Machine Gods (Star Crusades Nexus, Book 2) (33 page)

His intercom whispered gently in his ears.

“
Spartan,
we have a problem,” said Tuke in his machinelike
voice.

“I know. Tuke, what’s your status?”

“I…I am in position behind a fallen walker. My
sensors indicate more of these machines in the area. Whatever we
are going to do, it needs to be done quickly.”

Spartan nodded mentally.

“Wait, I can see…”

Then the
transmission stopped. Spartan used the
retina-based control system on his suit to reconnect to Tuke, but
the alien warrior didn’t respond. There was no sound on the
intercom, and Spartan couldn’t do anything but hope the T’Kari was
staying low and silent. He hoped against hope that the alien fool
didn’t try to do anything clever.

“Bastards!” snarled Khan.

In an instant,
Spartan knew their position had been compromised. The smaller
warriors moved about quickly and smashed aside a pile of broken
metal, dragging Tuke out. It was like watching a pack of dogs
pulling a rabbit out of a warren.

“
Khan, do not move!”
came from Spartan’s lips without even thinking. He knew full well
that his old comrade would be itching to jump into the fray.
Spartan continued watching the machines, and his blood felt as if
it was starting to boil.

“Spartan, we have to help!”

“Don’t you dare, Khan!”

They dragged
the helpless Tuke toward the waiting metal
behemoth. It bent down slightly and moved its head closer to the
T’Kari. It then turned to the right and swung back with its right
arm. Sharp, heavily powered claws grabbed at him and lifted him up
off the ground. The blade cut deeply, breaking and shattering the
armor like rotten wood. Gas escaped from the cracks and damage.
Spartan knew there and then that Tuke was a dead man. He wanted to
leap up, but they were heavily outnumbered. Dying would achieve
nothing for any of them.

“
What the hell!” he
shouted
, as one of the six smaller
machines pulled metal out of the way to reach him.

He lifted the barrel
of his L52 Mk II pulse carbine and blasted it with a single
high-energy round. All three barrels combined their output to send
the triple charge directly into its
center mass. At this distance, the high-speed round smashed
cleanly through its armor, out of its back, and into the debris
behind it. Spartan pushed himself up, twisting to aim his weapon at
the next nearest foe. It fired at the same time as Spartan, and
managed to clip his armor along the left elbow joint. The impact
was like being hit by a lead weight, and it spun Spartan about. As
he lost his balance and fell down, he watched with satisfaction as
his target fell backward, missing its head.

“
Die!” screamed Khan
over his intercom
.

With that, he rushed
in, firing his weapon as he vanished into the middle of the group.
Even the great machine seemed to recoil at the fully armored sight
of Khan. He shot one and then leapt at the center of the large
machine. Spartan didn’t wait, lifted himself to his knee, and took
aim at another of the soldiers. A powerful impact struck him hard,
and he turned his head to see a second of the massive machines
standing over him and grasping his armored leg. Then he was upside
down and hanging from his foot; a great deal of pain soared through
his limb, and his carbine lay helpless on the ground.

I’m not going like this!

He flailed about and
struck at the metal plating on the machine. Not even his most
powerful blow
could penetrate it. He
caught a fleeting look of Khan as he hammered away with his edged
weapons, and then he could see space.

My
pistol!
He remembered.

Without even needing
to check, he reached down to his thigh and felt the flat metal
plating. A gentle tug and the military issue firearm came away
loose in his hand. He aimed it at the blurred shape holding him and
pulled the trigger repeatedly.

* * *

Spartan opened his
eyes to the sight of nothing but the dull shadows of other
prisoners. He reached down and checked the pain coming from his
legs. The pain in his left leg was excruciating to the touch. He
blinked a few more times
, looking around
with wide-open eyes. They started to adjust to the grim lighting
conditions, and he could see that the people around him were an odd
mixture. Some wore military clothing, many nothing more than rags.
Spartan opened his mouth to speak, but the dryness in his mouth and
throat stopped anything other than a groan from coming
out.

Where
the hell am I?
he wondered, swallowing
several times.

He smelled the air.
I
t was damp, cool, and very different to
the feeling he’d expected inside a spacecraft. The wall behind him
felt cold and slightly rough, maybe shaped from some form of
resin.

“
Spartan?” He heard
a familiar voice.

He looked about,
trying to find a sign of his friend. The shadows and hidden faces
of the dozens of people in this section made it almost impossible
to adequately search the place. He tried to stand, but the pain in
his leg kept him on the floor.

“Spartan, over here!” said the voice, this time from
his right.

He twisted at the
hip, lifted up his bodyweight on his hands, and finally found the
large shape of Khan behind two groups of people.

“Khan? Yeah, I see you.”

Spartan’s eyesight
was much better now, and he could see there were holes above them.
They were tiny, no bigger than a finger, and sent down a dull
yellow glow at equal distances along the floor.

“
Stay there,”
s
aid the old warrior.

With a lot of noise,
he staggered over to Spartan and dropped down beside him. His right
arm hung down uselessly, and Spartan could see dark shadows across
his body. It was only then he realized neither of them was wearing
their armor.

“What happened?”

Khan coughed a
little and let out a low groan. The cough itself seemed to send
more pain through the Jötnar’s body. Both of them leaned against
the wall. They were like a pair of old men with the aches and pains
of bodies three times their ages.

“You don’t remember the trip?”

Spartan shook his head.

“No, last thing I saw was you fighting that
machine.”

Spartan was sure he
could see the glint of teeth, presumably Khan grinning. He finally
closed his mouth and sighed.

