Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

FURTHER INFORMATION

WAR OF THE EXILES

STAR CRUSADES: MERCENARIES

By Michael G. Thomas

 Part of the STAR CRUSADES series

First Edition

Copyright © 2015 Michael G. Thomas

Published by Swordworks Books

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www.starcrusader.com

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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

CHAPTER ONE

The war left worlds in ruins and millions of lives destroyed. The victory that had been so hard won now turned to a violent peace, punctuated by raider attacks, uprisings, and revolts. Into this turmoil came the Interstellar Assault Brigade, a unit created by some of the Alliance's most notorious heroes. Combining the best technology with recruits from all friendly territories, it became the rapid response force upon which all others were measured. Based in the ruins of the ancient Biomech realm of Taxxu, the IAB remained on standby, with a small fleet of fast assault carriers and a number of combat units suitable for all situations. From the remotely controlled Grunts, through to the Maverick heavy armour suit, they could be at any planet in Alliance controlled space in a matter of days, rather than months. The addition of the JAS suits of the Jötnar gave them an assault force like no other.

Heroes of the Biomech War

Interstellar Assault Brigade, Team Alpha, Tenth Quadrant

Spartan activated the Secgrid command network and broadcast his videostream directly to the soldiers of Team Alpha. There were only four of them inside the up-armoured Jackal MK II dropship, two Humans and two synthetic Jötnar. The thirty launch tubes, each carrying a CD1 remotely controlled combat Grunt, took up the rest of the space. These were small humanoid fighting machines that were as capable as a normal marine, yet expendable and heavily armoured. The communications unit activated instantly, and the upper inside of each soldier's visor now showed his face in high-definition video.

"This is it, people. You know the plan and what's at stake. Grunts will take point and remember, you can take hits but avoid friendlies. This is an extraction, not an assault."

Spartan's visor was clamped shut and his armoured form encased inside a second unit, the state-of-the-art large Maverick Combat Assault Suit. He moved his eyes to the left and checked the interior of his craft. He could see Captain Khan and Colonel Gun, the synthetic Jötnars, oversized humanoid warriors that were easily twice the size of a normal man. Gun lifted his left arm, signalling he'd heard Spartan and then joined in on the command network.

"The Byotai are in position, and the enemy fleet has been sighted. Check your gear for the last time. When we activate the engines, we'll be just eleven minutes out. This is our first combined operation, let's make it one for the history books."

The communications system fell silent, and the four said nothing for another minute until finally Lieutenant Armstrong spoke. Like Spartan, he also wore the heavy Maverick armour.

"This is the first time we've used all three ships together. It an auspicious day, Sir."

Spartan opened his mouth to answer, but Captain Khan spoke first.

"Three ships and a company of IAB Grunts. This aint no auspicious day, Lieutenant, this is going to be a red day. When we hit that station, all hell is going to break loose. I don't know about you, but my body could do with a little bloodletting."

Gun grunted in agreement, and Lieutenant Armstrong said no more. The Jötnar were a tough and deadly race, but they had little interest in conversation, and were never happier than when in combat. The very thought of going into battle once more, and against an enemy with unknown numbers, he felt a sick feeling in his stomach. Spartan sensed something was wrong and deactivated his arm so he could reach out and gently strike the officer’s shoulder.

"Lieutenant. You doing okay there?"

The man nodded, his movement completely hidden inside the armour.

"Affirmative, Sir. Just a little apprehensive of the mission."

Spartan tried to sound conciliatory while keeping a serious tone.

"Don't worry about it, Armstrong. The Grunts will take the heat. We're just along for the ride."

"Yes, Sir. I'm sure you're right."

Once more the Jackal became almost silent, as the warriors on board waited patiently for the orders. Spartan closed his eyes for a little while and ran through one of his many pre-battle calming rituals. The other Jackals were much the same, and each of the soldiers had their own way of dealing with the stress of waiting, even the pilots of the CD1 Grunts.

Men and women inside the three warships using remote presence equipment piloted the remotely controlled Grunts. For them, it would feel as though they were actually the Grunts, but with the benefit that if the armour was destroyed, they could simply transfer to another without suffering any harm. It was that part that unnerved Lieutenant Armstrong. The controllers of the Grunts were safe, while the officers were not. It was not ideal, but it was also a new requirement of Alliance High Command, and the only way they would allow fully independent combat robots into battle in Alliance space.

The three Crusader Class Assault Carriers waited in deep space far from the Byotai border, and equally far from the Medamud Debris Field. The ships were ugly creations and little in common with the sleeker shapes of their predecessors. Gone were the conventional starship engines, and in their place the experimental Alcubierre stardrive. The last third of the ships was taken up by a pair of large rings housing the special nacelles required to created the warped space-bubble, the most advanced solution to the problem of long-distance space travel.

The formation was separated by a hundred kilometres between the ships, and ANS Titan leading the v-shaped formation. The Confederate class were substantial vessels, at four hundred metres in length, displacing over eighty thousand tons, and packed with soldiers bristling with the latest weapons. They were the vanguard of the Interstellar Assault Brigade, and even with just three ships a force to be reckoned with.

"Spartan," said Gun.

The Major opened his eyes and found himself looking at the videostream of Gun.

"I'm here."

"Good," said the Jötnar, "General Makos has made contact. It is time."

