Lords of War (Star Crusades: Mercenaries, Book 1)

by Michael G. Thomas

  “You are supplying weapons to the Byotai occupiers. Where are they?”

  Turi looked to General Daniels and shook his head. The two shared a look but quickly turned away as the enemy soldier issued orders to his men. General Daniels tried to smile, but it would not happen; instead relied on the fact the mission was presumably still a success.

  Sending the weapons on the other convoy wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  The Anicinàbe soldier approached the two of them and started shouting in the Byotai language. No matter how angry he became, Turi continued to ignore him. This went on for some time, and then he struck Turi before moving to him.

  “So, you are another of the mercenaries, are you not? Where are the weapons systems?”

  His accent changed slightly as he became more frustrated. He lifted the handgun and pointed it at his head. One of his comrades stepped closer and said something. Both of them looked up, and their voices became louder. The figure looked back at their new prisoners.

  “You will talk soon enough, or you will die. It is up to you.”

  He moved in front of Gun and looked up and down the creature. At the same time, one of the Anicinàbe soldiers reached out to grab him. Gun snarled and delivered a powerful uppercut that snapped the soldier’s neck in an instant. He took another step toward the Anicinàbe leader, but four more soldiers blocked his path and took aim at the General and Turi.

  “Mercenaries or soldiers of the Alliance? Get back, or you die, right here, right now!”

  Gun stopped and looked back at General Daniels. He gave him a short but obvious nod. He could almost have laughed at what was happening.

  You fools, kill me or Gun and the Alliance will burn this place to the ground.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The modular ship designs of the Crusader, Conqueror, and Liberty class have proven themselves in countless battles, the flexibility in configuration and their reliability more important than any individual weapon system. Over three hundred of these vessels now serve in the Alliance, crewed by citizens of every colony from the birthplace of humanity; Earth, through to the alien worlds of Helios Prime and Spascia. These workhorses are assisted on day-to-day operations by attached units from regional forces. The fleet is well supported for operations at a minute’s notice.

  Naval Cadet’s Handbook

  Ceani Valley, Karnak, Byotai- Anicinàbe Border

  General Daniels could hear the sound of the returning Anicinàbe flyer above them. Its engines screamed as it dropped the last few metres and landed. There was no way to see the thing from where he was, so far underground and hidden inside the temporary prison cell. He looked to his left, but it was almost impossible for his eyes to adjust and so looked up to the tiny pinprick of light. The cell was circular and big enough to house a hundred people. There was a single large, secure door leading inside, and the ceiling reached up at least a hundred metres. He ran his hands down the walls, feeling the smooth finish.

  “It is one of our mines; we dug them all over Karnak over three hundred of your years ago.”

  The General couldn’t quite see Turi, but his voice was clear enough.

  “This world is rich in resources, so why give it up so easily?”

  Turi sighed.

  “It was no single event, but the constant skirmishes with the Anicinàbe made it too expensive in the long run. These planets are a long way from the other nine quadrants. In the end it cost more to protect these mines than they were making.”

  He muttered something in his own tongue before continuing. His accent was thick, and his voice slow, yet General Daniels couldn’t but be impressed that the alien had mastered his own language so quickly and effectively.

  “So we withdrew and left these worlds to their fate. With us gone, the Anicinàbe left. They never wanted them; they just didn’t want somebody to benefit.”

  Again he said the same word, presumably an insult for the Anicinàbe. One of the large doors opposite them began to make grinding sounds. Turi spoke quietly but more quickly.

  “Tell them nothing, General.

  Once they have what they need, we will all die.”

  General Daniels nodded, not that the alien could see him.

  “Don’t worry, I’m saying nothing.”

  The door swung open, and a bright white light filled the cell. None of them could see as the staggering form of Gun lurched into the room and collapsed. Before they could do anything else, multiple arms grabbed at the General, dragging him away while his eyes were still adjusting.

  “Courage!” was the last word he heard Turi shout, while Gun lay unconscious on the ground.

  * * *

  There were three of them in the room, but one in particular seemed to be excessively interested in him. General Daniels tried to move, but he was pinned to the table, his arms and legs strapped down.

  “Another Byotai mercenary. Are you not a little old to be playing soldier? Or are you something more?”

  The voice was synthesised, and if he strained his neck, he could just about make out the partially hooded shape of an Anicinàbe warrior. The figure shook its head and unravelled its covering one strip at a time, until finally revealing the baldhead of a female Anicinàbe. She was short, very small in build, yet there was something about her demeanour that implied pent up anger, even rage. She opened her mouth, and the synthesiser took over.

  “I am the Ogimà, the Chief. You may call me Nakoma.”

  She walked two steps to the side and moved in quickly, bringing her head right down alongside his. He could feel her warm breath down his neck, and spittle dropped from her mouth as she spoke.

  “I am the regional commander of the Khagi region in the Anicinàbe Marche. This territory belongs to the Anicinàbe Coalition. What is a man from the Alliance doing here? Are you a mercenary, or from the Alliance military?”

  She then stood upright and moved her shoulders, stretching and creaking them.

