Star Crusades Nexus: Book 06 - Call to Arms (14 page)

“No, this will not work. Small caliber, conventional weaponry is not the solution.”

Spartan noticed a vein on the Captain’s neck started to pulse.

Good work, Khan.

“Enough!” grumbled the man. “We will be at Mars in less than forty-eight hours. I suggest you check your own equipment and review the layout for the base.”

Spartan looked to Khan and again at the Captain.

“What? You want us to leave? We only just got here.”

The room fell silent, and Spartan glanced quickly into the centre of the mission bay. All of the soldiers had stopped whatever they were doing and had turned their attention to the noisy disagreement.

 
Here it comes.

Spartan knew only too well that the Captain would now have to do something or risk looking impotent in front of his men.

“I don’t care what you two did in a previous life. Out here you’re just a pair of old men with a knack for getting into trouble. My boys are more than capable of doing this job.”

Khan began to move, but Spartan placed his hand on his friend’s arm.

“No, not today,” he said in a whisper.

The Captain looked back to his men.

“Let’s run over the landing and dispersal drill again. On your markers!”

As the men ran about to the pre-arranged positions, the Captain turned his head sharply toward them.

“I need your experience on the operation, but I don’t need you. That’s why both of you will be staying in orbit during this mission.”

Spartan looked at him and grinned, much to the man’s annoyance.

“That’s no problem, Captain. When your boys get whipped, just remember to give us a call.”

* * *

The barrack structure on Prometheus was one of a dozen similar locations spread throughout the base. Multiple rooms were attached to the central area, with sleeping quarters and weapons lockers fitted at regular intervals. In the center of the main room was a line of PDS Alpha armor suits, each one fitted around a metal frame for quick access. Only a handful remained in the barracks as Teresa moved out through the door and into the wide passageway.

“Watch your feet!” shouted a worker from his position on top of a tracked vehicle.

Teresa stepped to the side as the yellow vehicle trundled past her. It was a similar size to the military Bulldog vehicles but was fitted with hardened rubber tracks and a digger blade to the front. Red lights on the front and back flashed as it moved quickly and then twisted about, making its way along one of the many long passageways. Behind it ran a group of six Jötnar, all of them in their dark red armor. They carried massive rifles the size of the gun fitted to an armored personnel carrier. Teresa checked the status indicators inside her PDS armor and then activated the communication network to the rest of the Alliance forces. The digital network expanded out to nearby combat units and permeated throughout the entire base in less than fifteen seconds.

Good, we’re ready.

She passed small squads of marines as they grabbed their gear and then headed for their pre-selected zones, all without any intervention by her. That was the simplicity and what she hoped could be the strength of the defense, its ability to operate fluidly and independently of central command. One thing Teresa had learned over the years was that a rigid chain of command led to inaction, especially in the heat of combat. For this fight, the junior officers would command the battle, not her. Teresa reached the wide-open central plaza at the heart of the underground facility at the same time as Olik. Marines and crew ran to and fro, but she was pleased to see they all moved with a purpose. There was no sense of panic, just of urgency and professionalism. Two squads of marines waited in two rows; all standing to attention and with their carbines at their shoulders.

So it begins.

Captain Rivers appeared from one of the massive doorways to the right that led down into one of the many tendrils extending out to hangars and barrack buildings. Teresa had often likened the place to something reminiscent of an octopus.

“Colonel,” he called out as he moved at a fast jog. A single fireteam of marines ran with him, and they and stopped when making it as far as Olik.

“All units are in position, Captain. It’s just our reserve that remains here.”

Teresa already had her secpad out and was busy examining the spider shaped layout of the base. There were eight long legs that extended out in a star shape and ran deep into the rock of Prometheus. All of them were equipped with multiple entry points and hangar doors leading to the surface.

“They are getting close.”

She looked to her officers and stopped upon seeing the Jötnar.

“Olik, your people, are they ready?”

In the distance, she could see the shapes of an entire platoon of heavily armed and armored Jötnar coming toward them. Olik looked in their direction and then to her.

“We are more than ready. We are itching for some action. I have my platoon here at the center and another squad positioned two hundred meters back from each entrance.”

“Good.”