* * *

Battleship 'Hellstorm', Medamud Debris Field, Tenth Quadrant

The salvo of torpedoes struck the crippled Byotai tanker and set off a series of devastating secondary explosions. As the vessel ripped itself apart, it became part of the vast graveyard that had now taken fifty-four ships. This paled to insignificance compared to the one hundred and seventy thousand Byotai citizens killed in the fighting, and more than twice that number wounded or taken prisoner. After all of this carnage, the war had not even reached a year old. The border worlds of the disputed Tenth Quadrant were now a proxy warzone for the two regional superpowers, yet after so much death, neither side would commit to the battle. Settlers, mercenaries, and adventurers flocked to the six inhabited planets in search of opportunity, wealth, or glory, while medical ships took away hundreds of casualties every week. The Anicinàbe clans had number and resources in abundance, while the Byotai were forced to rely upon the charity and aid sent by their kin back in the Empire.

It was now the last week of the eleventh month of the border war, and after months of fruitless fighting, the time had come for the decisive battle. General Makos, the renegade leader of the Byotai settlers had done something few thought possible. In an incredible display of space-faring skill and strategy, he had assembled a fleet and finally cornered the Anicinàbe in the treacherous region of space, known simply as Medamud Debris Field. Neither side had been keen for a full confrontation, with all the benefits and risks that such a battle would entail. That had now changed, and General Makos could almost taste the blood of the hated Anicinàbe border clans.

Both sides were well equipped and a full-scale battle just hours, perhaps even minutes away. In the months since Karnak front-lines had been stabilised, the Byotai numbers had slowly increased. More ships had arrived, along with large numbers of civilians eager to help. There was little in the way of military power, outside of the few ships that had defected in the first weeks of the crisis. This left the Byotai unusually weak on the ground, and was one of the causes of the stalemate in the fighting. Only in space did they have a chance, as their smaller, but substantially more powerful fleet could dominate, if it could bring numbers to bear.

The Byotai Fleet contained an odd mixture of warships that had defected from the naval yards, and a much larger number of chartered vessels and mercenaries. It was known simply as the Border Fleet, and after months of battle under the inspired command of General Makos, honed into something deadly. He looked out at the formation of ships and nodded to himself. His officers were busy running the ship, and for now he had a moment to assess his position.

Our time has come. One way or another, I will end this today.

It was an optimistic assessment, but like many of the commanders in the region, he was well aware that his people were not equipped or trained for prolonged warfare. The Byotai war machine would not help, at least not while the threat of all out war with the Anicinàbe remained. The border war might be violent, but it was still a limited conflict, one where battles usually consisted of little more than a few thousand individuals at a time.

The Tenth Quadrant had become the focal point for pirates, corsairs, and mercenaries throughout known space, and each week the war went on left the region even less stable.

I need control of the shipping lanes.

General Makos clenched his fists tightly.

I can then strangle them, starving them of resources until our new forces can drive them out, forever.

These new forces were not soldiers, but something very different. They came from all corners of known space to join in with the fighting, with most opting to accept the coin or offers of land from the more pragmatic Byotai, though occasionally they would join the Anicinàbe if the price were right. On one side were the border clans of the Anicinàbe, millions of individuals from thirteen separate clans, and all looking to reclaim the long abandoned region on behalf on their war chiefs. To them the seven border worlds were more than lost worlds; they were assets that their hated foe was now exploiting. After eleven months of combat, the war was far from resolved on the ground.

General Makos swallowed slowly and then checked his dispositions again. One squadron of fighters were too far to his left flank, and a curt order quickly brought them back. He'd led the entire fleet here, intentionally leaving the inhabited worlds unprotected for this one chance of victory. It was risky but just the kind of strategy the renowned hero of the Byotai would attempt. Though an infantry general, he was still the most capable fleet commander in the region. He led his forces into the field as though they were a front-line armada, and they were now starting to act like it. The ships moved cautiously, carefully avoiding the myriad of objects in the dense clouds of debris. Small groups of fighters darted about ahead of them, continually checking for signs of other ships or traps and mines left behind by the cunning Anicinàbe. This was not the first time the Byotai had attempted to draw them out into a final battle, and each time the Anicinàbe managed to slip away after causing light casualties.

The fifteen Byotai military ships were the core of the fleet. A number were veterans of the Biomech War, and some still bore the marks of that terrible conflict. It was a matter of pride to retain the marks of previous battles, badges of pride that would remain as permanent mementos of darker days. These were by far the larger and took up the centre of each group. They were all black, making them difficult to spot unless in front of bright objects or self-illuminated. Each warship was designed to look like a creature from the Byotai homeworld.

At the front of this fleet was Hellstorm. Though each a powerful vessel in its own right, Hellstorm was by far the largest of the fifteen. Her ungainly form retained the styling of the others but on a larger scale. It had the look of a giant insect; enlarged body parts, and vast solar cell membranes running out along its wings.

General Makos looked on at the last remnants of the combined Anicinàbe fleet as it flitted about through this ruined part of space. Medamud had never been colonised, not because of its environment or resources, but simply owing to the fact it was torn apart in a freak event a millennia ago. The broken planet was now circled by a massive cloud of debris that ranged in size from chunks the size of a small moon through to specks of dust. The field was so great it would take a thousand ships and hundreds of years to fully scan the area; even then there would be little chance of recording the myriad of changes taking place every few minutes. It was the perfect place to conduct clandestine operations from deep inside the field. He looked to his deck officers.

"How long until we reach their facility?"

The answer came back instantly.

"Ten minutes, General," replied Captain Minkov, "It will not be much longer."

He cleared his throat before continuing.

"If we can force the Anicinàbe into battle, we will destroy them, General. Their ships will not stand against our ships-of-the-line."

He seemed concerned before saying the next few words.

"Even so, threatening their forward base is a risky venture, especially out here."

Makos nodded with agreement.

"I know. There is a reason they put it out here. We have to draw the fighters away and give Spartan his window. There are more than thirty of our civilian ships being held there and who knows how many of our people."

He looked to his officer with an uneasy look on his face.