  “The civilians of the Marche asked for help to protect them from the barbaric cold-bloods who seek to steal its wealth and resources. The Marche has always been a free territory, a place that all warm-bloods can call home.”

  It sounded like a rehearsed speech, and General Daniels couldn’t help but laugh at her posturing. She looked down at him with venom positively dripping from her eyes.

  “Human.”

  The words were artificial, laced in malice due to the translator, but he could easily sense the fire in her voice in the slight pause before the electronics kicked in.

  “Who are you? What are you doing in the Marche? You are a long way from home, are you not?”

  She made a low-pitch grumbling sound in her throat.

  “Your friend was not cooperative. We will work around that soon. You are helping the Byotai as well. I know you are. Now...Tell me!”

  General Daniels looked away from her and found him looking into the hidden face of another militant. There wasn’t a shred of bare skin showing on this one, with even the eyes hidden behind glowing red lenses on rubberised goggles.

  The Marche; doesn’t that just mean a border region?

  He tried to recall where he’d heard that name before and barely noticed the figure moving closer. It reached forward, grabbed his head, and twisted it back to face the female Anicinàbe. He groaned as he was turned with savagery to the side. Now he could see the male militant pulling out a short, razor sharp-looking blade in his hand.

  “I think I know. Yes...I am sure I know why you are here...”

  The Ogimà bared her teeth.

  “The Byotai rats have paid many people to bring in weapons to attack and kill civilians of the Coalition. You are a soldier. I can tell.”

  She walked back and forth, almost as though having a conversation with herself.

  “You are here to protect their illegal weapons convoys. That is where we found you. We know they are using them at the Byotai terrorist camp inside Mount Caldos. The weapons will not keep them safe forever.”

&nb
sp; She pointed the blade at his throat and rested it on his skin. The blade was barely touching him, yet it hummed gently as it made contact. He knew the anti-aircraft missiles would be the only things keeping the enclave, and perhaps thousands of Byotai safe. If he failed, the Byotai fighters would be expelled or killed, and the entire Tenth Quadrant would soon fall into Anicinàbe hands. After that, the fate of millions of civilians would hang in the balance, and that was just this one world out of six.

  Stay strong. The supplies will reach them in three days. After that, they can hold their own until real help comes along.

  He felt a tingle, and she continued moving the blade down to his chest. It didn’t cut deep, just enough to leave a thin red trail behind the device. It passed his navel and continued downwards.

  “Wait. I’ll talk,” he said.

  Nakoma stopped, lifted the blade, and looked into his eyes. She then signalled to her comrades. They deactivated the shackles to his arms and lifted him up into a seating position before reactivating them. She began to speak, and he found it hard to understand the first few synthesised words.

  “...attacked our aircraft. Tell us where they are, and we will end your suffering.”

  He leaned forward to stare straight into her eyes.

  “There’s one thing I need you to do for me first.”

  Her eyes tightened as she listened.

  “What?”

  To her surprise, the bruised and beaten prisoner began to laugh.

  “Lady...you can start by kissing my ass.”

  If he’d had the strength, he would have shouted it out, but it came out as little more than a mumble. She moved in close and rested the blade at his throat.

  “Tell me that again.”

  This time he took his time and said the words slowly and clearly. By the time he’d finished, he could tell she understood, and though he knew it wouldn’t be good for him, he took a moment of pleasure in seeing her face contort.

  Yeah, let it out, lady.

  He didn’t even see the hand of his tormentor reaching up to his side. The first realisation occurred as the male Anicinàbe struck him hard. It was a powerful impact, but to a trained and experienced soldier, and one that had suffered considerably in the past, it seemed like a scratch. He laughed.

  “Hit me again, but you still won’t be able to save your soldiers.”

  He looked at her, his eyes glowing with anger.

  “The Byotai will not go quietly, and when they are ready, they will make all of you suffer.”

  She yelled something, and the blade sank down into his flesh. He passed out after the third slice, but not before he’d spat into her face.

  * * *

  Kha’Dri World Ship, Taxxu Prime, Centauri Alliance

  Spartan turned away from the group and looked out into space. As always, this part of the ship was orientated towards the Black Rift, the great permanent tunnel through space connecting this region of space with Helios and the rest of the Alliance. They continued to speak, but he ignored them for now, thinking about events in the past and the people he had known.

  The Alliance never learns. Always reacting.

  He could feel the frustration in his body, the lack of control, but that was the price he paid for setting himself aside from the Alliance. His new life far from the conflict and argument allowed him to focus on developing new technology. More important was that he had been able to spend time with those that mattered, his few remaining friends. There was no time he could remember where he had not been involved in bloody conflict and war, until now.

  Stay out of it, Spartan. This is not your fight.

  The room was known as the battle deck and was used as a briefing room, training hall, and a weapons test zone. In the past it had been the command centre for the ship, the place from where the Great Enemy commanded their forces in the final war against the Alliance of races. Unlike most parts of the World Ship, this one was almost a perfect large cube in shape, with one half nearly completely open to the void of space. Tall windows ran from floor to ceiling to give a perfect view.

  “It happened exactly as you’d expected,” said Khan.

