Ghost Soldiers (21 page)

"We will, don't worry. One way or another, this creature is going to burn."

Now that they were fully inside the vessel, the still functional gravito-magnetic field was pulling them down. According to the readings inside his armour, the field was projected out to all internal sections of the vessel, and came from a gravity unit hidden deep inside the bowels of the ship. It was similar in operation to the tech now used in the more modern Alliance ships, yet this one had been operating for an incredibly long time and without a crew to operate or maintain it.

"How is this thing working after all this time?"

Captain Delatorre followed just a short distance behind, along with a squad of Thegns led by Five-Seven. Though artificially created, they still needed to wear the more basic naval issue PDS suits if they wanted to travel in a vacuum. This meant that Five-Seven and the others had been forced to land with the first wave of dropships, due to the lack of suitable armour for them. Five-Seven answered, but his voice was slightly muffled by the respirator covering his face.

"There is a major gravity unit here, probably running from a depleting core. It will run until the power unit finally fails. Based on the energy outputs, I'd say it has hundreds of years remaining."

Khan grunted with satisfaction.

"So, permanent gravity on the derelict. Good, I hate zero-gravity."

"More important, we have air," said Captain Delatorre.

Spartan looked back at the man who seemed so puny in his PDS protective suit.

"Yes, just don't any of you remove your gear; let the filters do their job. I wouldn't put it past this thing to pump something into the air system."

It felt odd to him that there was a breathable atmosphere inside the derelict, and he could only assume it was either working due to being left on permanently, or more likely, as an enticement to get them on board. It was the possibility they had been tricked to get them aboard that worried him the most.

The marines split into fireteams and moved ahead in pairs. The speed and precision gave the impression they were moving through a standard drill, but this was exactly what they trained for. There was never an occasion where a marine moved without being protected by a comrade. The Mavericks were amongst these groups of men and women, great armoured machines with the strength and firepower of an entire squad at their beck and call. They had penetrated a good way inside already, and Spartan was thankful the entity on board had so far left them alone. The quietness of their movement was punctuated by the thud of guns from the remaining drones continuing to circle the derelict, doing their part to keep the vessel busy.

"Give me a full sitrep."

All three Marine lieutenants responded with their positions, and he was pleased to see that all of his units were inside, and had made it with minimal casualties. Only Lieutenant Anne Lee worried him with her news that the flank sentry guns on the way in killed six marines.

Nine dead so far. Still, that's better than the entire complement.

He tried to stay calm, to remember they had taken the least bad option, but that didn't help the nine dead marines. He'd only brought seventy-two with him and they hadn't raised a weapon in anger yet. Spartan was well aware that if they had stayed on board he would have lost scores of marines and most of the crew. Even so, it still felt hard to know that they were now gone, all because of some freak arrival.

"Good work. Keep moving. There are two large passageways connecting the cruiser to the rest of the derelict. 3rd Platoon will take care of the first. I will take 1st Platoon and deal with the larger one."

The radio crackled.

"What about us?" Lieutenant Kipling asked.

Spartan glanced at Khan who nodded back in the direction they'd come in from.

"Stick to the plan. You have the largest platoon. I need you to establish a secure zone at the landing bay. We have to have a fallback position, one that is well defended and allows the withdrawal of our dropships. Secure all corridors and compartments within a two hundred-metre radius. Get SAAR robots in the passageways, and weld shut any hatches or vents you find. Button this thing down into a fortress."

He licked his upper lip.

"Our ability to escape this place will be in the hands of your platoon. I need dedicated zones for fireteams, with heavy weapons placed and areas cleared for sleep and chow. Dig in and wait for my orders."

 
One marine stopped and signalled for Spartan. He moved towards him, all the while keeping his eyes in the distance. It was Sergeant Tyler.

"What is it, Sergeant?"

"Look, Sir."

At first Spartan thought he was just looking at Trusskan bodies, much like the decayed layers of dust and clothing seen inside the habitation section of the ship.

"These were the ground troops of Lieutenant Kipling. What could have happened to them?"

The final moments of a combat unit were rarely serene, yet this entire platoon had fallen without their operators ever knowing what had hit them. The main cluster of CD-1 Grunts were something of a pathetic sight, with the entire platoon spread out over an area of a hundred square metres and each frozen like a group of bronze-age warriors confounded by the gorgon's gaze.

Spartan moved past those that had frozen, noting the odd postures many were in. A pair were kneeling and aiming weapons that had vanished from their arms. It was then he realised every single one of the Grunts had been stripped of their weapons.

"Check them."

Two marines examined the Grunts up closely. It didn't take long for both to confirm the Grunts still carried ammunition, but their weapons were gone. Spartan continued on to a pair riddled with holes. As with the others, they were also without weapons, but these two had been caught up in violent struggle. Close inspection revealed them as deep punctures, but with no sign of thermal or explosive damage. He looked back at the glowing walls; there was nothing to show signs of battle.

"That's all but five of them in this section," said Sergeant Tyler.

