Star Crusades Nexus: Book 09 - The Black Rift

by Michael G. Thomas

  "They've all stopped. Anderson says the ships have closed their gun ports. What's going on?"

  "The Biomechs have surrendered their forces on this ship."

  "Why?"

  Spartan looked to him.

  "That was the price."

  He looked back to the machine.

  "My son, my wife. They have all suffered for your wars. Do you think this is over with an agreement? Can you ever be trusted?"

  The machine lifted itself tall. It held its arms out to protect itself. Several of the Decurions moved close to its body, each of them watching him carefully.

  "You sent the signal to all warriors on this ship? All of your forces have received their final order to lower their weapons?"

  The machine replied in the affirmative.

  Spartan turned back and pulled himself back into his armor. The petals of plate clamped down tightly. He took a step back and then accessed the myriad of digital channels to communicate with.

  "What's he doing?" Major Terson asked.

  Khan checked his weapons were active but shook his head.

  "Major, I really don't know."

  “The last thing Z’Kanthu did was to send me this.”

  Spartan closed his eyes and recalled the information Z'Kanthu had given him in their last moments. He concentrated and then spoke the words directly to the Core.

  Still be alive, you crazed fool.

  He waited, desperately hoping that the mind of Z’Kanthu was still there, drifting throughout the artificial intelligence Core that housed almost infinite data.

  Come on.

  Deep inside the ship, the Core sent out its wail, a shockwave that severed connections between warrior and Core. One by one, the Ghost Warriors lost contact with the Core and leaned or tilted, their systems now devoid of control. It was temporary, but more than enough for Spartan to see they were offline.

  “You have a thirty-second window at most, destroy it!”

  * * *

  Captain Darryl Wilks hid behind the line of generators and looked to the lines of machines in front of them as they continued to march off to the right. The walls to the Citadel, as his men had nicknamed the structure were impressive.

  “Sir, there’s no way the charges will blow that thing,” said Corporal Sherril.

  He looked back at his squad of engineers. He’d lost almost half of his number to injuries getting this far, and now they were directly between the hull of the ship and the location of the Core.

  “Son, we’re not here for that. All we do it create an opening. The Admiral will do the rest.”

  He watched as the unarmed SAAR robot moved into position nearly two hundred meters away and right behind a series of bulkheads.

  “Captain, it’s ready,” said Tech Sergeant Gardiner.

  “Good. Get in there, now!”

  The entire unit climbed through the blast door and turned back to look at their handiwork. No sooner had the last marine moved through when the signal finally arrived.

  “Do it!”

  The SAAR robot vanished in a localized atomic blast that tore a section fifty meters in diameter through the side of the ship. Armored plating, gun turrets, and bulkheads were torn apart to expose the Citadel to the void of space. Captain Wilks hung to the nearby bulkhead with all of his strength and sent the signal he’d been waiting to send for what seemed like an eternity.

  “Admiral, she’s breached.”

  At the same time, Tech Sergeant Gardiner activated the blast door and brought it down to protect them.

  “Get back to the rendezvous!”

  The marines ran as fast as their legs would carry them, far away from the sight of the horrendous bombardment. Like the mighty dragon of ancient myth with its single weak spot, the combined firepower of the fleet hammered the wounded ship. Railguns did the work for a change, as round after round smashed through the weakened structure and right into the housing of the Citadel. Kinetic rounds tore holes into the plating, but it was the volley of siege atomics that did the final work. With nothing to impede their progress, they struck the plating of the Citadel and exploded with the heat of a small star.

  * * *

  Kha’Dri, Taxxu, Uncharted Space

  The ship shuddered as a mighty blast ripped through the innards of the vessel. More and more blasts continued, and Spartan turned his attention to the last of the Biomech commanders. He walked close and then stopped directly in front of it. Three Ghost Warriors toppled to the ground right next to his feet as he waited there.

  “Traitor,” hissed the Biomech.

  Spartan’s first blow stuck the armored shell, but he kept at it like a wild man attacking a punch bag. The machine struggled to defend itself, but Spartan had already shattered the shell of its torso. It cradled its limbs around the body to protect itself, but Spartan had become a beast. He yanked it to the ground.

  “Finish him!”

  Two of the marines ran over and emptied their clips into it without a moment’s hesitation. Spartan turned to call for Khan, but his friend was already there. The Ghost Warriors began to reactivate one at a time and threw themselves at their aggressors. The battle was savage and evenly matched, but Spartan knew they had the edge now; there was a chance. As he thought that, a pair of the enemy crashed into him and forced him over the ledge.

  "No!"

  He flailed, desperately trying to grab the edge. One hand missed, and as he slipped away, he embedded the reflective blade deep into the obsidian material. As he hung there, the two machines looked over and down at him, one took careful aim.

  This is not how it was supposed to end.

  The guns began to heat up, and then both tipped over and fell down past him. He looked down to watch them crash to the ground, and then spotted the other Ghost Warriors dropping around him like flies. He looked back up, and the armored arm of Khan extended out to pull him up. With a firm yank, his friend pulled him back to the ledge and away from certain death.