"According to the information from the CTC operatives on board, there are enough prisoners to allow us to open a second front on Karnak."

He closed his eyes, as he often did when stressed.

"With the Empire strangling our reserves, we need to look to all sources for manpower. The enemy has more soldiers, weapons, and ships than we do."

His eyes opened, and he looked resolved.

"It is time to force the issue, my friend. All we have to do is find something more valuable than their ships, and threaten it with utter annihilation. You see, the information I have says this is their biggest operating base, filled with fuel, medical facilities, and weapons. If we threaten it, then, and only then, will they fully engage us in battle. They cannot afford to lose this place."

He sighed and looked out at the chunks of flotsam now blotting out the stars.

"Time is our enemy out here in the Tenth Quadrant. We receive a trickle of support from homeworld and whatever mercenaries our people can pay for. These Anicinàbe have the overt support of their entire people while ours bicker and argue, making our lives difficult."

General Makos then snarled, a common enough expression with him.

"The Anicinàbe are like a pack of small animals. A single, brutal show of force will scatter them. I intend on hitting them so hard their ancestors will wake from their slumber. But first we have to get them to engage, and not run away. It isn't proving easy, is it?"

The Captain nodded in agreement. Though large in number, the majority of the Anicinàbe were damaged from repeated engagements that had seen them chased from Karnak and off to the safety of what remained of the planet of Medamud. There had been relatively few pitched battles, and the Anicinàbe knew only too well the dangers faced by approaching groups of Byotai ships. Like the Byotai themselves, their ships were built to withstand incredible punishment in battle.

"They fight in space the same as they fight on the ground. Hit and run, striking where we are weak, and then withdrawing; it's no way for a warrior to fight."

General Makos could hardly disagree with that sentiment but also understood how the tactics matched the tactical situation and the resources available to them. If he were in their position, he would do much the same. He clenched his fist and turned his attention back to the enemy. They were close now, so close he could almost taste them.

Just a little closer and this will be all over.

Months before this had been the Anicinàbe grand invasion force, but that had been split and large contingents spread throughout the Quadrant to support the conflict. Of them all, this was the largest single fleet, and the one that made reinforcing Karnak so difficult. Most carried the markings of the Spires, with just a dozen or so major Red Scars ships remaining. They were completely reliant on the large numbers of smaller craft, none of which would have much of a chance against a large warship. New shapes appeared every minute or so, and it was clear they did not want the Byotai in this region of space. Captain Minkov noticed the General was observing the densest part of the debris in this area.

"If the information the Khreenk scouts gave us is accurate, we should detect the perimeter defences in the next sixty seconds. The data showed they are equipped with area scanners and defences fitted to some of the larger objects."

He pointed in the direction the General was looking.

"If I was to build a base out here, I'd choose the point to the side, where the fields clear a little. There is enough space to dock a dozen heavy transports or several full-sized war vessels. Even better, there are major obstructions to bypass before the site could be reached. This is an easy place to defend. It might be an idea to move back to more open space."

"Exactly what they want us to think, Captain," General Makos agreed, "And that is why they are not there, and why we will push on."

He looked to Captain Minkov and gave him a grim looking smile.

"You see; they want to give us the impression they are big and dangerous, that this area is a death trap to our ships. They've given the impression their heaviest weapons are cunningly hidden, and I suspect some of the intelligence gained by our Khreenk friends may have been leaked."

His long reptilian tongue flicked out, and back in his mouth just as quickly.

"What they don't realise is that I am prepared to suffer losses out here. I am not looking for a victory, or merely the destruction of their base. Oh, no. I am looking at smashing them and removing them forever. All for the greater good of our people."

"I see," replied Captain Minkov.

As one of the most experienced ship officers in the newly formed border military, he had been honoured by General Makos to be the captain of Hellstorm. Like so many of his kin, the Captain had abandoned his post in the Byotai military to come and help. General Makos was the most highly decorated figure in the armed forces, and when he issued his proclamation to assist the border settlers, it sent a ripple throughout the military. Many of the Empire's best leaders joined up with him, giving the Tenth Quadrant a cadre of well-trained officers. Though an excellent captain, he was not an officer used to commanding large numbers of ships, and more important, he did not have same kind of experience fighting the Anicinàbe that General Makos had.

"Please explain, General."

It was a pleasant enough question, but Makos could tell the Captain was not convinced.

"This is little different to the positioning of a sniper. Does the warrior hide on the top of the tallest building or hill for the best view?"

He paused for effect before continuing.

"Or does he set up position near the tall building? A warrior doesn't just need the best fighting position. They also need to live."

General Makos turned back to the view of the enemy. Their ships moved about in long columns, twisting and rolling like a long snake through the debris. It was impossible to detect their destination, but they were clearly concentrating their number around this particular area.

"I can smell them out here, and they will strike well before we can reach their fortress."

He lifted his head upwards and opened his mouth a fraction, letting the cool air enter his body to help regulate his temperature.

"I can smell their fear, and it is well justified."

He stared at the larger vessels and snarled. This cat and mouse game had continued now for three days, and still the Anicinàbe fleet would not come out and fight them. Fighters from both sides moved as close as they dared, but never enough to initiate a violent response. He had given up counting them, as every ten minutes or so, they would change formation or bring in new vessels from their hiding places in the vast debris field.

Wait, what is that?

He squinted as the computerised imagery showing the enemy constantly shifted. The display was muted and used colours to show the projected strength of the armour on the ships. At the one flank was something strange, as a single colour coalesced into a shape, like a shoal of fish moving in a tight formation so that they appeared as just one object. The General extended his hand and pointed at the shapes.

"Magnify."

