Star Crusades Nexus: Book 06 - Call to Arms (5 page)

* * *

Spartan sat on the bed and looked at the device the technician proposed fitting to his severed arm. There were plenty of marines in the Alliance that had been fitted with donor limbs and even organs if the need arose. It was very rare, however, for the fitting of augmented limbs or body parts, especially since the war against the Echidna Union. More than enough people still distrusted the Jötnar, even after their sacrifices to end the War. The fitting of technology directly to the body would allow the creation of more powerful and potentially more dangerous people. He looked back at the device and couldn’t help but smile.

Maybe it isn’t so bad.

“Very pretty,” Khan said, trying to be helpful.

Spartan had imagined the team on Earth would be able to fit some kind of exotic device, but instead it was something more akin to a small claw attached to an engineering machine. It was jointed and could pivot shut but not with any great level of precision. It was slightly bigger than his hand had been and was based around two fingers and a thumb fitted around a central cylinder section; all built from a lightweight unpainted alloy. The fingertips had a thin rubber material to help with grip, and the back of the hand was open and exposed to show the wiring and motors.

“Well, what do you think?” asked the technician.

“Uh…do you not have something a little, well, more lifelike?”

The man looked offended at the question.

“This is the best we have. With a simple neural linkup, you will have full motor control of the lower limb and hand within a few days. I can make a few tweaks, and then we’ll fit this over the top.”

The man opened a cabinet and pulled out an odd pale jelly material. He placed it on the desk and it flattened out under its own weight.

“It takes less than an hour to mould it to create a reversed match for your other hand.”

Spartan reached out and touched the lukewarm material. It was clearly supposed to replicate flesh but instead left him feeling a little queasy. He looked to Khan who just grinned back.

“Hey, maybe we could fit some weapons on that thing. You know, man it up a bit?”

His friend was trying to be helpful, but at that particular moment, it sounded more like a cruel joke. The material did seem odd, but the hand was more of a small robotic pincer than anything he’d seen before.

“Would you want one of these?”

Khan nodded excitedly.

“Of course. It looks better than the one they took from you, and it could be handy in a fight.”

Spartan thought about it for a moment.

“Okay, let’s fit this on.”

The man pointed at the base of the unit.

“You have two choices when it comes to fitment. Either we can use a strap system to attach it to your elbow. Or we can go for the more direct route.”

He pointed at Spartan’s elbow.

“What do you mean?”

The technician brought up a set of schematics on his screen and enlarged a metal structure that looked very similar to bone.

“We can mount a support unit directly onto your elbow. It is small and would fuse directly to the joint. At the base would be this triple pinned socket, and you could just clip the arm on whenever you wanted to use it.”

Spartan actually quite liked the idea of having the unit as more a part of him, but it was the expression on the man’s face that put him off.

I don’t know him, so why would I let him root around inside my arm?

“No, the straps will do fine for now. You can still connect it up via the neural link?”

“Of course.”

Spartan watched him carefully, noticing how his body language had shifted slightly, as if he had been disappointed by the decision taken by Spartan.

Who cares? It’s my arm, and I don’t trust any of you down here.

The video communication panel flashed, and the technician immediately turned from his patient and toward the unit. With a hand gesture, it changed to show a serious looking Governor Trelleck.

“Is Spartan there?”

The man nodded.

“Yes, Governor, I have Spartan and the Biomech here.”

Spartan winced at the man’s use of the word. It wasn’t because he was worried for Khan. On the contrary, he was far more concerned about what he would do. As expected, his friend reached out and tapped the man on the shoulder. He twisted about and glared at him.

“I’m busy, can’t you…”

Khan’s fist finished the man’s question when it connected directly with his nose. The man was knocked to the ground, stunned, and knocked out cold by the blow. Blood streamed out around him from the wound. Spartan pushed the man aside and approached the screen. He could see the worry on the man’s face, and it wasn’t because of what they had just done. Spartan had seen the expressions on people’s faces before that matched what he was seeing right now.

“Governor, we’re here. What’s wrong?”