The Jötnar wore the same armor as the Red Watch on the rest of the planet, much to Teresa’s amusement. It allowed them a full degree of movement, yet still offered their large size a fully protected and sealed environment with modest ballistic protection.

“Very pretty,” she said with a smile.

Olik looked at his comrades and then to her.

“We’d rather use our own armor from Hyperion, but this equipment is smaller and better suited for combat in a cramped station. Plus, we have our new guns.”

Teresa had wondered what exactly the Jötnar were carrying. Unlike the normal equipment, they all held large firearms, each around the size of a marine and much too big to be carried by anybody other than a Jötnar warrior. The body was short and extended into a ring of five snug barrels. A pair of thick ammunition feeds ran from the gun and around the flanks of each of them to a large backpack unit built into the rear of their armor.

“Okay, Olik, what the hell are those things?”

Olik feigned insult.

“What, these things?” he asked, holding up his weapon.

Teresa grinned.

“Well, the reports from Helios confirmed the use of these new guns for use in the Jötnar units and heavy marine battalions. Gun himself recommended them in his after action report.”

Of course he did.

Teresa was hardly surprised. As she looked at the weapon, she noted the profile matched the primary weapon mount fitted on some of the Bulldog vehicles. From memory, it was an L56 Mark III weapon, one of the newest pieces of equipment being fitted to frontline vehicles. Teresa looked away but then spotted two of the Jötnar were carrying an even more ridiculous looking weapon. This time it was a single barreled device, but much longer and fitted with four pairs of thick power cables that attached somewhere on the back of the armor.

“And that?”

Now Olik did look a little sheepish.

“We’re testing these; they’re the latest model 60mm railgun from the Bulldogs.”

One of the other Jötnar pointed the weapon up in the air.

“Perfect for materiel destruction!””

He was evidently very pleased with his new toy, and Teresa found it almost impossible for her to disguise her amusement, so she looked around at the vast open passageways that were big enough to fly a Mauler through. Cramped was hardly the word she would have used to describe it.

“They’re here!” called out a man in a gray pair of overalls. He was off to the right.

Teresa glanced at him and then to her motley group of warriors.

“You know the plan, people. We’re the reserve, now let’s get to that machine!”

She’d only made it a few meters when Olik blocked her path.

“Excuse me, Sir, but shouldn’t we be putting you in a secure location?”

Teresa shook her head and nodded in the direction of their objective.

“No, Olik. You know the Moratos. We’re not the kind of people who stay at the rear and direct the battle. The Commander of the battalion will conduct the perimeter defense. You and I will ensure that if any stragglers make it through, they will be stopped.”

She pointed off in into the distance.

“This central hub is the key to the station. None can make it through to the ship. Understood?”

An approving chorus of acknowledgements met Teresa.

"Good, then let's do this. I want to see a win for a change!"

The establishment of the Red Watch, the aptly named Heavy Marine Corps Battalion, was the first official Alliance unit to emphasize the strengths and benefits of the Jötnar in combat units. This elite unit combined not only the brute strength and aggression of the Jötnar, but also combined them with the best modern armor and weaponry in the Corps. By modifying existing vehicle mounted weapons, a whole new arsenal of close and long-ranged weapons would be used to equip this new force. In the Great Uprising, the Marine Corps had relied upon men and women with small arms to win wars. Now the Corps would feature the same as well as Vanguards and Jötnar in almost equal numbers.

Equipment of the Alliance Marine Corps

The central hub was as large as a city plaza and based around a series of colonnade structures that were primarily there to function as ceiling supports. The middle was a sunken hexagonal area that could easily have been a pool. Instead, its perimeter had been enhanced with low walls and precut positions for the heavy weapons that were now fitted throughout. When she’d been sitting there earlier, her mind had been elsewhere, but now she knew the exact configuration based on the blueprints shown to her by the Admiral and Commander Osk. The defenses were impressive, made more so but her insistence that as many heavy weapons were installed as could be found.

“No, I will stay with you and the main reserve in this central plaza. This is the key battleground, and the Biomechs will know this. Don’t forget, it was through their planning that Prometheus was mined and developed to start with.”

He bowed his head slightly, the classic sign of respect amongst the Jötnar.

“Yes, Colonel.”

His words reminded her of Gun, and she felt a pang of loss that her old friend wasn’t going to be around for this battle.

