Ghost Soldiers (7 page)

“Yes, home,” Five-Seven agreed.

Spartan smiled at the Thegn. They often seemed little more than children when it came to their understanding of emotion and the subtleties of communication. He barely even noticed Captain Delatorre sitting further back and overseeing the command of the ship. It was the only solution to having Thegns on board, and though a complication, it seemed to be working. Five-Seven would technically be unable to be in command of a warship, not until he completed the rest of his training, but he could operate as the Captain’s executive officer, or any other role among the crew.

One thing Spartan had learnt since the war was that the Thegns were quick learners, and the next best thing to having machines run the ship. There was a reason Thegn crews were earning such a reputation in the merchant navy circles, even amidst the bitter racism and xenophobia present there.

Although not his idea, the creation of the separate branch of the military was perfect for the odd situation in Taxxu. Unlike the regular Navy, the Auxiliary was a civilian-manned fleet, made up of vessels to supply the Alliance Navy with fuel, ammunition, and supplies; as well as to transport Marine and Navy personnel and equipment. Some of the ships were retired warships, the majority dominated by alien transports and freighters, who under the authority of the Navy Auxiliary had been granted a new lease of life. Those serving in this new fleet were expected to work under Naval discipline, just as they were aboard IAS Euryale.

In any other part of the Alliance, one might have expected to see dozens of civilian ships waiting to watch the return of powerful military warships. That wasn’t the case this far away from civilization. The Black Rift was a long way from the worlds of the Helions, and even further from any of the human worlds of the Alliance. There was also the issue of the ship being part of a new, relatively secretive part of the Marine Corps. Few would want to publicise the arrival or departure of such divisive figures as Spartan, or that members of the crew were Thegns. The ancient domain of Taxxu was the perfect location to base a high-speed assault force, well away from prying eyes.

The handful of escorts waited near the Rift as IAS Euryale left the Helion System. The ship moved through slowly, vanishing from view as it re-materialised an impossible distance away and deep into the home system of the defeated Biomechs, Taxxu. With the enemy long gone, it was now the domain of the remaining Twelve, led by On’Sarax, the leader of the ancient rebels. Though technically the domain of The Twelve, On’Sarax and the others were only interested in the survival of the few that remained, as well as a peaceful solution to the vast numbers of Thegns still in storage. They had granted full military access to the Alliance, on the one condition that The Twelve were guaranteed both freedom and protection. With the wisdom and technology of these ancient beings offered freely, there were few who would argue against the secretive agreement, or against Taxxu becoming one of the newest and most unlikely star systems in the Alliance. With just one intact planet and a number of moons, it would seem to be of little interest. But that was just a minor detail. Taxxu was far enough away from everywhere else to be the perfect location for military science and engineering projects. Spartan recalled a news article he’d heard recently and smiled.

The workshop of the galaxy, some are calling it. And what was it? The site of the last battle of the war. All of this began because the four of us made the deal with On’Sarax.

He shook his head, recalling that meeting. It had been short, but the principle was simple. The four of them would ensure On’Sarax and her people would be kept undisturbed, and they would control access to anything she would show them. It gave them leverage, and now the four owned the controlling share of the Special Weapons Division.

Incredible.

They moved out of the Spacebridge and into the completely different star system. Just the one vessel came through, but ever since the action on Karnak, the Taxxu System had been transformed, and now it was one of the best-defended sectors in the Alliance. IAS Euryale was a veritable hive of activity. Dozens of support ships moved back and forth to the entrance, and a space station sat in orbit over Taxxu Prime. It was only partially assembled, yet well underway, with the long fingers of docking arms already complete.

“Enough space to dock an entire battle group, right here.”

Five-Seven waited until he’d finished speaking.

“The training facility on Z’Kanthu is well under way now as well.”

The alien nodded off to the right where the largest of the planet’s moons could just about be seen. It had been renamed by the remaining Twelve, in honour of their fallen leader, and was now the focus of the rebuilding process in this region. Spartan was still amazed at the change in the place. It had become a bizarre amalgam of human and alien, and was perhaps the most diverse place in the entire Alliance. Of all the structures around the planet, one more than any stood out. The monolithic Kha’Dri World Ship was the largest vessel in sight, the home of the Special Weapons Division created by CTC, and now fully under Alliance control.

