Star Crusades Nexus: Book 03 - Heroes of Helios (3 page)

Seven hostiles, two down.

He lifted his carbine and took aim. The impact from the butt of the carbine was normally modest, but in this zero gravity environment, it worked like a small thruster and pushed him toward the wall. Jack was already positioned to counter the effect and loosed off three more rounds. The other marines fired precision shots, taking care to only strike the hostage takers. As the rounds struck home, Jack spotted the first of the civilians further ahead inside the habitation area. It was a woman, possibly in her early thirties. She wore tan colored pants and a loose top, nothing more, and her face was discolored and bruised.

“Sarge, front sector,” he called out.

Sergeant Stone propelled himself through the melee without shooting and moved toward the next door and the entrance to the bridge. Two marines were struck by thermal shotguns, but although hit, neither seemed seriously wounded by the civilian weapons. The marines cut them down with ease and then chased after the Sergeant. Jack was closest to the door and pulled himself through to find Sergeant Stone’s feet clamped firmly to the ground, and his weapon raised and pointed at a group of five people. Jack automatically lifted his carbine and pointed the weapon in the same direction.

“Take it easy,” whispered Sergeant Stone in a stern and calm tone.

The woman and an older man were tied to their seats in the bridge and behind them were the five men. Each was firmly anchored to the ground or wall, using their feet or hands on the grab rails. Three pointed pistols at the Sergeant while the other two threatened their prisoners. Sergeant Stone deactivated the visor on his helmet, and it slid open, revealing his grim looking face.

“This is over. Give up the prisoners and you’ll get a fair trial.”

Each of the men smirked or grinned at his comments. Jack knew the lopsided smiles as more than just smirks though; they were the look of contempt. It sent a shiver through his body.

They are serious.

He glanced to his left and right, immediately suspecting trouble, and was rewarded by movement in the shadows. A robed man spun out with blades that glistened, embedding one in the armored flank of Sergeant Stone. The man grunted in pain before twisting left to strike his assailant. The man was fast though and used the low-gravity to his advantage as he maneuvered around the armored marine. Jack moved right and kept his weapon trained on the men. Not one of them moved.

“Trouble on the bridge, I think we have Neo Bábists here!”

Even as Jack said the words, he couldn’t believe what he was saying. The Alliance was filled with hundreds of religious groups and philosophical movements, but since the discovery of the Biomechs, a number of them had grown in prominence. Those religions that placed an emphasis on an end of life scenario or an apocalyptical event had found much to associate with. The Neo Bábists were one of those groups and shared the belief of the End Times and the manifestation of God. Since the first ships arrived in the Orion Nebula, it had spread like wildfire amongst those that feared the return of the Biomechs. By encountering sentient and violent life on these new worlds, the Neo Bábists had used this as a demonstration of the coming danger. Most adherents were harmless, but a militant faction had collaborated with others to try and halt exploration and expansion to hold off the eventual Judgment Day.

The marines tried to move in to help, but as with Sergeant Stone, they were halted by the hidden enemy. From behind consoles, computer units, and storage lockers emerged the enemy. They were poorly equipped and armed, but they moved and attacked with purpose and ferocity.

“Put them down!” shouted Stone.

Gunfire rippled through the bridge and habitation sector. Magnetic projectiles thumped into flesh while thermal shotguns melted through body armor. It was a bloody mess, and yet the group near the two prisoners still stood their ground. Jack moved closer and then spotted the cables running from their bodies to the seats. Small metallic devices were fitted at the base as well as around their waists. Jack looked into their eyes and knew immediately what the origin of the contempt had been.

Bastards, they’re going to blow this ship up.

“It’s a trap!” he shouted, but it was already much too late.

The man to the left lowered his weapon and then reached into a pocket. His expression had already changed to one of apparent pleasure. Jack didn’t wait and aimed his rifle at the center of the man. He pulled the trigger, and three small holes appeared in the captive woman’s chest. The magnetic projectiles ripped through her and then slammed into the man’s stomach. The impact forced him backward, and the device spun from his hand.

The remaining four lifted their guns and opened fire on Jack. Dozens of rounds struck his armor. He felt pain in his leg, and then the bridge spun about. He made out the shapes of the marines, gunfire, and Sergeant Stone before spotting the approaching bulkhead. Then came the blackness.

Where were the tanks or heavy artillery of the Marine Corps? It was a question often asked during the Great Uprising and a question still asked today. From its inception back in the Confederacy, the Marine Corps had always been an amphibious assault force. Marine armor and overwhelming firepower was the key to success. Vehicles were simply transports; something required to get the men and women of the Marine Corps into battle. Artillery and armor implied a loss of initiative and was avoided at the loss of many marines' lives. Finally, the introduction of Vanguards as official armored units in every battalion gave the Corps something to fill the gap. The new question was were the Vanguards there to support the lighter armed marines, or was it the other way around?

