The space battle at the Siege of Titan proved once and for all that the actions of a single ship could change the course of a battle. The heroic stand of the Battlecruiser Crusader against incredible odds made the assault landings on the station possible, and with it the first real victory in the Great Uprising. Though the great warship finally met her end at the fall of Terra Nova, she did provide the inspiration for an entire new class of ship. This class of warship would be proudly named Crusader and be fully battletested in the struggle for supremacy in the Orion Nebula at New Charon.
Naval Cadet’s Handbook
The first wave had been easily repulsed with only minimal losses to the T'Kari. Spartan, Teresa and their Jötnar allies were still stood outside the perimeter of the temple location in the centre of the room, much to the apparent dismay of Ayndir who continued to call them over to make use of the cover. Spartan, however, knew full well the strengths and weaknesses of his own people. They were bigger and bulkier than the T'Kari, and the limited cover offered them little protection. The open space gave them room to use their weapons.
“Listen!” barked Gun.
Spartan could hear nothing, but he understood the senses of the Jötnar and had grown to trust them without hesitation.
“Get ready!” called out Teresa, and once more they lifted their weapons for battle.
But this time the sound was different. The sound of hundreds of feet was replaced by dull thuds and grinding sounds. Teresa wasn’t sure, but Khan and Spartan knew what was coming.
“Get back, it’s machines!”
On cue, the damaged entrance ripped open and in walked one of the eight-legged machines, just like those Jack and Wictred had discovered long dormant. They surged forward in a rush as gunfire licked around them. Five more entrances ripped open, and more of the machines broke through, closely followed by scores of the T'Kari looking enemies. One of the machines managed to reach the temple, cutting down a T'Kari guard before Spartan and Khan jumped at it. Khan embedded his blade into its torso, and Spartan jammed his barrel against the thing’s back, blasting it with continuous gunfire. It flailed and struggled before collapsing but still managed to shred Spartan’s carbine at the same time.
“Spartan, over here!” shouted Gun as he continued blasting away. With his free arm, he withdrew one of the primitive looking slightly curved blades and tossed it over to him. A Jötnar could swing it with one hand, but it took both for Spartan to swing the three kilogram weapon with speed and precision. Like a tidal wave, the enemy surged over them, and all the defenders could do was shoot, hack and stab for all they were worth.
* * *
Captain Thomas watched the approaching ships with trepidation. He’d given as much ground as he dared to them but any closer to ANS Beagle, and they could simply ignore him and attack the station. Deep down, he worried they would do that anyway. It was not like a ground or even an ocean based battle. Ship ranges were almost irrelevant in space, as were the gaps between ships. His plan was a simple one. He would put on one hell of a show to distract them, and hope he looked more hostile and dangerous than he actually was. Either way, it was a matter of minutes now before he would find out.
“Sir, our weapon arrays are in range. From their current course and velocity, it looks like they are ignoring us and heading directly for the Spacebridge,” explained the Tactical Officer.
Damn, he thought. That was the news he had been dreading.
“We cannot let them get past us. Send the word to Captain Vinson. I want his air group in action.”
He then turned slightly to Lieutenant Jesse Powalk, the Tactical Officer.
“I want their attention, get it for me!”
“Aye, Sir!”
Unlike her sister ships, ANS Devastation was equipped with the latest particle beam direct-energy weapons. As they opened fire, the crew were surprised to see red streaks of energy as they bounced and reflected off the dust and gas that was prevalent in this sector, especially around the gas giant. The parallel beams struck the first heavily armored ship directly on the bow section, but appeared to show no discernible effect.
“Status?” called out Captain Thomas nervously.
“It’s taking time, Sir. The weapons are burning through her hull. I don’t know what they make those ships out of, but it is layered and very thick.”
The optical scopes had magnified the lead three enemy ships so that they filled the mainscreen. The two red beams seemed to been locked onto the bow of the first ship for an age, before a series of explosions started a quarter the way along her hull from the bow; quickly followed by ripples and flashes. Then the bow tore off with a mighty flash, sending broken metal and debris around the vessel.