“Good work, everybody. Let’s get her docked, and get our feet back on Terra firma,” said Spartan.

He turned away from the mainscreen and the imagery of the World Ship and made for the door. Though in charge of the ground element of the operation, Spartan had no involvement the spacecraft part. He left that to the Naval and Auxiliary personnel on board.

“Affirmative,” Five-Seven replied.

The ship had been described by one Alliance Captain; as looking like a bastardised assault rifle. It was true. The experimental X-45 Confederate class of warship was nothing as aesthetically pleasing as the Crusader class before it. Even so, the new class of ship had something far more military and foreboding about it. As it moved further from the Rift, it followed a series of marker buoys that signalled the newly designated shipping lanes to the shipyards.

Nobody would ever accuse the ship of looking unwarlike. Her lines were predatory, as were her vast number of weapon mounts that covered her from bow to stern. Like the rest of in her class, she was over four hundred metres long, and would weigh over eighty thousand tons in Earth standard gravity. The vessel passed a docked Liberty class destroyer, and only then did the vast bulk and sheer ugliness of the ship become clear. Whereas the older ships had smooth and obvious lines, the Confederate class was more of a work in progress. The middle section was filled with grooves, which could be hiding hangar doors or weapons. The bulbous bow was hidden behind the long antenna and gantries, extending out as though the ship was unfinished. The most unusual and off-putting part was not the weapons, or the hull, but instead the drive system. The entire rear of the ship was taken up by a massive pair of rings, specially designed to assist in the creation of the distortion of space-time, and making near light-speed possible.

With a single and final course correction, the ship moved onto its docking vector, closer and closer to the World Ship. A single group of Alliance fighters did a quick pass overhead, checking the configuration and details of the vessel before it could move to close to the massive vessel. Even they might have been surprised to see the newly painted lettering on her hull. Gone were the traditional Alliance markings. This ship was now clearly part of the independent Interstellar Assault Brigade.

Drone control continually evolves and is at the forefront of scientific development. It is not simply enough to be able to manage, control, and issue orders to robotic war machines. It is also imperative that the enemy is unable to do the same. A conventional warship or fighter is as loyal and reliable as the men or women that crews it. The single biggest argument against massed use of drones in warfare was this one, ever-present fear. Could a battalion of computer-controlled warships or foot soldiers be trusted to remain loyal? Ultimately, this would result in the AI Amendment Laws being introduced in the Alliance. The one most significant legal change was that no autonomous machine could be armed, to prevent machines ever being able to turn on their creators. This led to the renaissance in virtual presence robotics, exemplified in the form of the CD1 Grunt, a quantum leap in technology and created by the Special Weapons Division.

Robots in Space

Kha’Dri World Ship, Taxxu Prime, Centauri Alliance

The journey from Spascia had been a long one, and the return to Taxxu was something Spartan had been greatly looking forward to. Just over forty weeks ago he’d been on Karnak with a handful of his machines, and now the Brigade was well on the way to being an actual entity, and one that could help make a difference in times of peril.

Almost there!

The outer door remained shut, but already Spartan knew the ship was docked and her mooring clamps fully connected. For anybody else, stepping out into this ship might seem strange, but not to him. Spartan had travelled the galaxy and made his home on planets, moons, and ships. This place was little different to him. Except out here he was in charge of his own destiny, and even better, he had his friends around him. A final seal clunked, and the door began to open up.

Finally.

Footsteps behind him announced the arrival of several of the marines, as well as the huge form of Khan. Spartan tilted back and nodded.

“I see you finally made it. Thought you’d nodded off back there.”

Khan grumbled just as the ramp dropped down, and the interior of the warship was bathed with bright light. All of them lifted their hands to cover their eyes for a moment, waiting for them to adjust.

“She is one hell of a ship,” said Khan.