The man’s muscles in his face tightened just a little.

“It’s Mars.”

Spartan looked at Khan, but his friend was already next to him.

“You don’t say,” said the Jötnar.

“What about it?”

The Governor took in a long, slow breath before answering.

“A Biomech machine has taken control of the main mining facility. The soldiers are dead, and the rest of the colonists have vanished.”

Khan shook his head in frustration.

“Governor, we told you this would happen.”

Spartan nodded in agreement.

“That’s true. Now the machines have control of the colony and its resources. They will start harvesting as soon as possible, and then you can say goodbye to the rest of this star system.”

“Harvesting?”

Spartan gave the Governor a grim smile in reply.

“Of course. The machines will use your citizens as fodder for their Biomech factories. Once their equipment is ready, it will take just a few weeks, and then they will be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

Khan knew exactly what was coming, and even he didn’t relish the prospect.

“They will consume every facility and compound on Mars. When it is theirs, they will then do the same for every planet and moon in Sol.”

Spartan looked even less impressed.

“Governor, by closing the Rift you blocked our ability to contact Terra Nova or to ask for help. Mars isn’t ready for a war against these things.”

He looked at the mechanical hand and forearm on the desk in front of him and picked it up to examine it. Even he was well aware of the irony involved in fitting a machine augmentation to his body.

“And when Sol has fallen, they will reopen the Rift and send their reinforcements in to open a second front against the Alliance.”

The Governor paused and wiped his brow.

“Can you stop them?”

Spartan smiled at this.

“Removing Biomechs is our specialty.”

The Governor closed his eyes, his face deep with concentration. Spartan was not impressed by what he had seen so far but had little doubt the man was genuinely concerned about his territory, even if his distrust of the rest of the Alliance was excessive.

“Very well, I will call for you shortly. In the meantime, I suggest you get some sleep.”

The universal warship design, one formed alongside the creation of the Alliance itself, is an undoubted success and has proven sturdy and reliable against all manner of foes. Over the years the design has been improved, but the basic principle of a ship with interchangeable mission modules is now standard practice in the Alliance Navy. The Conqueror Class Battlecruiser is the latest in the line of universal ships, and it is expected that frontline operations will be taken over by these larger and more capable craft over the next two decades. The Crusader class will be reconfigured as required to better support their larger and even more advanced cousins.

Naval Cadet’s Handbook

Spartan threw back the glass and swallowed another long mouthful of the yellow liquid. It wasn’t a drink he was familiar with but found he quite liked it. Instead of the usual drinks, this one was a local delicacy. At least that was what the woman at the bar had said. As he swallowed another mouthful, he recalled how the woman had explained it was made from apples, a fruit that grew on the trees in their underground orchards.

Not bad, not bad at all.

The bar had a strange name with an excessive number of consonants that Spartan still thought they’d made up. The resulting name was nigh on impossible to pronounce, at least for him and Khan. He’d traveled far and wide and had never come across such a long and confusing name. The passageway leading to this social part of the underground base contained multiple businesses, including places to buy food, exercise, clothing stores, and even a place selling trinkets and memorabilia supposedly of Earth’s past. He gulped the last few drops and dropped the empty glass down on the table. He could have done with more sleep, but right now he was enjoying a chance to relax before getting the call from the Governor. Khan spotted him finish the glass and took it from him before signaling for the woman to approach.

“Two more,” he said a little louder than he intended.

The bar was much like any other Spartan had been to, with just one exception, the amount of weaponry on display. The walls and ceiling were covered in a bizarre collection of edged weapons and pieces of armor. Spartan had been fascinated by the number of helmets of many shapes and sizes but especially the one shaped like the head of an ox. A line of brackets held up nearly thirty very long weapons, including glaives, spears, partisans, and big swords. The ceiling was almost five meters above their heads, yet even more equipment hung down above those beneath enjoying a quiet drink.