“Yes!” cried the XO before quickly calming down. Even so, the cheer of excitement through the bridge quickly spread.
“Good work,” announced the Captain. “I think that will get their attention.”
He was answered in the simplest of fashion as four of the ships made subtle changes in their course direction. Flashes of light ran along their hulls, followed quickly by the emergency alarms inside the bridge.
“Alert, incoming warheads!” announced the computer.
There was no time for the officers to give orders. The computer had already told them all they needed to know. In just three seconds, the hypersonic projectiles slammed into the port side of the ship with terrible effect. The massive warship shuddered from hundreds of impacts, and alarms blared on multiple screens.
“One powerplant’s offline, breaches on six levels. Those are powerful weapons, Sir,” said Lieutenant Powalk.
“Take us closer. I want every defensive turret online and firing. I don’t care how much damage we cause, just keep as many of them busy as you can.”
The great ship shifted a few degrees until the four enemy ships and ANS Devastation became locked in a bloody close-ranged battle of kinetic and particle beam weaponry. The turrets of the Alliance ship were designed for stopping fighters or missiles, but on this occasion they sent thousands of projectiles at the ships. The damage was minimal, but they did cause minor damage on all four ships.
It wasn’t just the capital ships that were busy in the battle; at the same time, the squadron of Lightning MK II fighters entered the fray. The group of agile fighters split apart and loosed off their Sea Skua missiles at two of the ships. All missiles impacted, with the enemy ships appearing to make little, or no use of countermeasures of defensive systems. Unfortunately, they struggled to penetrate the thickly layered armor and did little more than blast great hole in their flanks. Even so, one more pass by the Alliance warship put her in position behind the hostile vessels. Another long burst of particle-beam fire, and she was left as a burning hulk from the inside out. The particle beam emitted by the ship had the potential to release over a gigajoule of kinetic energy, at speeds approaching the speed of a light. Tests had shown the weapon should negate any realistic means of defending a target, providing the power and focus could be maintained. The explosive impact of the particle beam had the capacity to literally explode the target upon impact. With one ship down, it was starting to look like ANS Devastation might be more than capable of fighting off the enemy. That was until they were finally able to face their flanks to the gallant ship.
“Captain, they’re building up power. Something is coming!” cried Lieutenant Powalk.
The crew did their best to maneuver past the enemy ships, but it was too little too late. Two of the heavily armored warships unleashed a volley of much lower powered direct-energy weapons. The effect was very different to the weapons on ANS Devastation but was equally terrible. Streaks of blue matter blasted from their flanks and slammed into the much thinner hull of the Alliance ship. Each round ripped through the outer skin and proceeded to burn slowly through several meters before coming to a halt.
More alarms triggered inside the ship, but incredibly, none had reached the main crew areas or the powerplants. Even so, the alarms warned of hull breaches and losses of power to a number of minor systems. Captain Thomas paced back and forth as he checked each of the stations and encouraged them on. At this range, he had to rely on their training and reactions, and so far he could find nothing to fault.
“Captain, the port emitter has overheated. We’re down to just one,” explained Lieutenant Powalk bitterly.
“Just use what you have, Lieutenant, and bring us around to burn a hole in the closest ship.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but a great shudder forced most of the crew about and to the floor. The mainscreen split down the middle, and a number of screens stopped working altogether. Emergency alarms activated, and jets of steam and gas burst in at least seven locations. Captain Thomas picked himself up and looked over to the XO.
“What the hell was that?”
“Unknown, Sir, it came from the lead warship. Our main engines show as out of action, and the particle beam capacitors have overloaded. We’re dead in the water.”
As if to emphasize the point, another three volleys of weapons fire crashed into the hull, sending a flurry of damage reports and warnings about the remaining computers.
“Your orders, Sir?” asked the XO.
