Star Crusades Nexus: Book 09 - The Black Rift

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Where to now, Sir?” Lieutenant Takeda asked.

  Captain Garcia had already selected the next waypoint. It flashed up bright and clear in the primary display in front of them.

  “Are you sure, Sir?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Oh, yes, it is time.”

  The formation of battered, but still operational Maulers pulled away from the damaged warship and made for the opposite side of the Micayan Shipyards. Every few seconds, a missile would streak toward them, but the defenses on the Maulers, as well as the nearby Liberty destroyers, made missiles all but useless. The navicomputer selected the best possible route through the hundreds of kilometers of shattered gantries, wrecked ships, and broken cargo units. Waypoint after waypoint appeared until there was a total of fifty-two of them.

  “That’s an interesting course, Sir.”

  The Captain nodded.

  Green rectangles moved about in the display to show the projected route. Even Lieutenant Takeda was surprised at its complexity. She didn’t complain, and in less than thirty seconds they were moving through the first of the markers. The vessel continued its bizarre corkscrew maneuver, and then they were back in the middle of the maelstrom. The entire section of the vast shipyard’s complex was burning. Large structures were wreathed in flames that burned the compartments from within. It was the scores of ruined civilian and military vessels on this part of the facility that caught both officers’ attention. Captain Garcia sighed.

  “Incredible, and to think that all of those burning ships were already mothballed or partially scrapped.”

  More of the Maulers joined them through the wreckage and on toward where the fleet was waiting hidden and dormant nearby. Every single one of the ships had powered down and hidden deep within columns of ruined vessels. It was the cool, dark part of the massive facility, and so far it had been completely avoided by the ships of both sides. A light flashed on the console indicating a flash communication from High Command.

  “This is Admiral Anderson. Commence Phoenix in T-minus ten minutes. I repeat, T-minus ten minutes.”

  The two looked at each other at exactly the same time.

  “How did you know?” Lieutenant Takeda asked.

  Captain Garcia tilted his head a fraction and looked over to her.

  “Look at the battle. The tide is turning in favor of the machines. They are heavily engaged, and our reinforcements with Anderson are already moving through the outer defenses. We look weak and desperate, and they know it.”

  Takeda wiped her brow and then pulled on the controls to perform a complex series of twists with the control thrusters. The g-forces as they slowed and then moved about were incredible and pushed both of them firmly into their seats. Then came a violent shudder as the main engines activated and blasted them off toward the next waypoints. Captain Garcia spotted the targets just as they moved out from cover.

  “Three fighters at point five.”

  He moved his hands over the controls while tagging each of them via his retina. He selected them, and right away the vessel’s turrets tracked and fired on them. Even when the fighters moved away from one, they would simply be hit again from another turret.

  “All I know, Sir, is that they are inside the shipyards, and the Ark is leading its main force on a wide orbit that will take them right to the planet. All that stands in front of them is the last Helion line. Seven ships won’t hold back an Ark. Are you sure we should be heading away from the fight?”

  He smiled back at her.

  “Trust me. They are going to want us there. The Biomechs want us kept busy, and right now they have a chance to strike a killing blow. What better way is there to keep us busy than by wiping out our fleet?”

  * * *

  ANS Conqueror, Micaya Shipyards, Helios Sector

  Admiral Lewis lifted the glass of water to his mouth and took a sip. His hand shook slightly, and a drip of water fell from the side before he could catch it. He lowered the tumbler and placed it on the counter next to his seat and again found himself shaking. He’d refused to wear the newly issued PDS protective suits and instead wore his Naval dress uniform. That wasn’t enough to keep him warm, so he’d pulled on an old and battered great coat. The effect was to make him look like a staff intelligence officer.

  We can’t stay shut down like this forever. What if the powerplants take too long to come back online?

  He’d been watching and waiting for what felt like an age. Since he’d taken refuge on this remote spoke of the massive shipyards, he’d been forced to watch the destruction of dozens of ships. Now the Maulers and fighters of the Alliance were busy attacking the Biomech ships as both sides ran amok through the wreckage. There were so many burning ships it was hard to even find a vessel that hadn’t already been smashed to pieces by guns and missiles.

  “How long till Anderson and his ships get here? It’s looking like a scene from Dante’s Inferno out there.”

  Lieutenant Vitelli, the ship’s tactical officer pointed to the IFF signatures on the tactical display. Each of the Alliance ships carried the important transponder to ensure there would be no cases of mistaken identity.

  “At their current speed, they will pass through the outer docking clamps in three minutes.”

  The officer looked up at the mainscreen and altered the focus of one of the external long-range cameras to point directly at ANS Warlord.

  “They are already under heavy fire. The Biomechs know Anderson is here.”

  The display confirmed what he was saying as they watched the vast fleet. At the heart of the force was the infamous ANS Warlord. Around this ship moved scores of other capital ships, and every single one of them was firing as they advanced through the shipyards. The older Crusader warships put down a hail of railgun fire in a constant barrage. Fiery streaks flickered out from them as point defense turrets operated as interceptors. Only the particle beam projectors appeared impotent as they released their invisible blasts of energy at the Biomech ships. As this great fleet surged into the fight, it was joined by squadron after squadron of Avenger, Lightning, and Hammerhead fighters.