History of the Marine Corps

The door of the Alliance landing craft opened with a dull groan before striking the firm ground. Bright yellow light bathed the interior of the craft and almost blinded the small group of marines. First out was Commander Gun, the Jötnar leader of the 17
^th
Battalion. Technically, he was actually a Colonel, but the honorific title of Commander had stuck with him since the Uprising two decades earlier. He was now both the leader of his Biomech people and a high-ranking officer in the Alliance Marine Corps. The Commander Gun’s armor had been patched up and repaired, and his face was open to the elements. His massive form made him look twice the size of his second-in-command, Major Teresa Morato. She followed in her combat armor that looked equally as battered and worn as the Commander’s. Teresa stopped as soon as her feet touched the ground, and she looked ahead to the lines of soldiers who stood smartly to attention. Gun continued forward and made it ten meters before stopping and looking back.

“I think the General wants to see us, soon,” he said with a wicked grin.

Teresa nodded but her mind was elsewhere. After hours of bloody battle, they’d been granted less than three months rest where she’d actually spent the bulk of it chasing around to check on her marines. Following that, the small Alliance expedition had been split up with all of the warships returning, with the exception of the damaged ANS Victory. Memories of some of the minor borders fights flooded back to her, especially those that had worn down her battle fatigued fighters. She knew they needed to be sent back, but with all the changes that had occurred recently, the Helions would only trust warriors from aboard the renowned ship.

This isn’t right. We need a break, before my men do.

She looked up and noted the large number of Alliance fighters moving at a discrete distance. They were not taking chances with this posting, and it was just as well. The last group of Alliance civilians had been granted only a short audience with Helion officials before being escorted to the Rift. This time they’d returned with a more sizable contingent as well as those involved in the fighting to secure Helios.

They can’t turn us away this time.

“You ready to make an impression?” asked Gun.

“Always,” she replied in a quiet yet firm voice.

More ships had arrived since to replace them, as well as civilian ships bringing Alliance officials, yet it seemed that pain and sacrifice were something only the 17
^th
would have to endure. She’d already lost count of the number of messages she’d sent manually to each of the bereaved families. The assault conducted by the men and women of the Battalion to secure Helios from the ravages of a rogue enemy Guardian ship had cost them dearly, and it was always difficult to explain to citizens so far away, why their sons and daughters had died fighting in a place where they weren’t even wanted.

She closed her eyes for a moment and let the memories slide away. They were not gone, of course, just temporarily moved from her conscious thoughts.

Concentrate on the task at hand. You have people to meet and deals to make. Then you can go back to thinking about the dead and the missing.

An image of Spartan flashed into her eyes for a second, but she dismissed it just as quickly. She was well aware that finding him was going to be very difficult. That was when she spotted a delegation at the end of the procession and moved one foot in front of the other. Gun waited for her to reach his side before they moved on.

“Have you heard the news on the ship we took?” he asked.

“The Guardian ship?” she replied with suspicion.

Gun nodded in reply. Teresa was one of those that had fought on the vessel, along with Gun. It was massive, and easily capable of taking on multiple Alliance ships. It had arrived in the middle of a vicious battle between the Alliance ships and the Helion station that guarded the entrance to the star system. Only by the sacrifice of Alliance marines had the ship been stopped, and they had even captured its commander alive, the first to be caught.

“So, what news?”

“The Helions want it for their own research.”

“What?” she snapped back, “No way are we handing it over. We paid in blood for that lump of junk.”

Gun grinned to himself.

“Don’t worry; I don’t think Anderson is going for it. It cost us a lot to take it in the first place. Plus, we have the commander.”

He yawned and scratched his jaw, probably even less interested in the pomp and ceremony than Teresa was.

“The Senate sent an official out here for this…event. I wonder who they sent?”

His tone suggested a rhetorical question, and Teresa found herself curious at the suggestion it might be someone they knew. The two continued moving through the procession, and Teresa’s attention now turned to the soldiers. There were many skin colors and heights, but not one of them reached her relatively average height. She noticed their pale skin was taut, and their limbs appeared thinner and relatively insubstantial compared to hers. Their uniforms were equally odd with a strange orange hue, a color that seemed far from suitable as a color of war. Stranger though, was that none appeared to be wearing armor. Even their weapons looked primitive, but it was hard to tell from a glance.

Maybe their weapons render armor useless. Or maybe they are just useless. The T’Kari are hardly the best warriors we’ve ever seen.

They continued on until reaching another group of soldiers. They were armed in a similar fashion, yet these people were taller and better built than the first. Even so, they were still no stronger than she was. This group had rougher features to their faces and a more pronounced bone structure around the jaws, almost feral in nature. She tried to imagine what her husband Spartan would look like next to any of them and had to stop herself from grinning. Gun though marched past them like a giant; his arms each as thick as their torsos. Teresa could see the look in their eyes, a universal indication of what they felt. The involuntary gesture told her they were truly shocked at seeing him there, a monster covered in burned and battered armor and the markings and colors of the Alliance Marine Corps. Her eyes located the civilians a short distance away.

There they are.

Teresa spotted the small group of Alliance personnel waiting at the end of the long lines of soldiers. They waited patiently, though were chatting with several of the citizens of Helios. It was only then that she raised her eyes to look at the world around her. The planet seemed to be one giant city, with massive buildings, spires, and raised roads in every direction. Even the place where she walked appeared to be up in the sky and lifted well above the planet’s surface. Spacecraft rushed past as though involved in a never-ending race through the clouds. Further up, she could make out the silhouettes of massive transports moving slowly or lifting up into the atmosphere.

How high are we?
she wondered, looking to Gun.

“Have you ever seen such a place?”