Captain Thomas pulled one of the smaller screens closer, so he could get an external view of the battle. One enemy ship was gone, and a second was burning about its centre section. But there were still four remaining, and he knew where they would go next. Right now, though, they were moving into position to protect the damaged ship from the cloud of turret fire still pouring from ANS Devastation’s close in weapon systems. All of the remaining ships were now moving on the same linear course to ANS Beagle. It looked almost as if they were in a running race to the finish, but in reality, they were all in the deceleration stages so that they could move into position around the target, rather than fly right past it. That was what gave Captain Thomas an idea.
“Helm, we still have maneuvering thrusters, do we not?”
He was greeted with a quick nod.
“Good. Get me closer to the ship protecting the damaged vessel.”
The XO walked over to him and leaned close to his ear.
“Sir, what are you thinking?”
Captain Thomas just smiled back.
“I mean to use our last remaining asset against them.”
The XO looked confused. Their fighters were engaged, their main engines and weapons were offline, and their only offensive system was either the small-caliber point defense grid or the bulk of the ship itself. Another volley of gunfire tore into the warship, causing even more breaches.
“Captain, powerplants are fluctuating, and we have containments breaches. I’m evacuating the entire level!” announced the Chief Engineer.
Captain Thomas didn’t seem particularly concerned. He was well aware their options were limited and that ANS Devastation was facing her final minutes. Instead, he made direct contact with Lt Colonel Maria Barnett, the commander of his embarked marine unit. Her image appeared but crackled with digital distortion as more gunfire rained down on them.
“Colonel, your marines, are they ready?”
“Aye, Sir, armored and waiting.”
“Good, to your boats, Colonel. I want you to board the two nearest ships.”
“Sir?” she asked in surprise.
The warship shuddered from yet another powerful blast.
“Colonel, we don’t have much time. Split your teams and hit both ships. Do what you can. We’ll cover you with as much point-defense fire as we can muster.”
The Colonel saluted smartly; painfully aware her mission was almost certainly a suicide run. The video cut, but the status indicators on the computer showed the landing craft and shuttles were already primed and moving into the launch bays at the rear. Captain Thomas watched as the first craft moved away from the ship amid streams of fire and flashes of energy.
“Tactical, protect our people!”
* * *
The view from the boarding shuttle was one of destruction and carnage. The group of ships were still travelling together like a shoal of fish. Lt Colonel Maria Barnett could see the grey hulk of ANS Devastation nestled between the crude but thickly armored enemy warships. Like a battle from Earth’s eighteenth century, they continued to blast each other with powerful broadsides. The Alliance ship was taking the worst of it, and she spotted at least seven major fires as the gallant ship burned from the inside. She tore her eyes away from the crippled vessel and to her target. She’d sent one company to the damaged ship, but she was heading for the undamaged one that had moved into position to protect the other from any more fire.
What the hell are we going to find on that thing? She wondered.
“Colonel, where do you want to land?” asked the pilot nervously.
She looked carefully at the design of the ship. There were many gaps on the hull that gave the impression of landing bays or docking areas. She couldn’t be certain, but they didn’t have the time to perform a more thorough examination.
“There!” she said, pointing at the schematic. “Get us there as fast as you can. Co-ordinate with the others. I want maximum deployment at the landing zone.”
“Understood, Sir.”
She looked at the other marines waiting patiently in the armored craft. All wore the general purpose PDS armored suits, and in their hands, they cradled their fabled L52 Mark II Assault Carbines. The enemy vessel seemed to approach them quickly but, of course, it was the other way around. At a distance of just fifty meters, she could clearly see a flat landing area with three small vessels clamped into place.
“That’s the spot. Put us down.”
She then hit the Marine Corps open channel. It was encrypted but went to every marine in her unit.
“Marines, we don’t have much time. Fix yourself to the hull and assist with the entry points. Once we’re inside, use your scanners to identify energy blooms and hit them hard. I want power systems, fuel, weapons, and anything of value destroyed. We’ll tear them apart from the inside. Good hunting!”