Normally a vessel like Euryale would dock externally, but due to the massive size of the alien ship, it was possible to place multiple capital ships inside its spacious shipyard area. The World Ship was much like an orbital station, and more in common with habitable moons than with a ship. A decade ago it had been the home to his archenemy, but now it was his home, and being away from the politics of the human core worlds was just a bonus to him. He walked down the warship’s ramp and to the deck of the World Ship, with Khan, Lieutenant Armstrong, and Sergeant Tyler right behind him. All of them were now out of their heavy Maverick and JAS armour, and back to the tunics of the Alliance Marines Corps. Even Khan wore something resembling Alliance uniform, though his personal modifications and bandolier gave him more of an unkempt mercenary look.

“Well, look who we have here.”

Waiting at the bottom of the ramp were a variety of personnel, but one stood out more than any other as she waited there, blocking off the others from view.

“On’Sarax, it is good to see you.”

The huge machine moved subtly in acknowledgement. A single red light flickered as her synthesized voice spoke in flawless English.

“Welcome home, to you all.”

On her left was another machine, one Spartan had seen only rarely. It was larger than her and looked like a brutal war machine. Lieutenant Armstrong leaned in close and whispered, “Which one is that?”

Spartan continued to look at those arrayed in front of them while answering.

“That is Vikas.”

He then began to descend the ramp.

“He killed four Ghost Warriors in the last battle. I saw him take weapon impacts from every direction back then.”

He then glanced quickly back.

“He should have died back then, but the skills of On’Sarax are unsurpassed. There would be only two of us alive today if it were not for her medical skill.”

They continued on to the bottom, and though Spartan nodded at the machines, he made sure he kept away from the larger of the two. He nodded politely, making sure that of all present, On’Sarax received his greeting first.

“On’Sarax, it is good to be home.”

The red light flickered as he spoke. Where On’Sarax was the thinking machine, the one that had held together the last of her race, Vikas, was the opposite. Strong, violent, and more than a little hot headed; he was much more like Spartan than he liked to admit. Vikas was certainly the most powerful of The Twelve, but also partially psychotic. On’Sarax had tried to repair the damage, but it was not biological. It seemed the issue was due to long-term exposure to violence.

Spartan had seen the horrors of war, but nothing like those faced by Vikas. The warrior machine had fought for hundreds of years and seen millions of his kin destroyed. The worst part was that he was one of those that had been frozen in time, drifting in the human Solar System and waiting to be awoken. Unlike his brothers, he was the only one that remained conscious for the process. A technical failure meant his mind had been free while his body was frozen, and over centuries his mind fractured and broke apart.

“Spartan,” said Vikas.

It was nothing more than an acknowledgement, but that was still much more than Spartan was used to. He used the opportunity to stand closer to the machine and to lower his head.

“Vikas. Our mission was successful. The equipment prevented casualties, just as we intended. It was a great victory.”

Two lights flashed on the machine’s armour, but it was the synthesised voice of On’Sarax that answered.

“Vikas thanks you.”

Again, Spartan nodded and then looked to the smart looking Mr Walker, the senior CTC executive, and the company’s man on the inside of the running of the secretive and high lucrative Special Weapons Division. He was one of the few CTC men Spartan could stomach, and it had taken a lot of negotiation to establish a relationship he would even consider with the man. It was the only way he could obtain the finances and support needed to develop the life saving arms and armour he and the others had been working on.

“Spartan, good to have you back. Vikas has been working with us on the first of the Tomb Ships.”

Spartan turned to the two marines following him.

 
“Lieutenant, get them all cleaned up and ready for debriefing. A lot of questions are going to be asked about this operation, and I want them awake and ready to answer them.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Lieutenant Armstrong.

The two marines were gone by the time Spartan’s feet touched the deck of the World Ship. Spartan paused for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being off the ship. There was little difference between the two, but for now, the World Ship was at least something of a home; more than could be said of the rather utilitarian IAS Euryale. He stopped in front of the three of them, greeting the machines before answering the CTC executive.

“I wasn’t aware we’d been given clearance to open up any of the ships. Are they not all still sealed? Without new genetic material, are they unable to be repaired?”

“Indeed, you are correct,” said Mr Walker.

He looked to the two machines.

