Ghost Soldiers (25 page)

"Colonel Gun, the doors are sealed. We can leave."

Gun nodded quickly.

"Good. Let's go, now!"

Chief Engineer Simpson moved off, along with a small team of well-trained naval crew and a handful of Thegns, two of which dragged a massive chest of tools. Gun turned his attention back to the troupe that had left the shuttle. They marched quickly towards him and the warriors from Prometheus before breaking formation and crashing into them, a great sea of arms and heads as they welcomed each other, friend and stranger alike.

"Good, it's about time you all made it here," said Gun.

He then pointed to the Chief.

"Are we ready?"

"Aye, Colonel. The ship is secure."

Gun beamed with pleasure and focussed his attention on Olik.

"Send the order. I want us at Sector Sixteen within six hours, less if possible."

Olik nodded and lifted his modified secpad to speak with the officers on the deck. Gun turned back to the group. The new arrivals wore cruder armour than those of the Red Watch. It was larger and thicker, and unlike the factory made armour. Every piece had been hand crafted and modified to fit them individually. They carried a bizarre mixture of weapons from welded double L48 rifles, through to double-handed clubs and heavily modified thermal shotguns. The biggest difference was the colour, the metal left bare, giving them a battered and almost medieval feel.

"Wictred?"

The leader of the group kept moving to Gun, and then dropped to one knee. He looked younger than the others, and certainly slightly smaller than the average.

"Gun. We heard your call. These are the best of my brothers."

Gun grabbed him.

"Wictred, son of Khan. I thought you'd left with the volunteers to Karnak?"

The young warrior shook his head.

"Not for another week. The ships are chartered. We're just waiting for mercenary escorts before we leave."

Gun narrowed his eyes a fraction.

"Escorts? I'm sure the IAB can do something about that."

Wictred bowed again gently.

"Whatever you need, you will have. Perhaps you could tell us what this enemy is?"

Gun opened his mouth and bared his teeth, the way all of his kin seemed to express their pleasure or amusement.

"Our enemy is something new and powerful. A foe worthy of our skills."

Every one of them seemed riveted by what he was saying, and with each word, Gun felt more and more at home with them. The ship shuddered a fraction, and Chief Engineer Simpson called down on the wall-mounted intercom.

"Colonel."

"What is it?"

"The engines, they are operating at one hundred and ten percent, as promised."

Gun nodded to himself.

"Good work, Chief, damned good work."

He gave the nod for Knaprig to continue.

"The enemy is a shape shifting, heavily camouflaged fighting machine from the ancient past. It appears to have the ability to take control of intelligent machinery and equipment, and is responsible for the state of this vast derelict. The Klithi are so fearful of this thing they are threatening a blockade of their Spacebridge until it is dealt with."

Gun watched them all as Knaprig described everything they had heard so far. It took nearly ten minutes to pass everything on until finally Knaprig stopped, and both Wictred and Osk shared a curious look. Osk said exactly what all of them were thinking.

"Where is this thing, and how do we kill it?"

Gun laughed loudly.

"My friend, that is the right question."

Robot controlled spacecraft were one of the great new ideas of the Alliance. Most crew could be replaced, and internal systems used to control and manage a spacecraft. The best example of this was with the proposed X-45 Confederate class, manufactured by CTC for use by the Interstellar Assault Brigade. Though the first production models were constructed to operate conventionally, each was fitted with fully automated systems that could allow a ship to be managed by one or two senior officers. Ultimately, it was hoped the crew could be done away with, and orders sent to ships from secure sites. The vessels would then follow pre-programmed routes to collect or drop off troops and supplies. The encounter with the Trusskan Derelict in late 372CC would lead many to doubt the effectiveness of this plan, yet nothing would stop governments and corporations from finding ways to limit the size of crews, and remove the ever-present chance of crew error.

The Robot Army

Unidentified Derelict, Sector Sixteen, T’Karan

Kanjana moved as carefully as possible, always wary of the fact that in every shadow could be an enemy machine. The shaft was narrow and barely navigable by a human. She was graceful, little different to a human ballet dancer, yet with the poise of somebody with years of experience. Kanjana was able to slip between the beams and cables with ease.

What's that?

Something pulsed to the right, and then a shape rushed past. Kanjana stopped and lifted her hand to make the others stop. The dark object appeared briefly through the grating to the right, and she watched it, its four legs groaning as it moved. This was no modern war machine. It was old, worn out technology, and every component seemed to grind as it moved. Even so, it was bigger than a man and carried a large firearm of unknown configuration. It stopped and twisted about, a single red lamp scanning the walls and looking like an evil eye. It made an odd sound and then continued onwards.