  "The Core is gone, and with it, all of their race."

  Spartan shook his head. "No, there are some on board their battleships."

  Khan shook his head.

  "No. They were all brought aboard this fortress to protect the Core and their masters. Their last warriors are leaderless. They are just carrying out whatever their last orders were."

  Major Terson walked close to the two of them.

  "What have you done, Spartan? You are committing us to genocide. With the Core and their ancestors gone, the war will never end. They are aimless and leaderless. What of the legions back in the Helios Sector?"

  Spartan walked to the ledge and looked down to the blood-covered shapes of On'Sarax and her comrades. They waited in a circle and chanted something in an odd, alien sequence. Even as they spoke, the Thegns and Decurions around them stopped fighting and lowered themselves as though in the presence of gods.

  "No. This is their domain. On'Sarax and the others are their Machine Gods now, the last of the Ancients. They will send out the word to every corner of our territories. This war is over. It is time for their warriors to come home. Z’Kanthu paid the ultimate price to end this war, and to free the last of his people."

  The interior of the ship had already changed from the short burst of violence and death to one of celebratory gunfire. Olik and Khan moved up to Spartan as he opened up his armor. He began to step out and then changed his mind.

  "What now?" Khan asked.

  "You can't go home, not yet," said Olik.

  Major Terson heard them talking and moved to his left, then right to survey the vast numbers of dead.

  "Victor or not, you're not too popular back home. If you ask me, I'd stay away from Alliance jurisdiction for now. Last thing you want is to go home a war criminal."

  Spartan nodded in grim agreement.

  "I've got nothing to go back for."

  Khan looked confused.

  "So where then?"

  Finally, Spartan smiled. He closed the armor up so that he was once agai
n encased in metal, and then slapped his friend on the back.

  "That, my friend, is a damned good question."

  On'Sarax and one of her yellow painted kin finished their long climb to the top to meet with the survivors of the battle. She stood in front of Spartan and gave him a short, slightly uncomfortable bow. She then went to the sculpture and placed an armored hand onto the object. It immediately glowed brightly.

  "I am giving the call to return. You have our word. The machines will be deactivated, the ships scrapped, and the biologicals..."

  "Yes?" Khan asked, "What about them?"

  "They will be freed."

  Khan looked to Spartan with hopeful eyes. Spartan shook his head in amazement.

  "What the hell do you want to do with legions of Thegns and other...creatures?"

  Khan laughed.

  "They helped us win this damned war."

  Spartan nodded in complete agreement.

  "Very true, my friend."

  He looked at the bodies of the smashed machines, torn bodies, and thousands of rounds of discarded ammunition. He couldn't imagine how many had now been killed in the war, but he was certain it was finally over. He looked back to Olik and Khan.

  "You know what? I'm sure we can find them something to do."

  * * *

  Grand Palace, Terra Nova

  Senator Yatsenyuk and her committee members looked at the images coming in from each of the war zones on the military tactical display. The unit had only recently been installed, and around it stood the virtual images of the primary commanders on the ground. Admiral Churchill was the only member of the military actually physically present in the room.

  "So, Spascia and Eos are clear of Biomechs. How about Helios Prime?"

  General Rivers looked as grim as ever.

  "They have been marching back to their ships for the last three days. We've retaken ground they took and taken control of their fortifications. Even if they changed their minds now, they would be lost. It's the same everywhere."

  General Gun grunted at this.

  "They have left Spascia, not that there's much left of it."

  Admiral Anderson then spoke.

  "Senator. Our forces have suffered terrible losses. Over a hundred ships, if we include the transports. Infantry has taken a beating, and our allies are not much better. The Byotai have their own problems, and the Helions, well, they don't even know where to start."

  "I understand, Admiral. We have arranged for aid convoys to begin immediately. They asked for our help, and they will get it. As a provisional member of the Alliance family, they will be treated like any of our own worlds."

  She moved the back of her hand nervously across her chin.

  "That brings us to the Black Rift and that can of worms."

  Admiral Anderson lifted his hand and answered without waiting any further.

  "The Black Rift is secure, and the Spacebridge, against our better efforts is permanent. We have seven of the so called Rift Engines, and the rebels are prepared to show us how to use this new technology to create permanent Spacebridges between planets and stars."

  Another of the senators started to speak, but Senator Yatsenyuk talked the man down.

  "What of the Biomechs?"

  The man would no longer be silenced, and he called out from the back of the small group.

  "What of Spartan? Because of him we were unable to relieve Spascia in time. Thousands more died in the atomic strikes. His hands are bloody with the..."

  "Senator, I was not aware that you were personally involved in the relief effort. I did not see you there," Gun snapped back.

  "Spartan had a choice, to end the war or send our last chance for peace to protect his son. He made the only choice, and it worked. The enemy is defeated; every one of them is dead. Their Core is gone, as are their memories and their history. For that, he paid a price in blood, both strangers and his own family. Be careful before you judge him."

  "It is true," said Admiral Churchill.