They moved slightly closer, and the doors of the craft opened before they even touched the metal. The Colonel was the first out, and she drifted right up to the hull before her boots performed the final link with the surface. She glanced back to see the small flotilla of craft disgorging the rest of the marines onto the spacious landing area.
Right, what next?
A quick glance showed two circular hatches that looked suspiciously like an airlock seal. She signaled to one of her personal guards who made quick progress towards the hatch. He pulled a tool from his suit and proceeded to start placing a compact thermite charge, designed especially for spacecraft breaches. More marines arrived, and in less than thirty seconds, there were charges set at three separate locations on the platform.
“Now!” she cried.
A brief flicker of white was the only effect until the hatches themselves ripped off and blasted out into space. It depressurized the inner section immediately, and she watched with a mixture of pleasure and sickness as three of the crew were sucked out into the void. There wasn’t time to look any more closely at them, but they were clearly human, of a fashion.
This is it then!
She didn’t hesitate, and instead, pulled herself through the hatch into the ship, her carbine at her hip and ready for battle. The other marines did the same and very quickly they secured the empty sections of the ship. They appeared to have gained control of almost a complete rear deck of the ship, and nearly forty marines moved inside. The design was more cramped that an Alliance ship, but the level of technology appeared highly advanced. There were no exposed machines of any kind, just glowing tubes and cabling, as well as granite-looking slabs coming up from the floor. Some of them flashed with blue energy, as information in a foreign tongue appeared, much like on a monitor. There was little time to investigate, as two large doorways flipped upwards to reveal small groups of warriors. They were of a similar size to the marines but slighter in build. They blasted away with unknown weapons, but the effect as terrible. Streaks of energy tore through the marines’ armor as if it were nothing but thin plastic.
“Stop them!” she screamed over the communications gear.
The deck turned into a savage warzone, with defender and attacker alike falling and being blown apart by terrible weapons. Lt Colonel Barnett reached them first, and she kicked away from the wall, smashing her weapon at the nearest armored soldier. Surprisingly, the enemy troops seemed to instantly fall back when confronted by the ferocity of close quarter battle, even in a zero gravity environment. More marines joined her, and the firefight quickly turned into a close quarter brawl, a situation that perfectly favored her marines.
“Keep pushing forward!” were her last words, as two of the enemy pinned her to the wall and blasted her helmet apart with close-range gunfire.
* * *
The area of space around the entrance to the Spacebridge was surprisingly busy, as over thirty civilian vessels formed up in a widely space cloud around the station. They were operating under automated control or skeleton crews, just to give the enemy something else to shoot at. So far, the only military presence was the two Alliance frigates posted there. Like two small guard dogs, they moved out to form a pathetic skirmish line. It was nothing but a token gesture, as the group of enemy ships could easily hit ANS Beagle with their long-range guns, and there was little they could do about it. Even so, both ships waited with weapons systems active and ready for the inevitable attack.
Captain Raikes watched patiently as ANS Devastation and the enemy ships continued their violent battle, but minute by minute the group came closer to his position.
She’s doing her job, though. Forty minutes now, and they are still fighting. He thought with amazement.
“Sir, close-range sensors have just picked up an approaching ship. Unknown configuration and they are only a kilometer away!” shouted the Tactical Officer in surprise.
Captain Raikes approached the monitor and examined the vessel. It was completely different in size and configuration to the enemy craft or anything else he’d seen. The computer system brought up a comparable image of one of the craft spotted, bombing Hades, prior to the arrival the large enemy ship.
“Uh...Sir, they are hailing us,” announced his Communications Officer.
A quick hand gesture was all that was needed to transfer the communications from the vessel to the mainscreen. It showed digital noise until segment by segment it rendered to a high-quality video feed. A group of three armored warriors appeared inside a cramped command deck of some kind. One of them started to speak in an odd tongue, before a synthesized voice spoke in broken English.
“Greetings, Commander. We offer you our assistance.”