The view shifted to an extreme close-up of space next to three capital ships. From behind them came hundreds of smaller heavy fighters. These craft were much bigger and more capable than the fighters used by the Byotai or Alliance, more like small versions of escort ships. Moving in between them were even smaller craft, each little bigger than an anti-ship missile.

Something's different here. They haven't done this before.

He looked back to Captain Minkov, the commander of Hellstorm, all the while feeling a tingling down his spine. General Makos had been in enough fights to know his gut instinct should always be relied upon. Right now something was happening.

"Open gun ports, launch fighters..."

His mouth made an odd sound as he finished speaking.

"...and prepare for battle."

The Captain hissed an acknowledgement and proceeded to issue orders to his officers. He moved slowly, and his mouth made a rasping sound as he spoke, as if there was a small obstruction in his throat. Almost immediately the ship was ready for battle, her stabilisers operating at full power, and weapons and layered armour active. General Makos watched in silence as dozens of Byotai fighters deployed in the formation.

"Form the laager."

The order was simple, and in just a few seconds each ship moved out into the wide sphere. The capital ships were spaced apart enough to avoid giving the enemy easy targets, but not too far they would be unable to provide mutually supportive fire. Hellstorm took up position in the centre of the sphere, the other ships providing protection in every direction. The fighters stayed close to the capital ships, ensuring they were well inside the protective cordon from the overlapping fire of the Byotai warships.

Now they puff themselves up, and try and frighten us as though we were little more than children.

The dust-filled debris field now found itself home to two massive fleets of ships. As more than a hundred and twenty warships manoeuvred around each other, there was still no sign of battle, with both sides holding back. The drifting chunks from the shattered planet continued to move amongst the vessels of both sides, forcing them to continually shift about to avoid impacts. Then came the first encounter, a short battle between a pair of Byotai scout fighters and a single Anicinàbe heavy fighter. The three vanished in a dust cloud, and a moment later a bright flash announced their destruction. That sent the fighters on both sides into a killing frenzy, and in less than sixty seconds both sides were heavily engaged.

"Keep the fighters close, support them," said General Makos.

The order was unnecessary as the ship captains were already doing this. He looked at the unfolding battle, as Anicinàbe ships and fighters moved in to strike at the more remote Byotai ships. Kinetic guns showered both sides with hardened metal slugs, all the while missiles streaked back and forth. The real damage came from the direct-energy weapons, of which the Byotai were the true masters. Unlike the particle weapons of the Alliance, they used a technology that sent large low-velocity pulses of raw energy that would explode any object they came into contact with. The only weakness was they were too slow to be used against fast escorts and fighters. A single Anicinàbe destroyer vanished in a flash, and as the light settled, the burnt out husk was all that remained.

"Good, very good," said General Makos, "Do not get distracted. Stay in formation."

He watched the groups of Anicinàbe vessels and fighters moved in from multiple directions. Their skill in navigation was unsurpassed, and even he was surprised at how close they would move in the debris field. Two Byotai ships packed with mercenaries pulled away, and one collided with a massive asteroid made of rock and ice. A chunk of the ship ripped off, exposing its power unit to the elements. Anicinàbe fighters dove in and shattered the crippled vessel, leaving it in ruins. General Makos snapped and activated the fleet-wide channel.

"Stand your ground. Do not let them push you from your course. Rely on your armour and steel will. We will not flinch before these cowards."

The game of cat and mouse continued for another twenty minutes, and although gunfire was exchanged, there were only a few more casualties, most of them amongst the crews of the fighters on both sides. General Makos smiled as yet another squadron of Anicinàbe heavy fighters withdrew; two trailing smoke.

We will not be moved, little soldiers. I am coming for you.

For all the efforts by the Anicinàbe to draw away the fighters, not one of them worked. Each time they feigned withdrawal, the Byotai would slow down and stay within the cordon offered by the capital ships. Seven Anicinàbe heavy fighters were torn apart, for the loss of just three light Byotai fighters this way, yet still the columns of fighters came, continually attempting to peel away the Byotai. Nearly half of the hundred plus Anicinàbe ships now moved nearer.

That's it, General Makos thought; you're getting tempted, aren't you?

"New contacts!" said Commander Kratochvil.

The imagery changed again to show multiple views from around the Byotai fleet. General Makos had intentionally kept away from the larger fragments in the debris field, even though his fleet was technically the more powerful. His only possible weakness was he could be quickly surrounded and overwhelmed by the smaller and more numerous clan ships. Captain Minkov indicated towards the line of dots above them, and just over a hundred kilometres away.

"Active scanners have located fifteen more ships hidden inside the dust cloud periphery, and they are moving to block our flanks."

"Good," General Makos replied, "They are merely confirming what I had already suspected."

He rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand. It was a futile gesture, as the metal plating from his armoured helm pushed down well past the flesh of his cheeks.

"These are the tactics of fear, something the Anicinàbe like to use."

A quick movement of his hand changed the imagery and the current routes used by the fleet. The enemy was in front, but in much greater numbers above and below, along with more ships moving to the flanks. There was nothing to their rear.

"They leave us with a way out, and they hope we panic and leave as quickly as we arrived. This is nothing more than a ruse. They know we can crush them, and this is their bluff."

General Makos brought his fist down onto his left arm; the metal armour rang out from the heavy strike. It caught the attention of more than a few of the Byotai crew.

"But I say to hell with them, to hell with the whole dammed lot of them!"

He then gave the order none of them would have expected.

"Initiate feigned withdrawal. Move back three hundred kilometres, and then reform the laager. Keep us to the rear. Loose spacing, let them think we've lost our nerve."

The source of the attack was approximately where Captain Minkov had suggested would be a good location from where to build a base. Even as the Anicinàbe moved out to give battle, he still refused to believe that was their base. Each of the Byotai ships had by now changed course and was falling back in disorder, at least that was the impression given.

