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

by Michael G. Thomas

  “You’ve been there?”

  “You could say that,” Khan grumbled.

  Spartan looked at her carefully. He was sure he hadn’t met her before, but there was something about her eyes. He glanced at Khan, but he had already moved on to speak with the others.

  “Is this your group? Who are you?”

  She nodded.

  “Yes, they’re mine. Most of them are from the old world, but a few are from Kerberos. My name is Arana, and our unit goes where the work is.”

  “I thought private contracts died out years ago?”

  Arana’s face remained fixed and unemotional, but she clearly knew who Spartan was. And if she knew that, then she would also know he had run the largest and most successful private security company in the Alliance. Before the market collapsed and the embers of the company had been snapped up by CTC.

  “There is always work for a fighter, wouldn’t you agree, Spartan?”

  Her armour was well cared for, he could see that, and there were pieces of alien technology mixed in with the mainly human armour. One sported a Khreenk rifle, but most carried ex-military or civilian firearms. Another of her soldier approached and deactivated her helmet. This woman looked the spitting image of Arana.

  “This is my twin sister, Syala. She’s the angrier one.”

  Syala extended her hand and grasped Spartan in a tight, vice-like grip that surprised him. They looked as strong and deadly, as they were beautiful.

  “Spartan, it is good to finally meet you.”

  He shook his head and indicated for Colonel Black to move closer.

  “They know the mission, and the risks?”

  The man nodded.

  “Of course. They are professionals, and with something of a pedigree. You heard about the Earth southern continent fiasco?”

  Spartan had to think for a moment.

  “The terrorist takeover of the Earthsec Antarctic fusion reactor? Yeah, I’ve heard of it. Didn’t the entire unit get wiped out?”

  Colonel Black grinned.

  “That was them.”

  “You bet your ass it was us,” said Syala, “Thirty of them overran the place and killed four guards. Earthsec botched an assault, so we were brought in. Lucky we were in the area.”

  “What happened?” Khan asked.

  We took the facility in less than an hour.”

  “With how many soldiers?”

  Syala gave him a coy look, and Arana sighed in irritation at her sister’s clear bragging.

  “Eight, and every one of us came back without a scratch.”

  “Interesting. I thought that was the Black Widows?” was all Spartan had to say.

  He looked back at the group.

  “Is this an all-woman unit? I’ve heard of you before. But this unit was active before you were born, surely?”

  It was a clumsy question, perhaps too personal.

  “Yes, it was the Black Widows. As for all female, would that be a problem?” Arana asked.

  She didn’t seem angry, but Spartan sensed a little hostility in her tone. She’d also avoided the question, and neatly bypassed their ages, or their background.

  “Not at all, just curious.”

  Arana lowered her head, almost in apology.

  “Good. All foot soldiers keep their faces covered at all times. That is part of the agreement for joining our outfit. We get involved in some compromising operations, and if our faces are known, it could cause...well...complications. That’s how we’ve maintained our untouchable reputation for so long.”

  “What about the two of you?”

  Syala laughed.

  “Oh, if anybody wants to cause a problem with us, they are welcome to try.”

  Arana pointed at the sphere behind Spartan and the others.

  “We have just over an hour before we arrive, do we not? Maybe you could explain what that thing is?”

  Spartan looked at her, turned around, stepped inside, and then tapped the buttons on the panel. A mist flooded out and obscured the view as they vanished inside. The two Jötnar watched but seemed more interested in keeping an eye on the Colonel. A clunking sound was immediately followed by most of the mist vanishing. It was replaced by one of the cylinders opening up along the side the operations level. The entire front rotated around and revealed a space at least two metres wide and three metres high.

  “What is that?” asked the Colonel.

  Arana looked to her sister, but no one seemed to know. Inside the open cylinder was a machine, one much like those he had seen fighting back on the World ship, but smaller. It was perhaps a head shorter than a human and wider at the chest. The head was sunk down lower than a man, and the shoulder extended out further. The machine stepped out and moved elegantly towards him. It was unpainted and completely bare metal, as though it had just come off a production line. The metallic sphere opened up so that Colonel Black could see Spartan inside the cylinder.

  “Colonel, Ladies, let me introduce you to the drones of the future, or as we like to call them...CD 1 Combat Drones, ‘Grunts’ for short.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The end of the violent struggle with the Biomechs once and for all guaranteed a place for military robotics. As the battlefields were cleared of the thousands of casualties, a growing belief grew throughout the worlds of humanity, as well as the T’Kari and the Helions. This great change occurred due to their desperate desire for machines to replace the living in times of strife and conflict. For every individual supporting this new ideal, there would be another that would always remind them of the biomechanical enemy that had only so recently been destroyed. Was the only way to win future wars to be determined by how much power could be handed over to machines? The Carthago Trade Consortium invested heavily in this new future, one where man would be supported by machines like never before.