It looked like a popular place, with nearly a dozen people relaxing prior to Spartan’s arrival. It had taken the two of them less than an hour to get themselves into trouble, and all because Khan had made a comment about two women in one of the Earthsec bars. Two officials were now propped up on the bar while a third wiped blood from their faces. Khan and Spartan, on the other hand, looked revitalized, both pumped up on a mixture of alcohol and adrenalin.

“I like this place,” Khan said.

He walked toward the bar trying to find his drink, but instead the three guards raised their hands to protect themselves. Khan stopped and growled at them, and then burst out laughing so violently that drool ran down from the corner of his mouth. When one of the guards recoiled even further, it merely encouraged him to lean in.

“Khan, come on, they’ve had enough,” said Spartan.

Khan looked at each of them in turn and then stumbled back while grumbling something about Spartan. He staggered and then made an odd noise upon finding his drink, threw it back with one gulp, and then smashed the glass on the bar. He walked back to Spartan and dropped himself onto a long sofa that groaned painfully under his weight. Spartan sat directly opposite, took a swig from his own glass, and then placed it carefully on a small round table.

“What do you think is happening out there?”

Khan shrugged. Spartan could only smile at his discomfort. Khan looked to the door and back to Spartan. He had a helpful look on his face.

“Go and have a look.”

Spartan laughed at his friend’s dulled senses and complete lack of understanding.

“No, Khan, I mean I wonder what Jack and Teresa are doing now? The last reports they have here confirm something about an attack on Helios, Biomech ships being spotted at Rifts, and a full-scale mobilization of our entire military.”

“What about APS?”

Spartan looked at him for a second before remembering that his company had a small regional recruitment office at one of the Alliance buildings on Earth. He’d not had much to do with it, as they hadn’t even rented an entire floor. It was from memory a shared location with other firms in one of the state business centers. At least that was how he remembered it.

“Good point, I need a working computer terminal...or datapad. Where the hell can we get one?”

Spartan stood up and almost crashed into a tall man wearing a smart suit. The man began to speak, but at seeing their faces, decided discretion was the better part of valor and headed for the door.

“Smart,” Khan said.

The man vanished to be replaced by another figure. He stepped inside and stopped. He was an overweight man in an Earthsec uniform, and carrying the same utility belt and weapons as his comrades. He looked about at those sitting or drinking before stopping at he sight of the three Earthsec operatives. He sighed and walked over to them.

“Spartan,” Khan said quietly. He looked in the direction of the newcomer and nodded at him.

“We’ve got a suit heading our way.”

They were partially obscured by the smoke of cigarettes from their position in the far corner. Even so, the size of Khan was almost impossible to hide, and after speaking for a few seconds, he touched one of them on the arm and indicated for a pair of guards to come in and help them leave. Khan clenched his fist at seeing them, but Spartan shook his head ever so slightly.

“No, not yet.”

At the same time, he checked the motorized hand he’d been equipped with was also working. It was almost silent, but he was still finding the neural connection cumbersome to use. The last thing he wanted was to end up in a fight with a hand that ended up causing him problems. The man looked at him and then walked from the bar through the smoke toward them. By the time he appeared underneath the low-level lighting, they could see his face, and Spartan instantly relaxed.

“I see you’ve been making friends,” said the man.

Spartan laughed.

“Lieutenant John Jenkins. What are you doing in our private hell?”

He moved up to Spartan and lowered himself down. Shapes near the doorway betrayed additional guards, but Spartan chose to ignore that, for now. He suspected they were keeping an eye on them, but so far had made no overt moves. He looked to Spartan’s left arm.

“You want to see it?”

The man grinned sheepishly.

“Do you mind? I heard you went for something…well…something that is a…”

Spartan moved his hand up from where he’d rested it under the table.

“I’ve been checking our records prior to the closure of the Rift.”

He handed him an old datapad, one that must have been at least forty years old. It took him right back to their shared time in the Corps.

“And?”

Lieutenant Jenkins pointed to the top right of the device.

“Your wife, she isn’t with your company anymore. In fact, the entire private security industry is gone.”

“What?” Khan snapped.

“There was some trouble while you were away. It seems the Alliance bought up some of your services and assets before shutting down the business, leaving it a corporate shell or something.”

