were torn apart by the concentrated gunfire of the first twenty-two Liberty destroyers as the fleet screamed down from orbit. Lines after lines of turret fire tore holes through the Biomech ships while the following Crusaders blasted them apart with their own guns. It was a savage and bloody opening to the Battle for Helios. The enemy was not slow in responding, however, and once ships had deposited their Biomech infantry, they quickly turned around and formed defensive squadrons to counter the new arrivals. Hundreds of Biomech fighters were forced to abandon their attack runs on the surface and turned their attention to the ships coming down from orbit.

  A myriad of vessels cascaded down from space, their engines and weapons filling the skies with heat, light, and flame. More than fifteen separate groups arced downwards toward their preselected targets. These vessels had been waiting a long time for this battle, and now everything appeared to hinge on a tight timeframe. Some had reached the assembly point just hours before, but many had been there days or even weeks. A large contingent had also been present under the command of Admiral Anderson when it had assisted in the destruction of Biomech forces making for T’Karan. Now that core of seasoned and experienced vessels provided the heart of the force making for the surface.

  Most of these groups of ships were aimed directly at the known hiding places for Marine Corps and NHA units. Some of these units were still in contact with High Command, but many had been forced to go into hiding since the Biomech invasion had begun. A few of these massive assault groups were also sent directly at the enemy’s own landing grounds where they continued to disgorge troops into the fray. General Rivers and Colonel Morato, of course, led the single biggest formation. This included the bulk of the force’s Vanguards plus the most experienced Marine Corps units assembled for Operation Citadel. They made directly for the site of the Planetary Defense Installation in a massed spearhead formation.

  The majority of the Alliance infantry transports and assault ships continued in their falling orbit over Helios Prime. It took a number of minutes to move through the upper atmosphere, and the heat from the high-speed descent would easily burn off any obtrusions on ships’ hulls. Once down and slowing down, the ships began deploying their descent hardware. For most, this involved the extending of low-level flaps and control surface while for others a number of heat-proofed veins would extend out to help reduce the speed and increase control in an atmosphere.

  A single Liberty Destroyer lost an entire mission module and an engine, as minor damage to its hull allowed super-heated gases to rush inside and melt apart a series of bulkheads. The ship shuddered and twisted and then flipped about under the massive stresses. What remained of the shattered vessel spun about; flames rushing from every direction. It was a bloodthirsty and tragic start to the assault, but nothing was stopping the attack, not even the natural power of Helios Prime.

  A smaller number of frigates and warships stayed in orbit and made for the remaining Biomech ships that had formed a defensive cordon. Both sides were roughly matched, but there was one major difference. The Alliance already had what remained of Admiral Lewis’ fleet in combat, and this meant for the first time the Biomechs lacked air superiority.

  The largest ship in the formation was the venerable ANS Ticonderoga, a Conqueror class Battlecruiser that had been outfitted for Naval command and assault operations. Her mission bays were optimized for Marine Corps usage, and General Rivers had moved his own command staff to conduct the Battle for Helios. A dozen Crusader class warships came down right behind as escorts, and more than double that number of Liberty class destroyers. Many more heavy transports and Liberty class troop carriers moved in right behind them. Once they had slowed down enough, the ships opened up access to their hangars and launch tubes. It was this final stage that marked the transition from transport to attack.

  Drones launched first and then came the fighters. Lightning and Hammerheads screamed out from their mother ships, rushing off to engage the enemy. Maulers and even older landing craft then followed, each filled wit
h marines and Vanguards, moving to the surface as fast as they dared while jinking to avoid gunfire and surface-to-air missiles. Many were hit during the descent, but the heavy armor on the Maulers took most of the fire. Only two were shot down, and both managed an emergency landing under extremely heavy fire. By the time the first Maulers were on the ground, there were also Hammerheads swooping overhead to provide close air support.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The war machines of the Biomechs were almost unchanged from their great struggle with the Helions and their allies. Most assumed this meant the Great Enemy was disinterested in evolving their combat forces, improving their equipment, or changing their tactics. Just a little forward thought would have concluded that the only reason there had been little change was quite clear. The forces that assaulted Helios Prime and Spascia were not the primary forces of the Biomechs, they were simply the survivors of that war so many generations before. Most of the Biomechs had been cast into the Black Rift, to be forever trapped in their own domain so many thousands of light years away. As the Alliance made its way closer and closer to seeing this Rift activated, some began to speculate on what might be found on the other side. Would the Biomechs be exactly the same as those encountered so far? Or would the Great Enemy that had been in exile for so long have evolved into something more horrific and terrifying than the monsters that had already killed so many millions?

  Evolution of the Biomechs

  ANS Dreadnought, T'Karan-Helios Prime Rift

  Spartan marched through the ship with Khan standing right beside him, as they had done on a hundred other occasions. This time there was a subtle difference, one that neither of them ever would have expected. On Spartan's other flank stood the implacable form of Forty-Seven, the Thegn soldier Spartan had spoken to first of all during General Rivers’ visit. All three were armored from head to toe, though unlike the other two, the Thegn’s armor was natural rather than added on. All of them also bore the star symbol of Hyperion. Spartan had given Khan the chance to choose something in the hours as they were waiting and had almost immediately regretted it. Khan simply chose the symbols often used by his own people. In theory, this should mean nothing more than putting the mark of Kerberos or a city of Proxima Prime on their armor. The reality was quite different, and each human they passed seemed to confirm that. The star of Hyperion looked more like a jewel, reminding all they met of the interest his people had in the mysteries of the world they had called home for two decades.