The Great Betrayal (13 page)

The battle-scarred Jötnar was greatly out of place alongside the other officers. They may have been wearing the same uniforms, but there was no hiding the great monster of a warrior standing in their midst. General Daniels nodded in response to his words and then turned to Lieutenant Colonel Koerner.

“Colonel, you will command the relief troops for Phase One. Using the ground secured by your own recon units, the rest of the 17
^th
will land armored vehicles and bring in the heavier equipment. Once assembled, you will send in an armored column in support for Captain Carter and the rest of your forces at the precinct. Your remaining units will support Colonel Gun on the ground, wherever he deems it necessary.”

He looked back at the map and tapped it. The image changed to show the ground taken by the marines, as well as the precinct sitting directly in the middle of the Animosh defenses. It was clear Carter would have his work cut out holding this position, but there was nothing else he could do. It was the center point for the entire operation.

“Yes, General,” Koerner answered smartly.

Then he turned to Colonel Horst Brünner.

“Colonel, the 4
^th
are only recently reformed. As you know, I have decided to keep them on standby as a mobile reserve. You have the largest number of Vanguards and Jötnar assault units in the regiment and will need to be ready if the call comes. The Helions are a paradox, and we barely understand their people, let alone the many factions and cultures. I want options if things head south.”

Gun didn’t seem particularly happy about this and turned to look at the man. He wanted to say something, but Daniels spotted him trying hard to keep quiet. Though he had his own battalion to command, there were no more than a score of the Jötnar spread over more than fourteen hundred marines in his battalion. Brünner, on the other hand, was in command of the newly designated Heavy Battalion, and that included over a hundred of his kin under his command, marines that Gun felt personal responsibility for, even though they were now technically equal to any other citizen in the Alliance.

Don’t say it,
Daniels thought, as he watched the scarred warrior.
Perhaps in the past
he might have spoken, but over the years Gun has learnt something of diplomacy.
Good
.

The man simply nodded in acknowledgement, refusing to utter a single word of complaint in the presence of the Biomech. Daniels could see what was happening but decided that was a battle for another day.

“I thought you were some kind of spiritual leader for your Biomech friends?”

It was a low blow, but Gun seemed to take it in his stride.

“I still am, ask any Jötnar.”

“But your council, isn’t it now disbanded?”

Gun gave him a wicked smile.

“The council, but our tribal system remains, as does my place. We are now Alliance citizens, no different to you, as promised by the Senate. Most of my kin still live on Prometheus, Hyperion, and Luthien, and they are all colonies of the Alliance, as those of Carthago and Kerberos.”

“But you are not the...”

“Colonel,” cut in Gun, “you know nothing of our people, or what we have done for you. My people still consider me the first...because I am.”

Those last words made the other men laugh, and it bizarrely managed to calm things down a little. Admiral Lewis had been wondering at what point the deconstruction of the Jötnar political system would be brought up. It had been gradual but necessary if they were to become a full and active part of the Alliance. The benefits to the Alliance were already being felt as hundreds of Jötnar signed up to join the Marine Corps. As he looked at Gun, he did wonder if the Jötnar would ultimately replace normal humans, due to their natural size, strength, and toughness. That was for another day though; it would be generations before they would need to consider this. At least that was what he hoped.

“As you can see, gentlemen, we have a busy day ahead of us. Remember, we have specific objectives to achieve. Triple-check your briefings; the enemy is a violent regime that has turned on its own people. They are a ruthless people with the full force of the state security forces, known as the Animosh under their command. We estimate their numbers at a little over thirty thousand operatives in the capital alone. We are also aware that they utilize over a hundred combat drones.”

General Daniels took a short breath before giving them the final piece of information.

“There are also rumors that citizens from the pure blooded ethnic groups are volunteering to form citizen militias to help the Animosh. This is unconfirmed. Remember, this battle will be fought and won by the Zathee themselves. They have millions on their side, along with local knowledge. If we do our job, the Zathee will be able to finish theirs.”

* * *

Spartan drifted from the bomber and pulled himself to the ground of the station. He kept as low as possible and was pleasantly surprised to find the pressure and breathable oxygen indicators in his suit were both showing as green. He looked up at the cold figure of Khan and shook his head at him.

“Khan!” he whispered, as quietly as he could manage. A pair of emotionless eyes looked down at him.

“Follow me.”

There was a series of deep incisions in the floor of the hangar, much like pits in a garage, and he was able to move inside and out of the line of sight of anybody in the station. Khan pushed back and drifted down from the bomb bay toward Spartan. As soon as he was free of the craft, he found himself spinning uncontrollably. Spartan reached up, grabbed his foot, and dragged him into the blackness. With a hiss, his visor slid open to reveal a beaming smile.

“Can you believe it? We’re on a Biomech station!”

Khan showed no signs of amusement.

The bomber itself now sat in the center of one of the smaller hangars and attached to four long spindles extending from the sides, top, and bottom of the spacecraft. It would have been impossible in a building with normal gravity, but this section was like any other part of space, and the outer hangar there so that it could be safely pressurized.