On the tactical screen, Captain Raikes watched the vessel take up position alongside the two frigates and then wait as if it was no more than another Alliance frigate. He looked to his XO with a look of outright surprise on his face.
“Uh...what is this?” he asked slowly.
ANS Beagle’s internal warning system activated, and just as on all Alliance ships, the lights slowly altered to low level red as a warning to all crewmembers.
“Sir, the enemy formation is moving into weapons range. One is badly damaged, and three of the others are making course adjustments. I think they’re going to attack.”
The Captain nodded. He’d expected this.
“Send the signal through the Rift, and start the shutdown sequence. If anything happens to jeopardize Prometheus, we’ll cut the link.”
He then looked to his XO.
“Get them ready. It’s time.”
As if in response to his comments, a great volley of projectiles and missiles appeared on the scanner. At the current range and velocity, the first would hit in a matter of seconds.
“Defensive fire, now!” he shouted.
The area of space around ANS Beagle instantly filled with clouds of metal shards, and scores of multi-barreled turrets opened fire. They were designed to pinpoint and blast tiny, high-speed objects in a fraction of a second. Both the station and the two frigates concentrated every weapon they had into a broad corridor towards the slowing ships. It was an impressive sight, and by all accounts, stopped over ninety percent of all incoming fire. But that was still enough to devastate one of the large cargo ships waiting five hundred meters away from the entrance of the Rift. Explosions rippled around the engine area, but incredibly, the vessel stayed intact.
“Sir, they are moving to present their broadsides to us!” shouted one of the officers, but the Captain barely registered it. His eyes were drawn to the new arrival; the alien ship that had accelerated away and was jinxing around the enemy capital ships, bombarding them with heavy fire. The effect was impressive, but he still doubted it would change an awful lot.
The interior of the bridge flashed light blue as a ship came through the Rift, quickly followed by many more until a force of twelve capital ships, including five of the new Crusader class, poured out of the tear in space. They must have been ready because no sooner had they arrived, and they were already firing. The five Crusader class tore into the exposed flanks of the enemy ships with devastating effect, and two were cut clean in half by the coordinated and concentrated fire. The image of Admiral Anderson appeared on ANS Beagle’s main screen.
“Sorry we’re late, Captain. Leave this to us. We’ll drive them back to the abyss!”
With that one announcement, the battle for the Spacebridge turned around. In minutes, those enemy ships still able to maneuver had turned and accelerated at maximum speed back towards their own Rift and command ship. Three ships remained; ANS Devastation and the two now heavily damaged enemy ships. All three were so close, they now looked like a single vessel, and from what Captain Raikes had heard; they were a warzone.
* * *
The defenders of the underground complex had now held off four attacks, but already their ranks were starting to falter. Khan and two other Jötnar were quite badly wounded and forced to withdraw to the fallen columns around the centre of the room for defense. Over half of the T'Kari were now dead or wounded, and even worse, those that remained seem incapable of fighting at close range. Spartan had never seen anything quite like it. He’d witnessed three of the T'Kari simply kneel down to be killed by edged weapons. It seemed they were either not trained for close quarters combat, or they were unwilling. Either way, it had fallen to the depleted group to fight when the enemy came again.
How many more attacks must we face?
To answer his question, another rumble shook the ground, and he could see flashing lights approaching from the nearest tunnel. Ayndir beckoned towards him and threw one of her rifles at him. He grabbed it, lifting it to his shoulder, ready for battle. Gun and Teresa stepped alongside him, both holding their weapons up and ready.
* * *
The enemy ships needed several hours to reach their Rift, but Admiral Anderson was having none of it. His force of warships continued right behind them, firing their railguns and particle beams as frequently as they could. It was more a chase than a battle, and in less than twenty minutes, only one of the ships was able to keep moving.