CHAPTER TWO

Few thought the fighting on Karnak of 372CC, or 2472 by Old Earth reckoning, would last more than a few months. Instead, the local disturbance turned out to be something much greater. Dozens of minor tribes swore allegiance to the coalition of border clans led by Tahkeome and descended upon the seven border worlds, leading to a series of battles and skirmishes that left thousands homeless, or worse. The war might have ended, were it not for the courageous defence of the Khagi District, an event that saw a surge in volunteers heading to the front on both sides. Even when the Anicinàbe League refused to back the offensive of the coalition assembled by Tahkeome, they continued to fight. Yet after nearly a year of skirmishes, neither side could claim complete control of the seven border worlds and their rich resources of naturally occurring nanocrystals. Every week news spread through the Helios Nexus and beyond of the latest victories or defeats, but one thing never changed. The Tenth Quadrant as the Byotai called the region, or the Marche as the Anicinàbe knew it, was far from peaceful. On one side were the renegade General Makos and his volunteers, while on the other, the coalition of border world Anicinàbe and their many clan war chiefs. As the war continued, rumours spread that Tahkeome had vanished, with some even suggesting the mythical warrior was a fakery to unite the clans.

Alien Races of the Orion Nebula

Battleship 'Hellstorm', Medamud Debris Field, Tenth Quadrant

Every single ship in the fleet was moving away from the main strength of the Anicinàbe, and already the enemy attacks seemed to have slowed. Most of the threat now came from four large squadrons of heavy Anicinàbe fighters. They took advantage of the apparent confusion and swept down to hit the rear of the column. To their surprise, the last ship to turn and leave was Hellstorm; her thick, layered armour could easily absorb the massed gunfire from the fighters. Almost immediately the warship vibrated from the impacts of the heavy weapons.

"General, we're taking heavy fire. We've taken breaches to the primary armour layer in seven locations."

General Makos seemed distinctively unimpressed at the announcement.

"I can see that, Captain. You have your orders. Fall back to the designated location, and activate all defensive measures. Shift the armour and keep moving."

For a brief second he spotted doubt in his officer's eyes.

"Don't worry, my friend. We will deal with our Anicinàbe friends, and they will rue the day they turned on our people. We will fight them, and we will emerge victorious."

"Yes, General."

If it had been any other senior officer, it might not have worked. General Makos was more than just a famous military leader; he was something akin to a spiritual leader, one that had led Byotai forces in the Biomech War. There were fewer souls in the Empire valued as highly. The General turned to his right and towards his second-in-command; an even larger Byotai warrior attired in much the same fashion as him. There was a single significant difference between them, and that was the side of his face where his left eye had been replaced with metal plating. The flesh bore heavy scarring where the metal reached it, signifying a horrific past injury.

The fleet moved away from the potential site of the base, and the Anicinàbe fighters and smaller ships continued to give chase. It was a half-hearted pursuit, and most of the ships held back. That was when General Makos stunned every officer in his vicinity.

"Initiate the Mortis routine, now!"

For a second nothing happened, but then the crew reacted and carried out their orders quickly. The engineering teams dumped coolant and radioactive material into space, and the helmsman sent the ship on an erratic course. In seconds the ship transformed from a combat effective battleship, to one giving the impression it had sustained critical damage. They now looked dead in space, venting all manner of material and with their weapons off-line.

"Now we wait."

The rest of the fleet continued to move back, but a handful of fighters remained as they circled about the crippled battleship. They were fast and deployed a series of countermeasures to distract and defeat incoming projectiles and missiles. The impression was they had been tasked with staying back to buy time for the ship to repair itself. For anybody looking from a distance, it was obvious Hellstorm was in trouble, and like a wounded animal, it began to draw the attention of Anicinàbe predators.

"Here they come, the wretches," said General Makos.

Fighters regrouped to escort a wing of destroyers. They held their fire, using the time to move into the perfect flanking positions from which to batter the battleship into submission. At the same time, they unleashed a veritable cloud of defensive fire to beat off the return fire of the Byotai vessel.

"There's an urgent message coming from Blackstone, on homeworld."

Makos could tell from his tone it was important, but their current predicament seemed more so right now. A stream of hardened slugs struck the battleship’s port wing assembly, and a section tore off, only to swing back and then strike the hull of the ship. Then he realised that Commander Kratochvil had mentioned the information came from Blackstone.

There were many members of the Empire's military and civil service sympathetic to the Tenth Quadrant's plight. The official line was that the settlement of the border was outside of the Empire's jurisdiction, but plenty would help unofficially, providing it didn't result in danger to them. Blackstone was the exception. The name was not one individual but actually a faceless collection of people that wanted to help. General Makos knew some of them, but they operated under the veil of Blackstone as a simple method of anonymity.

"Blackstone, you say?"

Commander Kratochvil nodded.

"Yes, General, and it is a high-priority communiqué."

That could mean only one thing, strategically critical news. His heart felt like it had stopped for a brief moment as he conjured up all kinds of awful scenarios. Commander Kratochvil looked confused, as if not understanding the General's expression.

"It's the Anicinàbe, something has happened to them. Something catastrophic."

He opened his mouth and smiled, showing his sharpened teeth. General Makos knew right away that it was the kind of news he wanted to hear.

"So," he started, "It is something is of interest, after all. Let us hope it is bad...for them."

Commander Kratochvil nodded in agreement.

"Go on then, show me."

Commander Kratochvil activated a small holographic imager on his arm. It was a piece of equipment carried by all senior officers, allowing them to communicate with anybody using the encrypted network. The video imagery showed a dark outline of their contact on the homeworld. The video looped to repeat the message he had just listened to, with specific reference to an identified violent event deep inside Anicinàbe territory. One so great it had sent entire populations fleeing in all directions.