“What about my wife?” asked Spartan, his tone lowering and sounding less friendly.

“That’s what I thought you’d like to hear. She’s been reinstated to the Marine Corps. She made Lieutenant Colonel.”

Khan raised both of his eyebrows at that.

“Colonel?”

Spartan wasn’t sure whether he should have been happy or saddened at the news. Teresa had loved the Corps, but neither of them had been able to progress much further, and after the War the opportunities for people like them had shrunk every year.

“Not much of a surprise though, is it? She would be a good Colonel.”

He looked to the Lieutenant.

“Anything on the rest of my family?”

Lieutenant Jenkins took the data and moved to a second page of data before handing it back. It showed a list of personnel on a number of warships, with three names all highlighted in red.

“Not much other than this.”

Spartan looked at them carefully and then handed back to the device.

“So, my family is knee deep in all of this.”

He turned to Khan who was now looking around for another drink. Spartan grabbed his chin and tugged him back to face him.

“Khan,” he said forcefully.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“Jack is with a task force at Helios led by Gun. He’s got three marks on his record here.”

“Just like his father,” he muttered in reply before the name of his kin registered.

“Gun got the command, huh? I wonder who he killed for that!”

Spartan wiped his brow and nearly poked himself in the eye. He shook his head, trying to force the alcohol from his body and regain a little more composure.

“Thanks, Khan.”

His friend looked at him and swayed before righting himself.

“What about Matius and Ingo?”

Spartan’s face tightened like a single angry muscle at the mention of their names. They were not his children. They were from Teresa’s past, and he got on even worse with them than he had with Jack in his early years.

I don’t like kids,
he thought.

Khan continued to look at him though, and he felt obliged to answer.

“They are heading out with the fleet, to join the rest at Helios, I think.”

Khan leapt up and almost crashed into the wall. Only by resting a foot on the sofa was he able to remain upright.

“Then we need to get going. If there’s going to be a fight, they’ll need us.”

Lieutenant Jenkins reached out to help stabilize Khan and found it harder than expected. When both of them were ready, he leaned in and spoke quietly.

“That’s why I’m here. The Governor has authorized a special operation, and he wants your advice.”

Spartan rose to his feet and did his best to ignore the pain racking up through his body. He dreaded to think how many bones he’d broken or damaged since vanishing with the T’Kari ship so long ago. The medics had explained to him over and over that he needed a long period of rest and recuperation, and to a man he’d explained to them all that he would, but only when he knew his wife and son were safe, not a moment earlier.

* * *

The room was dark, lit only by the antiquated looking two-dimensional projector device. The unit cast a highly detailed video image directly onto the specially coated wall to give a wide view of the awful scene being depicted.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this has just reached us after the last survivors of the refinery security detail on Mars were killed. The last two made it off planet and used a relay satellite before being cut off.”

His tone altered to something far more somber.

“We suspect both were killed in action.”

The video continued, but so far nothing particularly interesting had appeared. The imagery was shaky because it came directly from the helmet mount of a security operative. To those in the room unused to combat, it must have come as quite a shock to see the terror and confusion of those being looked at. Spartan scanned quickly around the conference room, noting it looked more like a business boardroom than somewhere suitable for a military briefing, if that’s what it was.

“Here,” said the Governor, “this is where the main attack began.”

Spartan watched as the figure moved to a window and looked out at a number of tumbling shapes surrounded by smoke. The camera jarred about and focused on the left of a small barrack room. Two men lay dead on the ground, and a third screamed out as his left arm hung down, shattered by some impact. They wore Earthsec uniforms, but unlike those on Earth, they were all wearing full tactical armor. It was nothing like the gear the Marine Corps used, and Spartan could see it was cheap, privately manufactured equipment designed more for internal security work. Their torsos and limbs were protected by plates of layered metal and plastic held on to their bodies with Velcro straps. The limbs were bulked up with additional plates on the knees and elbows, yet large gaps remained unprotected on the inside of the limbs and the ribs.