Captain Thomas grabbed onto the handrail as his marine bodyguard helped him to the lifeboats. The valiant warship was burning, and he’d already given them his orders. Incredibly, the ship had survived the battle long enough for the reinforcements under Admiral Anderson to arrive. Now that they were being pursued, he had given his last order aboard ANS Devastation. There were no more explosions, but it was clear that the ship was no longer habitable with her powerplants off-line, engines out and hundreds of major hull breaches.
“Sir, Colonel Barnett’s deputy reports the remaining enemy vessel has been captured. She has just under a hundred prisoners and says the ship is habitable.”
“What happened to Barnett?” he replied suspiciously.
“It looks like she died in the first wave, Sir.”
He shook his head.
“Damn it. She was a fine officer. Still, there will be time for mourning later. The enemy warship, we shall claim her as a prize. Move the crew over as quickly as possible. I will transfer my flag to the enemy ship.”
Commander Parker saluted and then continued with her work to help evacuate the crew. As she moved away, she even considered the possibility that the ship might be salvageable, assuming they survived. They were not far from the starboard evacuation deck, and the blast doors had been torn off. Luckily, all of the crew were now wearing sealed suits and pulling themselves past the debris to the waiting shuttles and lifeboats. Captain Thomas waited for a moment as he spotted the enemy’s Rift, like a second sun in the distance. Though the enemy command ship was far away, he could work out the silhouette against the colors of the space phenomena.
Who are you? He thought bitterly.
* * *
Admiral Anderson had the perfect view from the CIC of ANS Crusader, the lead ship in the new class of Alliance warship. The magnified view on the mainscreen showed the enemy command ship was moving back through its own Rift, presumably withdrawing from battle. Tempted as he was to pursue it further, he had already ordered all of his ships to turn on those few ships still in the system. He was going to make sure New Charon was secure before he let a single vessel head anywhere near the new Rift.
“Admiral, the T'Kari ship is continuing on its course to the Rift.”
“What? Why?”
Captain Harris, the commander of the ship shook his head.
“Unknown, Admiral. Wait, they’re firing something into the Rift.”
They watched as a blue pulse of energy, much like a magnetized railgun round, but it emitted massive amounts of energy. It moved at almost the speed of light before entering the Rift. There was a small flash, and the Rift started to ripple and shift. Admiral Anderson instantly knew something terrible was about to occur and grabbed the intercom, selecting an open frequency.
“This is Admiral Anderson. All ships are to move away from the Rift immediately. I repeat, move away from the Rift. It is showing signs of instability.”
More flashes jumped back and forth through the Rift, and the command ship started to break up. Explosions and streaks of light bounced around the great hulk as it tore itself apart over a period of several minutes. The Rift remained but continued to emit unstable radiation as it shuddered and destroyed its prey like some carnivorous worm. Almost as quickly as it had arrived, the enemy ship was gone, leaving an unstable Rift in its wake.
The crew of the warship cheered at the sight of the enemy’s destruction, but the Admiral, ever the worrier, thought of the reports he’d been seeing over the last hours. He looked to the XO of the ship.
“Get the order out to our forces in this sector. I want all bases, moons and landing sites to be reinforced and secured as a matter of urgency. It’s time we took control of this place.”
* * *
The last defenders of Hades waited as the sound of footsteps increased. The acoustics were surprisingly good there, and Teresa’s mind wandered as she considered the many things that could be accomplished in this underground refuge, other than combat and death, of course. She looked to Spartan and the others, and her memory flashed back to the dozens of warzones they had fought on together. She and Spartan had encountered their first bloody battle on a captured Confederate moon base. It seemed fitting that they were now about to face a final confrontation on yet another. The difference of hundreds of light-years seemed insignificant next to the violence of their situation. The sound from the nearest opening became louder, and each of them carefully trained their weapons, waiting for the moment.
“Steady!” Spartan called out, though it wasn’t needed. His group were professional to the last. More noise and then several bursts of gunfire. The sounds became louder, and then came the lights at the entrance. They were close. Each of the bloodied fighters trained their weapons on the numerous breaches. Hunn was completely out of ammunition now, threw his carbine to the ground and pulled his razor sharp glaive from his back. Gun and the other Jötnar watched him and then did the same. Even Spartan dropped his weapon and picked up the blade he had only so recently borrowed.