"Interesting, very interesting."

He nodded his head slowly, and a sigh slipped out from his lips.

"So the Anicinàbe Council has finally collapsed, and two clans have been destroyed to the very last soul. Curious."

His mouth changed shape, and the tips of his teeth became visible.

"This serves as an important reminder as to why the Anicinàbe are trying so hard to make us leave this place. They are hanging on by a thread, just as I suspected."

He took in a long, relaxed breath as he considered the information.

"Their own territories are crumbling, and you can guarantee any reinforcements coming to the border will be ordered to return. This is good, my friend, very good."

He then made a strange sound in his throat that resonated up through to his mouth.

"You have to feel sorry for them, Commander."

The General's sarcasm was often difficult to identify, but not this time. Commander Kratochvil seemed especially pleased, no doubt due to his time spent fighting on the ground on Karnak. He and the General had personally led multiple sorties against many of the Anicinàbe fortifications that had popped up all over the planet; any news that the enemy had been weakened was welcome news indeed. Commander Kratochvil pointed to the mapping information highlighting the trouble in enemy territory.

"The Anicinàbe can be relied on to always turn against each other. One disagreement and the clans will be back at each other's throats, just like they always do. That would explain why so many of the clan chiefs have been returning home."

General Makos laughed.

"Exactly. I don't really care what has happened to them. They butcher each other as readily as they do with our people. Maybe it's a coup, or maybe the Biomechs have been unleashed from a hidden world."

Commander Kratochvil looked surprised at the mention of the hated enemy.

"Whatever has happened to them, the important thing for us is that it means we have a chance. We will not have long, though. Once this violence is over, they will be back, and possibly in greater numbers."

"General Makos, I have an incoming message from one of the larger ships."

At that very moment the Anicinàbe ships began to pull back a short distance, and reformed in separate divisions around the battleship and the fighters. The space between then was littered with inert ammunition, broken missiles, and chunks of shattered spacecraft. All of this mixed in with the debris field to make it an even more inhospitable place than it had been.

"Show me."

The holographic image appeared in the middle of the deck, and in great detail. The communication systems of both the Anicinàbe and the Byotai were highly advanced and capable of high-resolution mapping data in real-time. Any Anicinàbe would have gathered an angry response, but this particular individual drew angry snorts and hisses from the reptilian crew. Only General Makos seemed unsurprised at the face.

"Tarak," he said.

"...the Butcher," added Commander Kratochvil.

The Anicinàbe warrior tilted his head and gave them both a mock bow. He clearly had little time for the Byotai, and as he spoke, his jaw appeared to tremble with anticipation. General Makos leaned in towards his second-in-command.

"Give the order to the fleet. They must be ready to reform and accelerate, on my command. It will not be long now."

"General Makos of the illustrious Byotai Empire. You have no business in the Marche, and I offer you the chance to end this...disagreement, peacefully."

The General turned away and began speaking with one of the junior officers. He was being intentionally rude and provocative, leaving the negotiations to Commander Kratochvil who found it increasingly hard to hide his look of surprise and amusement. This went on for almost a minute before Tarak increased the volume of his voice. His anger was already barely concealed, and now it burst out for all to see and hear.

"Stop your childish games, Makos. I am giving you one chance to leave this sector."

Now the General returned but appeared little concerned at the threat.

"You have no chance of victory out here. You are outnumbered three to one, and I have weapons stockpiled here that will easily annihilate your fleet. The Medamud Debris Field rightfully belongs to the Anicinàbe."

The General looked to his right and checked the disposition of forces. The Byotai were still falling back, albeit at a very slow speed. The Anicinàbe were spread out to make them look significant. Unknown to any of them was the one hidden force, one that had made it this far into the field undetected. Only a single green icon marked their position.

It is time, my Khreenk friends; time for you to do your work.

He leaned in close so that his head filled the view.

"I give you a chance for peace and to avoid war. Stay here, old one, and your fellow cold-bloods will face my...attention."

The Anicinàbe warrior moved his tongue along the bottom of his upper lip. It was slow so that anybody watching would see his tongue gently sliding along the flesh. General Makos was not intimidated and merely laughed at the threat. At the same time, Commander Kratochvil whispered into his ear while examining a tactical map.

"They are closing in on our position. Four groups, over a hundred ships in total. All have activated their weapons and are preparing to fire."

General Makos leaned in close to the communication unit and opened his mouth wide. His teeth glistened as he spoke. At the same time, he depressed a button on the console beside him. It sent the code the squadron of ships was waiting for. He could not see them, but already his mind was filled with the imagery of the ten Khreenk Corsairs, the infamous ships that plied so many shipping lanes looking for booty and salvage.

They will pin the Anicinàbe, and my brothers will do the rest.

"Tarak. You will have my answer, and it is one of blood. You have my personal guarantee than any captain that surrenders will be stripped of his ship and weapons, and banished from the Quadrant for life."

He then licked his lips, savouring the moment.

"Any that resists, well, they will suffer annihilation. As will your hidden base, or should I simply call it...your base."

With a single gesture the signal was cut, and he looked to his senior officers.

"They don't know we are aware of their prisoners. Send the signals to Colonel Gun and the IAB, and to our fleet. It is time for this to end. Do not stop until every ship, defence platform, and fighter is a burning hulk! Today is the day where Tarak and his Anicinàbe friends will pay for their crimes."

The order spread through the fleet like wildfire, and in minutes the entire Byotai formation had moved back and accelerated into the confused mass of Anicinàbe ships. Not even the loss of six fighters and an assault transport would hold them back. Some of the enraged Byotai even rammed their warships directly into the damaged Anicinàbe vessels, desperate to avenge themselves upon those that had caused them so much calamity.