“
Spartan,
but that was about a week ago. You don’t
remember getting here?”

He thought hard,
desperately trying to remember. He’d dreamed of all manner of
bizarre things. Machines fighting, dogs running off with his keys,
and being trapped in an ice cube. The images were all short, as
dreams always were, but none of it seemed relevant for what was
happening. Again Spartan shook his head.

“
No, nothing, I
don’t remember a thing after the fight. I take it we didn’t
win?”

Khan coughed
roughly.

“
Well, Tuke didn’t.
They pulled him in half before I could kill that thing.”

Spartan was
surprised, even shocked at this revelation.

“You destroyed that monster?”

Khan
tri
ed to laugh, but the pain was now
clearly causing him trouble.

“Oh, yeah. The first one was easy. It was the second
one that was the real problem. You know, the big, dark red
one.”

He looked at Spartan
as if
he should know what he was talking
about. Again the two waited, but Spartan simply couldn’t remember a
single clear image of the events. Khan leaned in close.

“He’s the one that took your hand.”

Spartan’s heart sank
at those words. He lifted both of his arms and found the stump of
the left arm that stopped at the elbow. He almost choked as he
realized the trauma his body had sustained.

“What…what happened?”

“
It took your arm
and smashed your legs swinging you about.”

He sat back and let out a long breath.

“
Still, you weren’t
useless. You manage to bring it down to the ground with your
pistol, long enough for me to get there.”

“And yet we are still here?”

Khan laughed grimly.

“
I might be a great
fighter, Spartan, but even I can only destroy so many of them.
Another four came after the red one. We both fought, but they beat
us down and dragged us to their ship.”

“Tuke?”

Khan coughed,
“Yeah, he’s still on that station. In
pieces.”

He picked up a rock or piece of metal and cast it
along the floor.

“Poor bastard.”

The two stared at
the other prisoners for almost a minute before Spartan spoke again.
As he opened his mouth, he cradled he mutilated arm, trying to
avoid looking at where the cut had been. The stump itself was
covered in a synthetic material that was as hard as
plastic.

“Who fixed my arm?”

Khan spat on the floor.

“Fixed? The animals out there sealed your stump
Spartan, that was before they started the questions, in the yellow
room up there.”

Khan pointed above
them and to the small lights. Spartan looked to the light, and then
it came back to him, as if a video screen had been showing him the
footage. He recalled the bed he’d been strapped in, as machines
moved around sticking needles into his upper arm and shattered
legs. The part he remembered most clearly was the red machine. It
looked like the others on the derelict station, yet this one was a
dull crimson and adorned with trophies. As he thought back, he saw
images of human, Biomech and T’Kari heads hanging about its
torso.

“
You remember?”
asked Khan
, watching his
friend.

Spartan tried to
speak but leaned forward, retching as his body involuntarily
spasmed. If he’d actually eaten anything, he would have vomited.
Instead, his body went through a series of painful convulsions and
eventually calmed down.

“Yeah, you remember the red machine well enough. He
just keeps asking one question.”

Spartan panted and
it took him almost a minute before he could speak. He took a number
of deep breaths before trying.

“Question? Yes, he kept asking me…over and
over.”

“Where is the Gate to Helios?” finished Khan.

Spartan looked to him and nodded slowly.

“Yeah, same for you, huh?”

Spartan rested back,
doing his best to ignore the pain. He looked to his right and then
to the left, counting over forty people in the dark, cold place;
the majority a similar size to Spartan, but one thing seemed to
unite them.

“They are avoiding eye contact with us, why?”

“
They’ve been here
longer than us. I don’t think they are strong enough to speak, let
alone try and move over to us. I’ve tried talking to them,
but they always look away. Sometimes they cry,
but usually they just curl up and say nothing.”

A
noi
se in the darkness alerted them. It
was the shape of a man. He lifted himself up to his feet, and his
silhouette was black and clear underneath the dull light coming
from above. He looked over to the two of them and staggered to the
nearest wall. As he reached it, he pulled back his head and smashed
it as hard as his frail body could manage. His forehead connected
with the wall in a cracking motion that must have shattered bone.
Not one of the other prisoners even flinched as his body slid to
the ground, still, and quiet as death. Khan looked to
Spartan.

“
It
happens every day. This place must make them
mad.”

Spartan’s right fist
clenched tightly, and he was convinced his left fist was doing the
same. His upper body shuddered as his anger spread through every
muscle in his body. Even those in his broken legs did the same.
Khan sensed a change, and he turned and placed his great hand on
Spartan’s shoulder.

“
Khan, we’re not
staying here. We are getting off whatever this is
, and we are going to put their heads on spikes. You
understand me?”

Khan nodded, but
even he seemed less than convinced at the words.

“
There is just one
problem, Spartan.”

“Which is?”

“
This place, it’s an
underground prison. Where will we go, assuming we can get
out?”

Sp
artan seemed unconcerned at that piece of
information.

“
Prison? So what? I
was trapped on Prometheus with General Rivers for long enough. We
got out of that one, and we will this one as well.”

“True, but you had Gun on your side back then. This
is different.”

Spartan shook his head.

“
No, not really. I
have you, and we have something else that they don’t
have.”

“
What?” asked Khan,
genuinely curious to hear his response.

Spartan tapped his temple.

“
I can remember the
way we came in here.”

It may have been
dark, and both of them were in pain. Even so, Spartan was convinced
he could see the gleaming, dull teeth of his friend as he smiled.
He punched Khan pathetically in the shoulder with his good
hand.