“Here they come!” shouted Teresa, and before the rest even blinked, she’d cut down the first two to come through the gap.
Hunn burst out from cover and charged across the open space towards them. Spartan and the others watched in awe as he made the distance, even after being struck four times in his chest. He arrived just as the rest of the enemy force rushed out and disappeared into the middle.
“Now!” roared Gun, and with a great bellow, the small group charged across and jumped into the furious melee started by Hunn. Limbs and heads were hacked off with every slash of their weapons, while none but Hunn were forced to their knees by injuries. The armored butt of a rifle struck Spartan in the belly, and just as quickly, it seemed as though their desperate fight would be over. As he dropped to one knee, he noticed the T'Kari doing their best to emulate the Jötnar as they threw themselves at the last wave of enemy attackers moving from multiple access points.
Gun brought his glaive down with such force that it crushed the helmet of the soldier and cut down to the shoulder. The man dropped to his knees, lifeless before his head even touched the ground. Teresa sidestepped another and emptied the last of her ammunition into two soldiers before being stabbed in the leg. Spartan tried to reach her, but three more soldiers blocked his path. With a supreme effort, he pushed himself upright, but two figures passed by in front and leapt upon the soldiers. It was Ayndir and one of her warriors. They attacked with little skill or grace, just the ferocity of anger, and a vain attempt to emulate Spartan’s team.
“Spartan, down!” shouted Khan as he limped about in the middle of the battle.
Spartan knew his friend well and didn’t even hesitate at his cry. He dropped to the floor to witness the sight of the soldiers being cut apart by glaives. Even so, one of them managed to bring Khan down to one knee, yet he refused to go down. Another figure blocked his view, and Spartan immediately grabbed to pull them away from Khan.
This isn’t the way it should end, thought Spartan, as a hand grabbed him and pulled him out of the way.
He looked up, ready to grab at his foe to find a Vanguard Marine, the Alliance’s equivalent to the strength and power of a Jötnar. The marine smashed his fist into the nearest enemy and then stomped past to finish off the others. More Vanguards and conventional marines surged in behind him, and as quickly as it had started, the battle for Hades was over. Spartan tried to stand, but a familiar face appeared from the middle of the battle. It was a blood soaked marine in standard PDS body armor, but as he approached, the man deactivated the visor to show his face.
“General?” spluttered Spartan in surprise.
General Rivers smiled at him and reached down to help his friend to his feet. More and more marines continued to enter, and he was sure Colonel Daniels had moved off to assist in a short skirmish, but the General caught his attention. He called out over his external speakers.
“This is General Rivers, Alliance Marine Corps. This battle is over!”
There was a short pause as those still in the fight struggled to believe the words they’d just heard. Dozens of hands lifted to the air, waving their bloodied weapons. Even the T'Kari, who seemed totally alien to the concept, raised theirs and cheered in unison.
The newly arrived marines helped the wounded to their feet or moved them into a more comfortable position. Spartan, Teresa and Gun moved towards the General, and Khan pulled himself over to check the badly wounded Hunn.
“What about our people on the surface?” asked Teresa as she approached Spartan and the General. The marine commander smiled at them, but her exertions were more pronounced than either of them had seen in previous battles. He took a deep breath before replying.
“They are all safe. We found just one enemy ship in low orbit during our approach. Not that it was much of a problem, it was trying to get away.”
He leaned against one of the broken pillars and pulled off his thickly armored helmet.
“This was a pretty close run thing. It looks like Admiral Anderson and his friends turned up at just the right time. We’ve been hiding in the debris field for hours, waiting for a chance to come and help. Any vessels that were caught out on their own were destroyed in a matter of minutes.”
“Anderson?” asked Spartan.
Ayndir and a small group of the other T'Kari approached as he continued his explanation.