“We have at least an hour before we can expect any kind of effective ground assault. We will use that time to reinforce our defenses further.”

She looked to Captain Rivers.

“Stay here and get at least twice as many heavy weapons in position.”

He looked surprised at her request.

“Sir? We already have a heavy weapon for every ten fighters.”

“Exactly,” Teresa answered.

The Captain said nothing for a moment, and Teresa appeared to become agitated.

“I’ve seen the weapon inventory here. Prometheus isn't just being used as a shipyard, is it? Even ten years ago it was a factory world for the Alliance. There are crates of weapons in the lower docks.”

“But, Colonel, those are all designated for Alliance shipments to the…”

“Really?”

The Captain saluted quickly and sharply.

“Yes, Colonel. It will be done.”

The last thing Teresa was concerned with right now was the potential problem she might be causing for Alliance logistics. As far as she was concerned, if Prometheus wasn’t held, then the weapons would either be destroyed, or more likely used by the enemy against them.

“Now, the rest of you come with me. I want to see how the defenses at the Biomech hangar are coming on.”

Olik recognized the importance of keeping his commander somewhere safe, but the idea of his Colonel staying alongside him and his fighters seemed to make him happy. Even better though was the tour of more of the layered defenses they had rushed into service. The only part that didn’t seem to impress him was the fact they would be so far from the frontline.

“Everything is ready then, follow me.”

With that, she marched away, and the odd assortment of Jötnar and marines moved with her. It was only a few minutes for them to reach the hangar, and she was pleased to see that a squad had already heaped up two layers of masonry around the large doors to shelter the marines protecting it. Portable defense units had been installed to bolster its strength, and there were four tripod-mounted weapons guarding the open approach.

Not bad,
she thought.

She returned the salute of the men and women as they continued their preparations and then passed through the large doorway and into the massive open space. There before her was the ship that the Admiral had arrived on board, and inside it waited the precious cargo the enemy had apparently put so much faith in.

“Where is the Admiral?” asked Captain Rivers.

Teresa didn’t stop and continued away from the doorway and toward the circular defensive line that had been built in the last three hours. The shape was basic and included six small bastions, each large enough to accommodate a dozen marines and a few heavy weapons. A wall nearly a meter high joined them together and created a barrier that ran around three quarters of the ship. Over half of the defense line had been erected using the large shipping containers, each one large enough to house an entire Bulldog vehicle. The unprotected front of the ship pointed directly toward the massive layered blast doors that led out into a wide shaft. That in turn moved up to the surface.

“Are her weapons active?”

A crewman leaned over from the side of the ship and shouted back down.

“Commander Osk had us network the forward gun systems into the defense grid. If anything gets the outer door open, it will have to deal with the entire forward arsenal on this ship.”

He twisted about and pointed to the multiple turrets and gunports. In space they would be modest at best, but in the confines of a hangar deep inside an industrial world, they would prove undoubtedly powerful.

“Excellent work, people. I think we might have a chance here.”

It was almost as though the universe wanted to punish Teresa the minute she started to calm down. The communication system inside her armor activated, and an image of the Admiral popped up on one side.

“Unidentified vessels have emerged from the storm regions. Prepare yourselves for what is about to come.”

“We’re ready,” she said, looking back at the well-arranged defenses. There was an odd look to her face though, and it was just as well the partially mirrored visor on her helmet blocked her facial expressions to those a short distance away.

“Because when we win this thing, and Prometheus is secured, I’m going to be taking Osk, a battalion of Jötnar, and any of my marines that will follow me to Sol. And if anybody tries to get in my way…”

She clenched her fists inside the armored suit.

“…there will be hell to pay.”

* * *

The operations room on board the Dauntless was less than inspiring and reminded Spartan of a throwback to military commands centuries earlier. If he’d given it any real thought, he might have remembered that the ship was much older than that. There must have been a water leak somewhere because damp vapor had managed to affix itself onto so many of the internal surfaces. Spartan could smell the damp in the air, and it reminded him of so many places, where he’d taken shelter in warzones, places like Prime and Hyperion.

Hyperion,
he thought happily.