“They must have people here, otherwise why bother with the air?”

Khan shrugged, but he was thinking about something.

“Why have people here? Maybe it’s being used to store prisoners, like the ship we were on.”

The mere thought of the ship they’d escaped from sent a sickening feeling through Spartan’s body. He looked down at his stump of an arm; doing his best to hide the bile he felt building in his throat.

“Bastards,” he muttered.

“There’s something else it could be,” suggested Khan.

Spartan was breathing quickly and tried to calm down for a few seconds before speaking.

“What do you mean?”

“You remember the inside of the T’Kari Raider, all those pods and the clones. What if this station is being used to store more like that?”

Spartan nodded but didn’t look convinced.

“Who knows?”

A sound from their right caught their attention and both fell silent. It was a clanking sound, and instantly took Spartan back to the ship. It was the sound the Biomech machines made when they walked, an odd mixture of servos, gears, and motors. Unlike the machinery used by the Alliance, the Biomech machines had a smoother, quiet sound, and it was unmistakable to him. The sound became louder, along with the clunk of large metal feet. Just as each foot moved, there was an odd suction type noise as the mag seals on its feet activated and deactivated in sequence so that it could move about ion a zero gravity environment. Then it appeared above him.

Another one of those things!

It took a great deal of self control not to hurl himself out of their dark hiding place and up into the hangar, so he could strike a blow against one of the hated machines that had caused him and Khan so much pain and suffering, and over so many months.

“Spartan, isn’t that the one?”

Spartan watched with interest as the shape went past. He could make out the coloring of the thing, and it seemed to be a dull yellow where any kind of paint was still intact. Most of its metalwork was worn down to the original material and was simply a matted gray that reflected little.

“No, this one is different and smaller. Watch how it moves.”

They both stayed as low as possible while high enough to get a narrow view of the machine. It was bipedal and about two and a half meters high. Unlike the machines on the ship, this one was equipped with four arms, and two were equipped with a selection of large tools. It moved up to the side of the bomber and turned to face the right-hand door nearly halfway along the length of the spacecraft.

“What’s it doing?” asked Khan.

Spartan watched and for a moment had no idea what was happening. Then the angular piece on one of the right arms started to spin and gave off a high-pitched screaming sound. It leaned toward the bomber and placed the tool directly onto the metalwork. A great blast of sparks flew from the outer skin, and in seconds the machine had ripped through the outer layer and was pushing its two tool arms inside the aircraft. Khan had lifted his head up enough to watch, but Spartan grabbed him and pushed him back down.

“There’s more of them!” he said, almost in a panic.

Two machines came from the other side of the hangar, but these were smaller eight-legged ones. Spartan kept low and watched them move by following their shadows on the wall. It didn’t take him long to recognize the form. He moved back down and faced Khan.

“Remember those eight-legged things on Hyperion?”

“The robotic fighting machines?”

Spartan nodded.

“Yeah, those things. Well guess what’s just arrived?”

Khan clenched his fists, gnashing his teeth as he listened to their approach. They were a powerful foe, and one he had a great deal of experience of. On Hyperion, one of the Alliance’s newest colonies, the Biomechs had attempted to build a portal. A large force of marines and Jötnar had defeated them at great cost. Khan himself had fought the machines in hand-to-hand combat and remembered the adrenalin and excitement, as well as the carnage when fighting them. Khan pulled Spartan close to his face.

“If they have those machines here, then they are expecting trouble.”

Spartan considered this for a moment.

“Us?”

Khan raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Are you serious? They would fill a station with machines, just in case we stopped here?”

As Khan explained it, Spartan did his best to hide his embarrassment.

Of course it’s nonsense to think they would take such measures for two people. It’s far more likely they’re here for something a little more substantial.

“You think they are part of an assault force. Yeah, makes sense.”

The two were quiet and listened to the sound of the machines moving about above them. Neither enjoyed skulking about in the dark. It was the exact opposite of their preferred method of combat. Spartan was the classic marine, always wanting to close with the enemy and engage them with every weapon to hand. Khan was the epitome of the Jötnar, a powerful monster of a man with the intelligence of a marine and the body of a Vanguard. It wouldn’t have taken much to get them out of their hiding place and into action. But neither was armed and both were feeling the effects of their deprivations on board the Biomechs’ ship. Spartan flared his nostrils slightly and then moved up very slowly to take a look.

“I’ll tell you something, old friend. We aren’t leaving this place until we have some answers.”

He started to pull himself away further, but Khan grabbed him.

“And some weapons, decent weapons.”

The Jötnar’s expression had changed already and into something more resembling the old Khan Spartan remembered. It had taken them a long time to make it out of that hole, but finally they were free, and neither was going back. He reached out and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find something, and I promise you, we’ll have our revenge.”

He almost spat at the ground but quickly remembered they were in a zero gravity situation. It was best avoided, so he kept his thoughts and anger deep down and inside.

It’s time these machines were taught a few things.

Spartan was already watching those above them and must have spotted something because he was out of the dark gap in the floor and moving through the air. He turned his head and looked back at Khan.