“Yes, he brought in reinforcements and forced them to withdraw into the Rift. One ship, ANS Devastation, commanded by Commodore Lewis, managed to hold them back long enough for Anderson to mobilize a reserve.”
He then nodded towards Ayndir.
“Our friends here fired something into the Rift as they tried to escape, and it collapsed, destroying their ship in the process. This battle is over, my friend,” he said with genuine warmth.
Khan and the other wounded Jötnar staggered over to Spartan, eager not to miss out on the end of the battle. Instead, they found themselves stood next to Ayndir and three of her people. Spartan beckoned towards them.
“This is Ayndir, of the T'Kari.”
She bowed slightly in an overly flamboyant gesture and then spoke quietly.
“We thank you for your help, General. There are few of the T'Kari remaining here now. I have received word from our scout ships, and they confirm the distortion has been disrupted. It can no longer be used for travel. The Great Enemy cannot come back this way for some time. They will have to create a new tunnel from another system in the meantime.”
General Rivers nodded.
“Excellent, how long will it last?”
Ayndir shrugged.
“Every distortion is different.”
“I don’t understand,” said Spartan, “Why not stop their distortions and keep your worlds safe?”
Ayndir smiled at him.
“Using this weapon has told the Enemy we are still here. We, and the rebels, have been fighting them for centuries. They send agents to our systems and start civil wars. They rarely fight their own battles.”
General Rivers spoke briefly to one of his marines and turned back to Ayndir.
“This has happened in our own system. We have just come out of our own Civil War with the machines and their servants.”
Ayndir looked surprised at this.
“Your people survived a war, one started by the enemy’s agents?”
He nodded in reply.
“Yes, it was hard, but we fought them to their last world. We found a Rift, distortion as you call it, directly to this moon.”
Ayndir waited for a few seconds.
“Then our people are brothers. We are linked by this distortion and by our experience with the Great Enemy.” She then looked back at her own people.
“Each of these moons has a small colony of T’Kari, and we have a small number of remaining scout ships to patrol these planets. Our two peoples will be stronger together than apart. I have been authorized by our Council to offer our technology and support to your people, in exchange for your protection.”
General Rivers looked at Gun, Teresa and Spartan before returning to Ayndir.
“You wish to live under the protection of our people? The Centauri Alliance?”
Ayndir looked back at the small number of surviving civilians and spoke quickly. A short discussion took place, and she looked back to the General and the Spartan.
“My people have seen your honor and your military skills, especially those of Spartan and his giants. We have neither the strength nor violence of your people. We only survive because our last citizens have been in hiding. You have already seen our graves and the battlefield on the surface. They were once our great cities. The T’Kari were once a people of twenty billion. Now we are less than fifty thousand. If you will protect this system, then we will ally with your Alliance.”
General Rivers looked at Gun and Spartan, both of them nodded slowly at the proposal. Gun lifted his arm.
“What about our people already here? My people have started building on the high-gravity world.”
Ayndir smiled.
“We do not own these worlds. All are welcome to live here, in peace. Go back and tell your leaders that the Centauri and the T’Kari are friends.”
Gun grabbed Khan and Hunn’s arms and lifted them up high into the air. All three roared as loudly as they could manage, much to the dismay and annoyance of the General. He moved one step closer to Spartan, Teresa and Khan but was forced to shout over the noise of the Jötnar.
“Your sons, Wictred and Jack. I have news.”
The group of three all shared the same look of weariness and concern, but of them all, Khan did his utmost to appear stoic.
“They escaped the destruction of one of our medical frigates and are being treated aboard ANS Beagle. They are both up for a commendation in the battle.”
Teresa grabbed Spartan and pulled him close, even though the movement brought groans of pain from them both. She embraced him firmly and listened to the rest of the General’s news.
“Those two did well, very well. Between them they destroyed an entire warship.”
Ayndir heard his words and shook her head in amazement. The General then looked directly at Spartan.
“I think you might have competition in the destruction stakes, old friend!”
THE END