  He turned to face Senator Yatsenyuk.

  "Their legacy of the Biomechs remains. We have their technology, and we have what is left of their military forces. Their machinery is being scrapped, but the Thegn foot soldiers and their other biological warriors are a problem."

  "Yes," said Gun, "and it is not a problem we can wish away. They were created for war, just as my own people were. We must find a way for them to integrate. I will not stand for their extermination."

  Senator Yatsenyuk smiled as best she could.

  "General, this regime has changed. We understand and appreciate your long commitment to the Alliance. We will find a way for the war victims on all sides to co-exist."

  She then looked to the tactical display and pressed a button. The maps vanished and were replaced by the model of Spartan, resplendent in his armor.

  "What of Spartan? Has he gone off the reservation?"

  Gun laughed at the question.

  "We won't be seeing him for quite some time. He needs to be left alone. His losses are great, and his remaining friends are few."

  Senator Yatsenyuk nodded slowly.

  "We understand. The decision amongst the emergency committee was not unanimous, but we have still decided to grant Spartan, and any that worked with him, full amnesty. His actions were from the very beginning in the interests of the Alliance, and to end this war."

  Admiral Churchill walked in front of the group and next to the Senator.

  "It is a minor thing, but in recognition of the supreme sacrifices of so many in this war, Alliance High Command has requested, and been granted the privilege of creating a new honor."

  He looked back and a young Marine captain, dressed impeccably in her dress uniform walked into the room. She marched to the Admiral and saluted crisply. Admiral Churchill removed the small medal in the shape of the Helion Nexus, the image first seen on Biomech technology back before the first Rift was created to the Orion Nebula.

  "The Order of the Nexus War is to be granted to all forces, regular, militia, human, and alien that fought for peace."

  He replaced the object and then pulled out another.

  "From the metal taken from the destruction of CCS Crusader in the Uprising, we have created the Order of Victory. This honor is specifically to those that performed actions of supreme courage in times of great adversity."

  He paused for a moment and looked to those present.

  "Colonel Teresa Morato is to be the first to receive the Order of Victory, for her supreme courage in the Nexus War, and for her selfless sacrifice in the Battle of Spascia."

  He looked to Senator Yatsenyuk who gave him the nod.

  "The second recipient is Spartan, former Marine, troublemaker, rule breaker, and the greatest hero of not one, but two wars. As legate of the Alliance, he is a man that has done more for the races of this sector of space than perhaps any other soul."

  He raised his hand in a quick salute.

  "We salute their courage, and their deeds will never be forgotten."

  "Never forgotten," said each of them, but none louder than by Gun.

  As the sound died down, one of the senators made to move. Even from his position far away, Gun could spot the movement.

  "Admiral Churchill. How many more names are there?"

  The officer smiled as he answered.

  "Another two hundred and seventy-three."

  "I would like to hear them all."

  "As would I," added General Rivers.

  Senator Yatsenyuk looked to the other senators, the majority of whom appeared to agree with the General.

  "Of course. It is the least any of us can do."

  Admiral Churchill lifted his secpad and held up the medal once more.

  "For conspicuous gallantry in thirteen major star ship engagements, Admiral Lewis. Hero of Helios Prime and the scourge of the Micaya Shipyards."

  Each of them, military and civilian remained on their feet.

  "Never forgotten."

  EPILOGUE />
  Who were the victors of the Great Biomech War? Many worlds were left in ruins, and the armed forces of the Helions were smashed beyond recognition. Alliance forces were heavily eroded, yet the core infrastructure had been ramped up to a war footing. Higher employment and greater productivity had resulted in even the average Carthago citizen having the chance for a decent life. Expectations following the crisis were higher than they had been for generations. For the Helions it would be a time for austerity, but for the Alliance it was the beginning of a golden age.

  The Price of War

  Spascia City, Helios Prime

  Spartan reached the top of the mountain and looked back to gaze upon the ancient, smashed remains of the Helion world. Like most places visited by the Biomechs, little remained worth protecting. It was over a month since the fighting had stopped and still the fires burned.

  “So this is where it all happened?” he said quietly.

  At his side stood the figures of Khan and Olik, both scarred veterans of the war. For the first time in months, all of them waited on the peak without their armor. Spartan had reverted to militaryesque clothing, with a layer tunic, loose pants, and a tight cut leather jacket. He wore a bandolier across his chest and slung down low on his thigh sat a Khreenk pistol. The sound of loose rocks caught their attention, and one by one they looked back at the shape of a lone Jötnar coming up behind them.

  “Thought I’d find you up here,” said Gun.

  He made the last few steps and hobbled as he moved. Finally, he reached the other three and stopped to look upon the battlefield.

  “We could have done with you all on this battlefield. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Spartan swallowed painfully, and Gun immediately realized he’d said the wrong thing. He began to speak, to explain himself, but Spartan reached out and placed his hands on the Jötnar’s arm.

  “I know. I could have done a lot differently. Teresa and I made a deal, and it cost us. She would come here to protect our family. I would stay with the fleet and end the war.”