It was an odd thought, and there were probably very few people that would see a place like that violent and dangerous jungle world as anything but a deathtrap. He had more than just wartime memories of it though. Spartan and Teresa had spent many times on that world alongside their friends, including Gun and Khan. The great hunts were unlike anything else in the Alliance and had a knack for bringing people together.

Or getting them mutilated and killed!

He looked back at the small space being used as the operations room and sniffed the air once more. Due to the need for artificial gravity, it had been attached to the mission module. This meant a reduced size, but at least they weren’t drifting about the ship.

“How much longer?” Khan asked.

Unlike Spartan, who now wore a pair of military surplus camouflaged pants and an Earthsec black jacket, Khan was dressed in something rather less inspiring. Incredibly, the workers on Earth had managed to supply him with absurdly large black boots they had cut open, extended, and then reinforced with metal plating on the sides. The toes were encased in steel, and although it looked primitive, he felt quite proud of them. More hastily modified clothing that was then covered up by separate thin sections made from riot armor and strapped into place, protected his lower body. Spartan saw him examining the protection around his knees and laughed.

“What?” Khan complained.

“Why are you wearing all of that? I doubt the armor would stop a crossbow bolt.”

Khan shrugged.

“Probably true.”

He then gave Spartan one of his infamous lopsided grins.

“But it looks nasty, and that works for me.”

Khan’s arms were bare, but his chest was wrapped in what could only be described as a dark gray vest and padded armor plates tied directly to his torso. It was a mess, and most of it he’d had to bring with him to put on once aboard the ship. Spartan recalled the looks from the other men upon seeing Khan dressed in his improvised garb. Only one had been foolish enough to comment.

What was his name?
Spartan thought.
Jenson, I think. Well, he won’t make that mistake again!

The gear Khan had chosen to use actually reminded Spartan of the kinds of equipment chosen by the Jötnar on Hyperion for their annual Biomech hunts. Of course, those were a mixture of ritual and sport, and it was expected that the armor would protect them just a little. After all, what was the point of a blood sport if the other side had no chance of winning? Gun had often complained to him that he expected the animals to have at least as good a chance of winning as his own people. If not, how was it a sport?

He had a point, more a ritual killing, in my opinion.

Spartan shook his head and began to wonder why his mind had shifted from the operation to what Gun thought about hunting on Hyperion. He looked down at his new left arm. It was proving useful, if a little clumsy. More importantly, he was now complete, even if his body ached from the numerous fractures and bone breaks he’d sustained in captivity.

Get a grip and focus!

The seating was designed for human crews of centuries past, and Khan had taken to sitting on a pair of ammunition crates he’d unceremoniously dragged into the room. If any of the senior officers had remained there may have been a complaint, but with just Lieutenant Jenkins staying behind, there was nobody to counter order the two. The man leaned in closer and tapped the icons on the touch screen. Spartan shook his head at the speed and antiquity of the technology on offer.

“Three more minutes. They will come down here, right on the flank of the shuttle landing station.”

Spartan felt something and turned his head about to look around. The ship was unlike anything he had served on before. It wasn’t the age of the vessel either. It was the way the entire thing had been run. Normally, the ship would be crewed by a captain of some type with a crew of experienced people. The combat team or assault party was almost always a separate element with its own commanders. Earthsec did things very differently, and although there was a small number of crew on board, so far he hadn’t seen any kind of commander outside of Captain Cobb, who was in charge of the ground element.

“Hey, who is in charge of this ship, anyway?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Lieutenant Jenkins smiled.

“I wondered when you would get to that.”

He indicated with his thumb to the rest of the ship.

“The crew is nothing more than technicians. They have their individual stations and report to the command system on the ship. Course changes, corrections, and mission planning are all done on Earth.”

“Okay, but who sets the course or docks the ship? Surely you don’t leave time-critical tasks like that to your bureaucrats back on Earth?”

Khan looked around, equally confused.

“Yeah, if something goes wrong, who makes a decision?”

Lieutenant Jenkins shook his head as if he’d just heard a private joke.

“No, it doesn’t work like that out here. You see; Earthsec is very rigid. All official transport is controlled from back on Earth. There is no captain on this ship because the computers on Dauntless are commanded directly from people on the ground.”

“I knew it,” Khan muttered, “Didn’t I tell you?”