  Spartan turned away from the view and looked back into the vast, barren space. He was not alone. There was Khan, his faithful friend as well as Mr Walker, the CTC executive, and Kanjana.

  “Yes. The Byotai removed their military forces and allowed Anicinàbe settlers in, all as a gesture of goodwill. A demilitarised zone they called it. Well look at it now.”

  He pointed to the massive floating sphere showing the dust bowl planet of Karnak. It hovered over the centre of the room like a machine with an intelligence of its own. The world was covered in coloured shapes to show where the Byotai settlements were. He shook his head in frustration.

  “The Anicinàbe settlers were infiltrators, people with no interest in living there. I bet they’ve been stockpiling weapons for months, maybe years, and now they are evicting the Byotai where they find them, or worse.”

  Khan grumbled and pointed off to shapes a distance from the world. A dotted line connecting them to the planet, implying they were further away than the model suggested.

  “And what about the blockade? This Tahkeome is still stopping traffic in the area?”

  Walker had been silent until now but answered.

  “Yes. He is supposedly trying to keep weapons out of the area, acting like the good, peaceful Samaritan. In reality, that means stopping the Byotai from shipping in weapons and defending themselves. Without weapons, they will lose.”

  Spartan nodded.

  “And then this Tahkeome will sweep in, declare victory right on the Byotai border for stopping the fighting, while consolidating his powerbase. All the while the population of what, three millions Byotai, they will pay the price.”

  He turned around and looked towards the fifth figure, the vast shape that might easily have been ignored as a statue in the centre of the room. It was On'Sarax, the leader of the only seven Biomechs in existence. Her body was at least the size of Khan, but there was no obvious head. Her four arms hung down from the joints and to her knees.

  “What will they do then?”

  A single blue lamp flickered each time she spoke, roughly where the eyes would be on a living creature.

  “The Anicinàbe are a primitive people, but they are quick to react and to act on opportunity. This Tahkeome is unusual, a figure of considerable intelligence and cunning.”

  Spartan didn’t seem particularly surprised.

  “I suspect this will be the beginning of a long campaign to take all six worlds in the disputed territories, a way to test the Byotai, while strengthening the bonds between the Anicinàbe.”

  The machine moved its torso to appear as if she was facing Spartan. The others remained silent, considering the implications.

  “United they will be more powerful than all of you combined. There is a reason we avoided getting heavily involved in their disputes.”

  “I know,” Spartan said, interrupting the machine, “And then the Byotai will be forced to concede the six worlds or to face a war against a growing power on their border.”

  Kanjana shook her head.

  “I am still in the room, On'Sarax. My people are not monsters,” she said in mock irritation.

  The machine leaned its torso forward in a conciliatory gesture.

  “I merely give voice to the facts. This is no reflection on you or your kin. In the past, my people sowed discord amongst the Anicinàbe. Tribe versus tribe and warband versus warband to keep them from unity.”

  Kanjana turned to Spartan.

  “Do you believe all of this?”

  Spartan had no need to answer. She could already see the answer on his face, and so she looked back at the ancient machine, a towering creature of long-lost knowledge and wisdom.

  “With my people’s influence gone, the Anicinàbe are now free to follow their own path, and it appears many of them seek to benefit from the weakness of others. They will attac
k anybody they can benefit from, including each other.”

  A loud cracking sound announced the opening of the massive grand doors. They were vastly oversized; at least five times the height of the Biomech machine and three times wider. Any sensible design would have place a smaller doorway at the base, but not on the World Ship. A single figure emerged, that of an Alliance officer.

  “Just one this time,” Khan said under his breath.

  They all turned to watch the officer, and he stopped before Spartan.

  “Colonel,” he said, in a questioning tone.

  Colonel Black lowered his beret to his side. His expression was serious, tinged with something Spartan had not seen from the man before. He glanced at the others and then to Spartan.

  “Have you got somewhere we can talk?”

  Spartan shook his head. The Colonel seemed unconcerned by the others, but the shape of the ancient Biomech machine was clearly an issue. The Colonel took a step closer.

  “This is non-negotiable, Spartan.”

  He moved in close and spoke quietly.

  “It concerns the General.”

  Spartan felt a lump in his throat. He had never been incredibly close to the man, but they had fought side by side in the Uprising. Since then they had crossed paths on multiple occasions, and always fighting the same enemies. They were men of the same era, and though they had now taken different paths, there was still much they had in common.

  “This way.”

  Spartan moved off but gave a nod to Khan. The Jötnar joined the pair and they walked to the side of the battle deck. A gantry disappeared off into the bulkhead near the tall windows. They followed it until they were in a small passageway that was suspended over the glass. Space was visible in every direction bar one. Spartan stopped and looked to the Colonel.

  “Well?”

  “It’s the General. He was in a convoy with Gun taking weapons and equipment to the Byotai settlers in the Khagi mountain region, all supplied by Alliance Intelligence. They were hit by militants, at least that is what the reports are saying.”

  Spartan closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

  “Both of them?”

  Colonel Black shook his head.

  “We’ve lost contact with our contacts on Karnak. The last information we had they were taking prisoners to an underground facility. We suspect he’s amongst them. When they discover who he is...well, the repercussions could be terrible.”