General Makos watched the return of his forces as they swept past his battleship and on. The larger number of enemy ships quickly engulfed them, yet the violence and ferocity of the Byotai knew no bounds. In just ten more minutes, six of the Anicinàbe ships were gone, and the rest had broken formation. Every direction seemed to show dozens of ships engaged in battle. The Byotai appeared to have the upper had, but a large contingent of Anicinàbe had broken away from battle and were withdrawing to the safety of the base. General Makos watched them leave with a mixture of surprise and elation.

Today the Medamud Debris Field will drip with Anicinàbe blood. We finally have our first victory.

He turned to his officers.

"Send the signal to homeworld. It's time they heard of a victory. We need support, and this will spread to every Byotai settlement and colony in days."

He then turned his attention to the location of their hidden enemy base. As he watched it, a trio of three ships appeared. They were big, much larger than cruisers and their glowing nacelle rings looked like flashing stars. One moment it had been empty space, and the next the three ships were there and already their guns were online.

Impressive, very impressive!

"Focus fire on Tarak's vessel. I want him gone, for good this time. Oh, and send in two squadrons to the base. Spartan and his comrades could probably do with some support. They are going to have a difficult time as it is getting inside that place.

* * *

Anicinàbe Space Station 'Tasquiqui', Medamud Debris Field

The Anicinàbe space station shook violently as the approaching ships unleashed their primary weapons against the long entry airlock system. The quadruple particle cannons of the new ships proved devastating, and exploded parts of the docking arms and landing area in seconds. The garrison's commander, Ogimà Tarnachi, staggered backwards as the very ground beneath his feet began to move. He was lightly built, like the rest of the Spires Clan, and wore a long robe that covered his tightly fitted breastplate. Black goggles and a breathing unit that was jammed around his nose and cheeks hid his face. An alarm blasted loudly, confirming his worst fear.

"I need reinforcements in the landing bay, now! The enemy has breached the airlock. They are coming in."

Ogimà Tarnachi moved back from the landing bay and to a set of steps that twisted around at ninety degrees down to a lower level. Two-dozen Anicinàbe clan warriors were already waiting for the enemy. All of them knelt and aimed their rifles at the blast door. The main landing area was vast and constructed from flat, smooth material that glistened like obsidian. Gigantic blast doors were lowered down, and outside those additional layers to protect against impacts or intruders. The facility was capable of handling dozens of ships and many shuttles and landers at any one time. The walls were bare, and marks showed signs of rust and decay that betrayed the place’s origin as being a derelict station from many centuries ago.

"Ogimà!" yelled a familiar voice.

He looked back and relaxed upon spotting a column of Spires soldiers. There were more than fifty, every one fully armoured and carrying a rifle across their chest.

Finally. If one fool makes it through, we will make them pay.

Ogimà Tarnachi reached for his sidearm as the first half of the unit reached the top of the steps. No sooner had the officer in charge reached Tarnachi, and the blast doors were ripped apart. Ogimà Tarnachi was blown back and crashed into a pair of his clan warriors. The three stumbled backwards even further, finally stopped by a single, much larger Anicinàbe warrior. The automatic shielding compensated for the breached airlocks. It wasn't much but enough to prevent a full and rapid depressurisation. Ogimà Tarnachi took aim with his pistol as the first shapes entered.

"Fire!"

The high-velocity Jezzail rifles carried by the clan warriors were accurate and powerful. Though relatively unsophisticated, they were capable of hurling dense slugs so fast that even the armour of robotic machines could be breached. A dozen grey warriors rushed forward, and every one of them was cut apart in just five seconds of shooting.

Yes. The fools have no understanding of tactics. They will suffer...and badly.

Another group of the foot soldiers kept coming, and this time they clambered over their fallen comrades while firing energy weapons. Narrow pulses of green energy punched through the armour of the Anicinàbe warriors, and each hit made a terrifying sound as the super-heated projectile exploded in a micro-explosion while inside the armour or flesh.

"Keep shooting!"

Four of his kin were down and twice as many wounded. Others helped drag the wounded back, yet still the machines came at them. Ogimà Tarnachi clutched at a fallen Jezzail and took aim. The shot was perfect and hit a machine right in the head area. The round flashed and then skidded off into the wall. Tarnachi turned to step back from the onslaught but then spotted a secondary door slide open to the left. A great horde of Anicinàbe warriors, this time armourless fanatics of the Red Scars. The defeated clan had been absorbed by the Spires and now used for forced labour, or as volunteers for shock troops.

Excellent timing.

Ogimà Tarnachi stepped up onto the vast landing platform. He waved to the other warriors around him.

"With me. We will drive them back!"

The Spires unleashed a terrible volley of gunfire, while the Red Scars threw themselves at the machines with no care for their own lives. None were armed with firearms in case of revolt, and instead made use of sharp stakes and clubs. More of the enemy machines were brought down, and for just a moment, it looked like they might win. Then came the monsters, the great ogres that Ogimà Tarnachi had heard of, but never seen.

What is this devilry?

From the breached blast doors they came, two warriors that towered over the rest. He could not make out the details, but they were big, covered in armour, and wielding plasma based weaponry that vaporised his kin with every hit. Two more moved in, and these were larger ones. They fired with more conventional weaponry and broke formation so that they could crash into the Red Scars. They swung their arms left and right, crushing bones and flesh while howling with blood lust. The other two moved more slowly and continued blasting. The guns on their arms cut down warrior after warrior.

This is insanity. These are not warriors. They are beasts from the abyss.

Ogimà Tarnachi was the first to turn and began to work his way back, clambering over the bodies of the dead and wounded. One reached up for help, and he pushed past, ignoring the pleas for help, or perhaps even mercy.