  “That is a lot of ships,” said Captain Marcus.

  Admiral Lewis shuddered from the cold and turned his attention back to the display. Moisture was already forming on the glass-like surfaces, and every few minutes a crewman would wipe off the excess with a cloth. Captain Marcus joined him and looked at the formations of ships.

  “Apart from those in hiding, we’re now fully committed. This is going to be very close.”

  Admiral Lewis nodded, but before he could speak, Lieutenant Vitelli spun around in his seat, his face transformed to something close to elation. He coughed as he spoke, cleared his throat, and then repeated himself.

  “The Ark, it has changed course.”

  Admiral Lewis couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “To where?”

  All three of them looked to the tactical display where the great battle was taking place. Long lines with subtle curves showed the projected course for the Ark and its escort; every second it altered and moved a fraction closer to the shipyards before finally settling just off to the side. The number indicated the huge vessel would be just over a hundred kilometers from the outer limit of the orbital facility. In orbital distances that was point-blank range.

  “So, what are they doing, then?” Captain Marcus asked.

  Admiral Lewis nodded as if he’d just worked it out. He put his hands over the display and concentrated on the route the Ark was taking.

  “The Ark has changed course so that they can pass within gun-range of the shipyards. They can’t risk a direct route, and there’s no chance of major course changes, not now.”

  He then moved his hands to the lines of mothballed ships.

  “They surely intend on hitting anything that is left as they move by and then on to the planet.”

  He straightened up and looked to his executive officer.

  “You know what this means?”<
br />
  Captain Marcus looked at their dispositions and back to the Ark.

  “They will be close enough to tear out the guts of our fleet, for starters. You remember the firepower of the Ark over Helios Prime. We hit it time after time, and not once did we come close to destroying it.”

  “True, but this time we have twice the numbers and a few extra surprises.”

  Admiral Lewis pointed to their position inside the far off section of the shipyard. Icons showed the Alliance ships even though none were transmitting.

  “Over half of our ships, plus the entire Byotai contingent is waiting for the right moment. We will stay offline until the Ark is at this point.”

  He pointed and left a mark on the display. The computer had already assessed the timing required for the ships to hit their targets before they would be moving away, but not too early that they might be able to change their course. Captain Marcus and the tactical officer both looked at his projection with a growing level of apprehension.

  “Very nice,” said Captain Marcus, “So we hit them at their point of no return, and then what?”

  “By the time they move away, we will finish off their fleet, right here.”

  He indicated the heart of the shipyards.

  “What about the Ark?”

  Admiral Lewis sighed.

  “We will do whatever damage we can. They will head to Micaya and enter a low orbit. Once we’re done here, we can regroup, and then hit them when it’s convenient to us, not them.”

  “Uh, Admiral. At this range we might have a chance,” said Lieutenant Vitelli.

  The officer moved his tracking plans over to the display. They matched up with the projected course change for the Ark. Both of his senior officers looked at the data with interest.

  “You think we can disable the Ark from here?”

  The man nodded, the weight of his idea now beginning to dawn on him. Admiral Lewis looked at the data and shook his head in surprise.

  “That’s a risky proposition. You’re suggesting we hold fire until the Ark is already leaving and then hit from the rear, at this point?”

  Lieutenant Vitelli nodded, but he was too nervous to speak. Captain Marcus appeared less convinced.

  “Admiral, if we do this, the Ark will gain nearly eleven minutes worth of time to rake this entire site. Any ships they identify will be in flames before we can launch an attack.”

  “True, but if we can strike with my force, plus the Byotai, we can hit them from behind. Their escort is minimal, and we will be able to pursue them all the way to Micaya.”

  He licked his lip as he finished. The idea of surviving the battle had been his original intention, but the faintest possibility of getting the upper hand on one of these Arks was just too good a chance to let up.

  “Communications, I need a priority directed narrow-range briefing with Admiral Anderson.”

  He looked back to his tactical officer and then to Captain Marcus.

  “Anderson can hold the rest of their forces, especially with ANS Warlord entering the fray. If we can do this, we’ll protect Micaya and destroy their fleet in a single action. It’s going require the greatest of resolve. Can we do it?”

  * * *

  ANS Warlord, near Micaya Shipyards, Helios Sector

  Admiral Anderson watched the mainscreen as though his very soul depended on it. The crew managed their approach toward the shipyards, and for this short moment he found a few seconds of calm. The ship shuddered continually from the rain of gunfire, yet nothing seemed to harm her. Particle beams ripped off chunks of the ablative armor on her bow, and entire sections of plate tore from her flanks, yet on went the massive vessel.

  “What’s their status?” he asked.

  “Sir, we count thirty Biomantas destroyed plus eight Ravagers. That still leaves them with one hundred and fifty-three ships, plus the Ark.”