Spartan moved to the next Grunt and stopped to examine this one with as much attention as the others. Though the same colour and design, it bore a coloured mark on its torso, flagging it as the commander unit. None of them were damaged, yet all were now non-functional.

"Can they be reused?" he asked.

A pair of Thegns was busily moving around the dormant machines and rolled one over so that it lay on its back. Both fiddled away with an open panel, and a third pushed in a separate panel to reveal the override functionality. The creature studied the information on the panel for a few seconds before looking back to Spartan and shook his head.

"The programming has been wiped. They are all blank. With the memory logs wiped, I cannot tell you more. I suggest you speak with Lieutenant Kipling."

Spartan had expected as much, but the loss of so many, and without much of a fight, was troubling to him.

"The Grunt default programming is to stand and fight on loss of signal, so why did they just let the enemy come close and disable them?"

Khan pushed one of the Grunts hard, and it tipped over and crashed onto the deck. Blue energy pulsed from the impact, moving out like ripples on water throughout the rest of the interior of the cruiser, reminding all those now inside that this particular part of the derelict was at least partially functional.

"Either they were disabled before they could fight, or they refused to fight. Something went wrong here. Kipling has questions to answer when get back."

He began to wonder if having the man and his platoon guarding their rear was such a good idea. The last time he'd boarded the ship they had been hit hard, but he had no reason to doubt the entity would resurface, and the ability to leave the derelict was an important one.

Maybe I should...

Spartan spotted movement off into the distance and instinctively activated his shoulder-mounted weapon. All thoughts of the Lieutenant vanished and were replaced by the potential for battle.

The cannon raised up out of its hidden mount and powered up. The rest of the abandoned cruiser was as lifeless as the entrance, and there was no lighting to be seen, just the odd movement of energy that travelled the walls, just as much as it moved along the floors and ceiling. This energy came the ship in odd hues of dark blue and grey, showing little detail.

"I very much doubt they refused to fight. So they were either knocked out with a weapon, or something made them stop. Keep moving, we need this entire section secure."

A small group of Maverick armoured marines approached from the left where a dark tunnel led off into a smaller part of the ship. Behind the Mavericks was a column of marines. The nearest heavily armoured suit bore the markings of an officer.

"Major, we've swept the bow. It's clear, and I have a team checking the connection points back inside the derelict."

Spartan nodded.

"Lieutenant Anne Lee, glad you got this far. Seal off the access points connecting the bow with the rest of the derelict."

The motorised arm lifted as she saluted, and then began to move away.

"Sir. You say secured, as in permanently?"

Spartan shook his head.

"No. We are going to use the innards of this cruiser as our home until the rescue party arrives. I need all access points under our control. This is foreign territory, so we need to deny any ground we cannot defend. Make sure it is protected with SAAR robots, charges, and guards, but don't seal it completely. Mine it in case we need to collapse key points."

He looked to Khan who was busy nodding away at each point.

"I agree. If they come, we will block the flanks. Then the only other way inside the derelict will be for them to come through our platoon via the centre passageways. And we will be waiting for them."

"Yes, Sir."

She moved away, the remainder of her platoon following. Spartan was certain he could see the dejected look on a number of them. They had arrived in this sector as rescuers, and now they were as trapped as those that had previously fallen on this derelict. He called after them."

"When you've secured the entry points, make sure you post sentries and dig in. I will need a floating squad for patrolling. This isn't over yet. Every minute we can buy will give us a fighting chance to get home."

They left and Khan moved in front, partially blocking his route.

"Patrols?"

Spartan nodded.

"Yes. We can't just sit and wait. This enemy will find out we're here, and the only way to buy time is to make life difficult for it. Patrols will keep them on the edge, and it will keep our people alert. We also need to find a way to shut down this ship and get it moved onto a new course."

"True."

Many more marines fanned out to secure the passageways, cabins, and multiple levels throughout the Trusskan ship. As a section was declared safe, it was marked off the tactical map carried by each of the officers. Normally, the networked mapping would do this automatically, but now they were forced to update the details manually. It was slower, but still quicker than using a separate device. A brief glance showed Spartan that so far they had secured six key areas, each of which was interconnected.

"Good. Secure all major access points and junctions with SAAR robots. I want two sentries with command override for the machines. No robots to be left unguarded."

The robots were designed to operate in multiple modes, but the most common was a location defence mode. The unit would scan the preselected area for signs of movement, and then based on its declared rules of engagement, would defend itself. The intelligence required was modest, but it was still an autonomous system, and that meant it needed a human to monitor it. Spartan was taking no chances.

So, I have sixty-three marines, and fifteen crew and Thegns. We need to be cautious.

The IAB Marine Company had now split, 1st Platoon moving with Spartan and Khan into the heart of the ship. 3rd Platoon was heading to the bow and top sections of the ship; 2nd Platoon remained near the entry points to guard the landing bay and their way out. That was where most of the Thegns and crew remained, along with Five-Seven and Captain Delatorre. Spartan was taking no chances this time. He would hunt the beast, but not before he had secured his flanks and established a strongpoint to operate from.