  Equipment of the Alliance Marine Corps

  ANS X-45 ‘Titan’, Helios Prime, Alliance

  Spartan moved inside the sphere and pulled on the harness. It was a substantial affair and wrapped around his shoulder, middle, and abdomen, much like an old-fashioned parachute harness. He then tapped a button to the side, and with a gentle whoosh, he was lifted up and suspended in the air. He was able to move about freely without striking the sides. He looked out to the assembled crowd.

  “This is the old design, back when we thought operators would need to physically move their bodies..."

  He moved his hands rapidly.

  "...like this.”

  Each time Spartan moved, the drone machine mimicked his own movements. He performed a series of steps and punches, and the machine copied him exactly. Spartan then stopped, pressed a button, and placed an odd skullcap onto his head. He looked right at the Colonel and grinned.

  “Watch this.”

  Spartan didn’t move a muscle, yet the machine moved around and performed a complex martial arts kata, stepping, kicking, and punching like a well-trained human martial artist. Finally, it stopped and Spartan opened his eyes.

  “The neural interface is fully operational.”

  Colonel Black stepped up to the machine and examined it, speechless at what he could see. It was smaller than the machines he’d seen before, now just a little shorter than a man, squat but sturdy in appearance.

  “You adapted the Ghost Warrior technology? This quickly?”

  Khan seemed especially proud of the thing. He pointed to the sphere that Spartan was now exiting.

  “This ship, when fully supplied can carry a hundred people, with ten times that number of combat units.”

  He pointed to the machine.

  “They can be operated via line-of-sight from the dropship or one of our Maverick suits. They can even perform basic functions autonomously, but that is not fully ready yet.”

  He pointed to the Jackal landing craft.

  “That means ten marines inside the Jackal can command them remotely in battle. If one is lost, we can release another and drop it into action, all without losing the ope
rator.”

  Khan licked his lips.

  “Or one warrior can lead a squad into action on his own. They are capable of semi-autonomous action when commanded like this. Just tell them where to go or what to shoot, and they will do the rest.”

  Khan walked up to the machine and tapped it. The sound was dull and barely echoed.

  “Or control them fully from the safety of a bunker or nearby flyer. These drones, combined with the new generation Maverick suits, plus the faster ships, will transform the battlefield.”

  Spartan watched with amusement as the Colonel tried to take it all in. The technology was impressive, but it was the degree of advancement that must have stunned him. Creating a new Vanguard or rifle was one thing, but the ship and the drones was taking it all to another level.

  “The only question, Colonel, is will the Alliance be prepared to put all of this into service?”

  Khan snorted.

  “From what I’ve heard, some of the senators want to hand over the minimum amount of money, and even less people. That's why they’ll create just the initial brigade, manned by the best volunteers. They can come from any world, even those with just military agreements within the Alliance. Like the Byotai.”

  Spartan seemed to agree.

  “I’ve heard the same, typical Alliance, looking to cut corners. Do more with less. Nothing changes. That's another reason for creating this unit. We actually can do more with less.”

  Colonel Black listened to them both, but he seemed the least pessimistic.

  “It might work better actually, like a foreign legion; a force to be used that will have limited repercussions in the Alliance, being as it is crewed by multiple races. By including the others, the brigade should attract a wide variety of people and support.”

  Khan laughed.

  “Maybe, but one brigade? What’s that, about six thousand ground troops when at capacity? More like it will allow them to ignore casualties when it goes wrong. Nobody will care about drone casualties or alien mercenaries.”

  Spartan moved to the side of the deck and examined more of the machines, all of which stood in silence inside their smoke glass cylinders. He stayed there for a while as the others continued to talk and argue about the technology. He turned back and found them watching him.

  “It’s time we got ready.”

  He pointed to Olik.

  “Get your personal gear out and checked. I need you all to be ready at a moment's notice.”

  Spartan then moved to Khan.

  “Check the control matrix and start the diagnostic routines. I want these drones ready for combat. Run the tests, and then do it again.”

  Khan nodded and began to move away, but Spartan called after him.

  “Do a full bandwidth test. We’ve never used more than five in one go.”

  “What about me?” Olik asked.

  Spartan looked to him and then to the Colonel.

  “It’s time to plan this little operation of ours.”

  Colonel Black spoke immediately.

  “I assume we follow procedure. Land a recon team first, locate prisoners, and then assess the situation. Keep the primary force in reserve.”

  Olik nodded.

  “Yes, that is what I was thinking.”

  Spartan straightened his back and clicked his shoulder joints. It wasn’t the mission that he was thinking about, not entirely. It was the fact that after so long it looked like he would be putting himself back into a potential warzone.

  “This is my suggestion,” he started.

  Khan opened his mouth in a wide smile. He knew exactly what a suggestion was from Spartan.

  “We are lacking solid information. A full-combat drop could just draw attention, and right now we don’t even have a target. We will perform a high-speed, low altitude insertion near the target. I will go in first. The rest of you will then move to a secure location and wait for my signal.”

  Khan didn’t seem very keen at this point.

  “What? We came here to help, not to babysit the ship.”

  Spartan reached out and placed his hand on his friend’s forearm.

  “Khan. A squad of Jötnar and drones is hardly subtle. You will stay with the Colonel until I have something actionable. Just be ready when I send the signal.”