Kanjana relaxed, and her muscles released one by one, each carefully controlled after years of training and medication. She could hold her own in a fight, but she was neither trained nor equipped to deal with major combat. Though agile and fast, her true skills lay in the arts of technology, and it would be her mind that would provide the weapons, not her guns.

In the last ten hours Kanjana had traversed the derelict, taking numerous detours to avoid signs of the enemy machines. She could have reached the power units in half the time, but she suspected that would have gotten her killed. Behind her were two marines privates, Jarvis and Richards. All three of them took one step at a time, knowing that if they were spotted, they would be killed.

"Is this really necessary?" asked Richards, "We could have been back at the landing bay by now."

Jarvis, the younger of the pair, nodded quickly as he listened.

"Yeah. Spartan's gone dark, so why bother?"

Richards continued; feeling buoyed up by Jarvis' intervention.

"Captain Delatorre said the creature is gone. The Major and the others sacrificed themselves so we could live. So why bother carrying on with this?"

Kanjana stepped over a broken metal plate, and her foot make a slight crunching sound. It was quiet, and as the other two followed, they made at least twice the noise she did. Unlike her they wore the now standard issue, M-3 body armour. This state-of-the-art protection was good all round equipment, but it could not stand against constant battle with the machines. Kanjana wore substantially less, with the standard Alliance Navy issue PDS armour. Navy armour was primarily designed to offer a vacuum-sealed suit, with heaters, air circulation, and flash protection. The armour was substantially less thick, and it was not designed for the rigors of combat.

Kanjana twisted about, keeping her feet in the same position. She then slipped her right hand down to where the coil pistol sat in its holster. This was a gift from Spartan, one of the few prototype pistols that had shrunk the L52 carbine down to pistol size. It was bigger than a normal pistol, and its exterior an odd shape, due partially to the power core and barrel. She then slid her hand further down and pulled out a fighting knife. This was long, straight, and double-edged, much like the knives used by Commandos on Ancient Terra.

"Hush," said Kanjana.

Her voice was a whisper, little more than an echo in the dark passageway, but both marines halted in their tracks and reached for their firearms. Kanjana shook her head slowly and lifted the knife in front of her visor. At that moment a small aerial vehicle, little bigger than her head, drifted into view. It buzzed quietly as it entered the shaft and then scanned in the direction ahead of where they were going. Three small ducted-fans provided the lift, and Kanjana noted the thing looked suspiciously like the units used by the Maverick suits, but for reconnaissance.

Wait, what's that?

For a moment, Kanjana had relaxed at the sight of the reconnaissance drone. There was one detail that was off, and as she looked closer, she could see other pieces of equipment as well as wiring that had been fused directly with its body. It turned and began to move closer, and that was when she struck. A quick movement saw her blade punch up into one of the rotor units, and it quickly lost control. She then grabbed it and threw it to the floor, smashing her boot down hard on the thing.

"What? Why?" Richards mumbled.

Kanjana bent down and pulled at the wiring with her blade.

"Because it's been compromised. Now, keep moving. We have a job to do."

She moved away and completely ignored the questions they'd asked her. Until now it could have been assumed the enemy was defeated, or at the very least in hiding. This drone proved one thing them; the machines of the enemy were active, and that they were still looking for them.

Kanjana lifted a foot over a mound of electrical cabling, one of which had split and was sparking intermittently. Each time a spark touched the floor, it would send ripples of white and blue across its surface. By the time she had passed it the other two were close by, and also trying to pass over without touching it. Richards made it, but Jarvis tapped the flashing blue shapes with the heel of his boot. Patterns spread back into the shaft, and the sound of the mechanical creature began to increase.

"Run!" Kanjana said.

Ten paces were all it took to clear the shaft and she was out, and inside a wider passage. The two marines were close behind, and both had their carbines ready for battle. The machine sounded louder and louder as it homed in on the exit point of the shaft.

"Move it, marines!"

They made it another thirty metres when the thing burst out from behind a bulkhead seal. It opened fire with a weapon that emitted a scream of electrical energy in a burst. It looked like bolts of lightning as they crashed into Jarvis' armour, each impact sending incredible energy inside and cooking him alive. His screams sent Richards into a panic, and he stumbled back, falling flat onto his back.

"Fire!" Kanjana screamed.

She had already whipped out her pistol and opened fire. Unlike most pistols, this one was fully automatic and released magnetised slugs that punched small holes into the thing's structure. It appeared lightly armoured, and each strike caused some damage. The machine scuttled to the fallen Richards and lifted a hidden limb that extended out into a cruel looking spike.