“On’Sarax selected this one particular Tomb Ship from the vast number in orbit. According to her, it contains the remains of six warriors, heroes of the rebellion, and all of them broken beyond repair. We are investigating the possibility of using cell regeneration techniques, along with several experimental ideas of The Twelve.”

Spartan lifted an eyebrow.

“To what end? Are these not the fallen soldiers of the enemy?”

On’Sarax moved around the CTC executive to face Spartan, who now needed to turn around.

“That is true, but they are not inherently evil. It is my desire to find an ethical way to restore our long-dormant kin to life, once more. One day, Taxxu Prime will be terraformed, and the few of us that remain will stand on solid ground once more. The casualties of past wars might have committed great crimes, but they are not beyond redemption.”

Vikas shuddered, and one of the marines nearby took a single step away from the machine. Spartan looked to him, but he said nothing. Instead, On’Sarax spoke on his behalf.

“As you know, Vikas rarely speaks outside of The Twelve, and when he does, it rarely makes sense.”

She lifted two of her right arms and placed them against the plating of the machine.

“Vikas says he looks forward to the day The Twelve will be reborn. It is his wish that we will be an important part of this new Alliance. As we benefit, so will you.”

Spartan smiled.

“Thank you, Vikas. I look forward to that day, too.”

Both machines faced each other, and Spartan could only imagine what conversation they were having. The use of oral communication was clearly something they only did when around those incapable of any other kind. Alliance engineers suspected the machines could communicate wirelessly, but so far any attempts to find out how had proven impossible. Spartan had been a staunch defender of their privacy, and refused any attempts at research of experimentation on them, on pain of cancelling the agreement with On’Sarax. It was no idle threat, either. The technology commanded by The Twelve was vast, but it was also hidden deep within the ancient equipment, ships, and technology in Taxxu. Without a guide such as On’Sarax, it would take millennia to unlock its secrets. There was also the issue of over a million Thegns that had been freed from their bonds by The Twelve after fighting on behalf of the Alliance. Though free, they still considered The Twelve to be nothing short of Gods, and that meant they had to be placated. To keep the Thegns in line meant to keep the remainder of The Twelve happy.

Spartan smiled, trying to imagine the conversations taking place on Terra Nova. He’d seen the kind of racism shown to the Jötnar following the fighting in the Uprising, but it was something very different with the Thegns. These creatures were bred for battle and numbered in vast legions. If led astray, they had the power and numbers to be a serious problem.

The only real weakness of this artificial species was their inability to fight a space-borne battle, and therefore to move from world to world. Spartan suspected this had a lot to do with the growing strength of the Navy, and the refusal to allow Thegns to serve on many front-line warships. As the machines spoke in silence, Spartan took the opportunity to turn to Mr Walker.

“And how does CTC benefit from all of this?”

Mr Walker simply smiled.

“The benefits of cellular rejuvenation have kept you in fighting form, where in the past you would be retired. These new techniques could go much further. We are looking at organ and limb replacement, perhaps even a complete halt to the issue of aging.”

On’Sarax uttered a sound, and Mr Walker lowered his head a little, as though apologising.

“For now it is all research, but as for the future, there is always profit in life.”

He then smiled, the expression that seemed to match the corporate world so well.
 
A voice came from behind, along with the thud of heavy footsteps.

“And even more in death.”

The voice was harsh and grim, yet as Spartan heard it, his face seemed to light up. Spartan nodded politely to the alien machines, and then moved around them to find another Jötnar heading towards him. This one wore his uniform with a little more panache even though it was still decorated with extra plates of armour. As might be expected from the Jötnar, two other similarly dressed warriors flanked him. Spartan moved to the largest and stopped directly in front.

“Commander Gun.”

The warrior mumbled, lifting an eyebrow as Spartan continued.

“I thought you were busy talking politics on Terra Nova?”

“Something like that.”

Khan moved up from where he’d been listening to Mr Walker and grasped his old friend by the arm. For anybody else watching it may have seen a little violent, not even particularly friendly. Spartan noticed the large warrior wince a little after contact.

“That pin prick still hurting you?”