  Khan looked almost offended.

  “Dammit, Khan, I need you as my backup. There is nobody I would trust more. I need you here, so when I have a fight arranged, you will be there. Understood?”

  Khan let out a long, slow breath of frustration. Colonel Black now interjected.

  “I agree with Spartan. We have major combat assets on board, but we need to know where to put them, and when. You never go into combat without a mobile reserve. You get the intelligence, and if you find the General and Gun, we’ll be there in minutes.”

  He looked at Khan.

  “There is no better reserve than a squad of angry Jötnar.”

  Khan opened his mouth to reveal his jagged teeth. They had been repaired multiple times over the years, but no amount of dentistry would make him look any less the monster.

  “You’re not wrong, Colonel.”

  He then pointed at Spartan.

  “Just don’t take too long. My patience is short.”

  Spartan laughed.

  “Like I don’t already know that.”

  Colonel Black brought out a series of maps on his device and placed it on one of the workbenches.

  “Now might be a good time to plan this little operation. Recon, rescue, and extraction.”

  Khan pointed at an icon over a settlement.

  “And the weapons, we will make sure they get to the civilians.”

  * * *

  The Helios System was a shadow of itself. Five planets, all of which had been inhabited in the past. The capital, Helios Prime was still an irradiated wasteland, a place where few would choose to make their home. The more barren worlds of Libuscha and Spascia had also both suffered from the heavy fighting in the war. The shipping routes were filled, not with warships but transport, civilian liners, and mining vessels. The rebuilding project was the largest in history, and every ship capable of spaceflight was being used.

  “Incredible, isn’t it?” said Colonel Black.

  He was with Spartan on the command deck and looking out at the great distortion ahead of them. Much like the Black Rift, the Byotai Spacebridge was a permanent tunnel through space that connected a point near Helios Prime with a transit zone inside the Byotai Empire. Gone were the vast machines required to keep it open, and instead was a small Alliance cutter and half a dozen Helion patrol ships.

  “Yeah,” said Spartan.

  His voice suggested he was unconvinced.

  “All one happy family now.”

  Colonel Black walked along the deck and stopped in front of the gently curved screens that filled most of the front. The Rift was getting larger and larger as they maintained their present course. The crew continued about their duties, with few making more than the occasional sound. Even he had to admit they were working surprisingly well, especially on such a complex ship.

  “Colonel, now we find out if your authorisation codes do the trick.”

  He looked to Spartan.

  “They will work. Our agents have spent a lot of money making sure we can recreate internal transit passes.”

  Spartan laughed.

  “Recreate. I like it, such a polite way of saying forged.”

  “Spartan,” said Five-Seven, “Access codes accepted. We are on approach to the Spacebridge. Route is clear and secure. We have full clearance for travel.”

  Spartan leaned forward and tapped the button on the left computer unit to the side of his seat. He wasn’t surprised the codes worked. As far as he was concerned, this entire operation probably had full Alliance military support and backing. But there was still a nagging doubt that once there they really would be on their own.

  We can rely on nobody out here, nobody but ourselves.

  “
We’re about to enter the Spacebridge. So make sure all gear is stowed and you’re ready.”

  He looked back to the Colonel.

  “And you don’t think the Byotai will wonder what this ship is doing in their territory? It will be flagged immediately.”

  Colonel Black shook his head.

  “No, Spartan, it will not. The specification has already been added to the Alliance fleet registry. We are listed as a diplomatic transport, with our transit markers coming directly from Terra Nova.”

  As he spoke, the Alliance cutter was already moving out of the way to let them pass. Spartan almost felt that he should have been hiding as they entered the mouth of the Spacebridge and towards their final destination. His body tingled as they passed through, only to reappear in Byotai space. It barely seemed like a journey, more like travelling through a door and into a different room.

  “Contact!” called out one of the crew. The accent was thick, but the words clear and obvious. Spartan allowed himself a smile as he listened to them. There were very few people that even realised the Thegns were anywhere but in the factories or habitation ships around Taxxu Prime. Now he had them on board, and they could speak and function as well as any ship’s crew he’d met before. At the same time, they were immediately alerted by the ship’s warning alarms. Spartan looked to Five-Seven who was calling out orders to the crew.

  “What is it?”

  Five-Seven brought up images of multiple ships on the mainscreen.

  “We have five Byotai warships on an intercept course. Their gun ports are open, and they are ordering us to stand down.”

  Spartan licked his upper lip and gazed at the vessels. The largest of the three looked like a large bug, with three substantial components at its core. Powerful engines slung down low on each side, and bright flames extended out as they continued accelerating towards their ship. Spartan moved his attention back to Five-Seven.

  “Is the course to Karnak laid in?”

  “Yes, Spartan, a direct course to orbit over Karnak. Engines are spooled up and ready.”

  “Do it!”

  Five-Seven already knew what he meant and hit the activation button. The invisible warp in space-time established itself around the ship in an instant, and in the blink of an eye they were gone, moving away without moving. Spartan watched the imagery of the ships, but they were gone as quickly as his eyes could focus.