  “Yes, so our forces look equal. With Admiral Lewis and the Byotai, we will have twice their numbers. Good.”

  “Admiral, the Biomechs are redeploying.”

  “Show me.”

  The layout of the shipyards was a mess. The vast central structure was relatively uninvolved in the fight right now. Instead, there were two large spokes surrounded by ships, many of which were now damaged. Half of the Biomechs moved about at will, to attack whatever they could find. At the same time, the rest was heading to the outer limits to head off the Alliance reinforcements.

  “I see, so what exactly is in front of me?”

  “A single Cephalon, thirty Biomantas, and half of the Ravagers.”

  “Admiral, flash message from Admiral Lewis. For your eyes only.”

  He nodded and turned about in his chair to look at a smaller screen. A videostream appeared, along with a tactical plan. Before he spoke, he had already scanned through the schematic and the key points.

  “Admiral Lewis, that’s an interesting idea.”

  He shook his head as he continued.

  “There’s something I never did tell you though, about our little surprise.”

  The two Admirals looked at each other until finally the data arrived on Admiral Lewis’ screen. The data transmission was a focused laser system that could only be identified or monitored by directly blocking the line of sight, something that was currently clear.

  “Good God, will that really work?”

  Admiral Anderson grinned.

  “Why do you think I put her so far from everybody else? The Helions said this part of the station was defunct. I think it would be a fitting end to its service, don’t you?”

  Admiral Lewis looked at the imagery but found he was unable to even speak.

  “That’s exactly what I thought when Commander Erdeniz brought up the idea.”

  “Erdeniz? He’s the man that had the great idea with Endurance. You trust his judgment?”

  “That’s why I put him in command of ANS Explorer. He assures me the timing sequence has been corrected. Apparently, the issue last time was the proximity of the entry and exit points. The Rift distortion overlapped and caused some kind of feedback loop.”

  Admiral Lewis didn’t seem convinced.

  “So it was like having a microphone too close to a speaker?”

  He shook his head.

  “All I know is that ship was lost and caused almost as much damage to my own ships as to the enemy. We estimate our crew losses were over five thousand following the blast.”

  “Yes, there is a great risk. But as in that tragedy there was still good. You won that fight, one that looked far from possible.”

  “And if he’s wrong, Admiral?”

  Admiral Anderson breathed in slowly through his nose.

  “Nothing is certain, but if this works, we’ll cripple them in ways they have never even considered. It is my intention to develop this system into a major weapon, if it works.”

  Even Admiral Lewis shook his head as he tried to imagine the power of this weapon.

  “This will make the weapons on the planets seem inconsequential. This an apocalyptical weapon.”

  Anderson smiled.

  “I like that.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  What if the Alliance had never built that fated Spacebridge to T’Karan? Some postulate that humanity would have expanded as a natural phase of its development. There are many more that consider humanity would have fallen apart, due to the hidden enemies waiting on Hades and Mars. The Biomechs might have shattered the backbone of the Alliance but not invaded for perhaps another century. In the meantime, the machines would have smashed the Helions and become vastly more powerful. Instead, the Alliance was able to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other races in time for this epic war.

  The Unforeseen Consequences

  Battleship Retribution, Taxxu, Uncharted Space

  There was nothing but blackness and a slight feeling of a cool, slightly chilled atmosphere. Spartan could sense the stillness around him, but he refused to open his eyes just yet. His body was upright, and he was abl
e to stand without moving a single muscle; the feeling it gave him was almost of a weightless sleep.

  You will strike, and you will kill. Cut off the head, Spartan, and the body will die.

  The voice was familiar but as distant as the many other times he’d heard it. With his eyes shut, he could still sense everything around him. The connection between the Thegn armor and the machine allowed him to sense warmth, moisture, and sound, as if his skin was actually exposed, even though he was encased inside the metal machine. He could hear and feel a slight scraping on his armor, like a nail being drawn slowly across a board.

  Open your eyes.

  He opened them, even though it wasn’t what he had intended to do, and let out a long, shallow breath. The oxygen-rich feed inside the armor allowed him to exert himself to levels he could never have managed on his own. His pulse had slowed, and he felt calmer than he had been for a very long time. He looked upon the Rift in space and imagined what might be waiting on the other side. The Ghost Warriors waited patiently, with every one of them connected directly to the machinery of the ship. The shape to his right was Thayara, but he ignored her for now and concentrated on the view being projected in front of him.

  “How much longer?” he asked rhetorically.

  Another shape moved, and this was the form of One-Zero-One.

  “Forty-five seconds.”

  Spartan looked at the machine and found himself surprised the time had finally reached that final minute. The procedure had been running for so long now, but even as the minutes ticked by, he had no doubt in his mind as to what would happen. He looked down at his right arm and the short but deadly cutting blades. The blade was marked, and flakes of colored material showed where he had been scratching at something. He looked to the left arm. He leaned in close, but the voice of the machine spoke again.