"No!"

Kanjana rolled across the floor and grabbed the XC1 carbine that Jarvis had lost. She ducked under the first impact from the machine's limb and placed the muzzle on its carapace. One shot after another sent super-heated plasma deep into its core, pulverising its innards and melting wiring, metal, and motors with ease. As it thrashed about, it swung the spike towards her, the hardened tip heading for her lightly protected neck.

"I'm here!" Richards yelled.

He'd already lifted himself from the ground and jumped in its path. Either through luck or judgement, he managed to take the block on the shoulder, and the spike slid down, leave a deep gash almost half a metre long. Incredibly, it only punctured the outer layer. The impact was still enough to send him staggering backwards. Kanjana took the opportunity to fire six more shots. All of them slammed into its centre mass, obliterating what remaining of its control and power circuits. With a final shudder, it dropped to the ground like a dead spider.

"Look at that, what is it?"

Richards pointed at the point where the damaged machine touched the blue pulsing floor. Ripples were moving about its broken form, and it was already beginning to shudder. Both of them took aim and blasted it one after the other until little remained. Kanjana looked to the marine.

"That is why we keen on going. This creature has control of energy and equipment. Spartan wanted us there, to be able to disable the power on command, and that is what we're going to do. It might be the only way to buy time for our friends."

Richards still wasn't sure what the point was. But with Jarvis dead, and his ribs burning from the spike's impact down his body, he decided to stick to her suggestion.

"Okay. But you're going to have to explain to me something."

"What's that?"

He looked back and pointed at the machine. "What the hell is going on out here?"

* * *

Unidentified Derelict, Sector Sixteen, T’Karan

"Spartan...Spartan! Open your eyes, you fool!"

He opened his eyes and found Khan looking down at him. The JAS armour was battered to a degree he'd never seen before. There were jagged marks running along the chest as though a giant shark had bitten him. Dark patches marked with electricity had lashed about him, and blood ran from a dozen small puncture wounds.

"What...what happened?"

Spartan tried to sit up, and a dull agony rushed through his body. The armour automatically pumped in stimulants, painkillers, and a boost of adrenalin. He could already feel his muscles beginning to relax, and his body adjusting to the fact he'd been lying on his side and bent over a shattered machine, presumably for some time.

"It's gone. I think it's gone, anyway," said Khan.

Spartan looked about where they had fallen, but there was little left to mark the scene of their violent battle. Khan spoke again, but something else caught his attention. It wasn't Khan, but the sound coming from his internal communications.

"Wait, hold on," he said firmly.

The audio was difficult to make out, and he detected multiple voices, all distant and heavily distorted. Even this dazed and confused he knew it meant something violent was occurring.

"...dead...breaches, level five. Fall back behind the SAARs!"

Spartan immediately recognised the nervous orders from Lieutenant Anne Lee.

"More of them coming from below. Stay in your quadrants. Keep firing. You heard our orders. Nothing gets through, not one damned machine!"

Spartan felt a flutter of pride at her calm demeanour. Whatever had happened, it was obviously bad, and he suspected his entire force might have been overrun while he'd been away. What made it worse was that he was convinced they'd already won the battle. The sound corrupted badly, and then cut, only to return with a different person speaking.

"Two dead, three wounded. Falling back to the dropships."

"Lieutenant Kipling, there are more of them coming, and the barricades are not ready. I've only got eleven marines here, all of them are wounded, and we're running low on ammunition."

The sound of her voice was replaced by heavy breathing, and Spartan could hear her barking orders to her marines. Finally, her voice returned, but he could sense the shakiness to it. He activated the command network.

"All units, this is Spartan. Respond."

The confusion of voices was immediately silenced and replaced by the voice of the Lieutenant. Though the officers were technically of the same rank, it was clear she had taken over as the officer in charge.

"Major, we thought you were dead. The energy surge destroyed over fifteen decks and blew out the habitation dome. We assumed your team had been destroyed in the attack."

She swallowed uncomfortably.

"We received a single message from the Admiral Jarvis Naval Station. Help is coming. We have to hold on for another six hours until help arrives."

Spartan turned a little back at Khan.

"Six hours, how can they get here that fast?"

Khan shrugged, and his JAS armour groaned as he moved his muscles. Only then did the two of them spot the battered Maverick armour of Sergeant Tyler. He lifted up onto his feet and staggered towards them. Gashes in the armour were so deep it was possible to see him inside and his M-3 close-fitting body armour.