"Fall back!"

Ogimà Tarnachi nearly made it until a round from one of the smaller robots hit his leg and burst below the knee. The leg was cut in half, and he fell to the ground, instantly disabled. Other rounds struck his shoulder, and he was thrown back and pinned to the wall. From there he had the perfect view of the battle as the machines ran amok, cutting down his warriors with ease.

As the Anicinàbe began to flee, the enemy came nearer, and eventually directly under the bright yellow lights of the landing bay. He spotted the four large creatures as they hacked and stabbed like ancient monsters surrounded by their foes. Two laughed as they fought, their voices amplified through their speakers in their guttural alien tongue.

I...must...

Ogimà Tarnachi reached for a weapon and found only his secondary pistol, a small affair and unlikely to be of much use. He took aim and fired, one shot after another at the robotic warriors. As he shot, the smaller pair of massive creatures began to hack through the last of the Red Scars; those attempting to shoot back cut down by the large cannons on their shoulders. The weapons moved independently and fired at targets in a continuous slaughter, the hammer like hands of the machines snapping arms and decapitating his warriors like cattle at a slaughterhouse.

Stay alive, you must...have thing....

His vision began to fade, and as his life drained away, he noticed one of the warriors. It was not a machine. He could see that now. It walked like the men from Earth, but was larger and encased in powered metal armour. The head was sunk low in part of the torso. Tarnachi lifted his weapon and aimed at the machine. One of the other warriors called out a single word, a name he'd heard of, but never expected to come across. The massive warrior spun around and took aim at him.

Spartan.

CHAPTER THREE

Six intact worlds, and a seventh that lay a shattered husk. Yet of these, the jewel was Karnak. The riches and number of colonists on this one planet equalled the total of the other five. Karnak's location was optimal for climate, the result being that ninety percent of the Anicinàbe and Byotai settlers opted for Karnak, boosting its total population to more than three million souls. That world was covered in deep, drifting sands of stone and dust that left only one large landmass habitable. This region was divided up into four districts, all of them led by the capital city of Montu, situated deep inside the mountain district of Khagi. To the North of Khagi were the flat and featureless Northlands, with few features other than the distant range of low hills known by the Byotai as the Stone Teeth. They were over seven hundred kilometres to the North. To the South lay the three thousand kilometres of dust, sand, and rock, known commonly as the Great Sea. At the lowest inhabitable point of the world was the infamous depression, a region populated with hundreds of deep caverns that cut down into the heart of Karnak. This was the centre of the mining district, and home to over a million Byotai, most of which now lived under the yoke of their Anicinàbe masters.

History of the Tenth Quadrant

Assault Transport 'Echidna', Taxxu Prime, Centauri Alliance

The great sphere of colours shifted and twisted about as ships travelled through the Rift in time and space. A ship could enter on the one side back on the fringes of the ancient Helion territories, and then immediately appear on the other side at Taxxu, domain of the ancient enemy. Normally, there were few making the journey, but not today. One vessel after another came through, a major transport arriving every five to six hours. The most recent was the unmarked transport from the Human worlds of the Alliance. With a final blast of its engines, it twisted about its length to align with the newly enlarge docking area on the World Ship. Lights flashed all about the massive vessel, giving clear indication to the landing paths to any ships looking to land within its cavernous interior.

"Well, there it is," said Syala.

The young woman was strapped into her seat by a cross-strap arrangement that stopped her from drifting inside the ship. For all the sophistication of her engines and weapons, the vessel still lacked the niceties of artificial gravity. At her side was her twin sister, Arana, co-founder of the secretive Black Widows.

"Dark and unwelcoming, just as we expected."

Unlike Syala, Arana seemed far less excited to be here than her sister. The journey had been long, and not even the pair of Alliance Lightning fighters at their flanks seemed to improve her mood or her confidence in the venture they were about to embark upon.

"We gave up a repeat business contract on Kerberos for this. Our reputation will take a hit."

Syala leaned to her side and struck her sister in the shoulder. It was only light, but Arana still seemed far from impressed.

"Come on, you saw the numbers Gun and the Brigadier have called on. Every merc outfit in the old territories is moving in on this payday. This is no small mission. They are paying top price for any mercenary unit prepared to sign up. This will be the biggest off the books operation in history."

She looked back at the World Ship and opened her eyes even wider. It truly was the great wonder that had been rumoured about. The ship was something few had seen outside of the IAB, or those few brave souls that battled inside the Black Rift back in the bloody Biomech War. Images of it were kept strictly out of public view, but that didn't stop people from creating artistic impressions of what they expected to find. It was a rough looking vessel, much in common with a giant sea creature.

"We can't afford to miss out on this one."

Arana sighed, simultaneously gazing at the incredible sight before her.

"More like you can't afford to miss out on him."

The two exchanged a look that only siblings could possibly have understood.

"Who?"

That answer made Arana laugh for the first time in hours.

"Spartan. If this mission had been to haul oxen from one world to another, you would have said yes. All to spend some time with the man."

Syala gave her sister a knowing wink.

"You don't know him like I do. But...I'm sure he would if..."

Arana struck her sister with surprising ferocity, just as the internal speakers announced another message from the space control station on the World Ship.

"This is landing control. You are locked in and will proceed on path alpha three. Auto landing sequence in effect. Please remain hands off."

Arana lifted her hands in an exaggerated gesture from the controls, and then turned back to her twin. Though both were physically tough and experienced in the rigueur of combat, there was still no way to tell them apart. They were lightly tanned, and their long blonde hair almost always pushed back inside their armour.

"Keep it in your pants, sister. We've got work to do."

The ship groaned once more as it twisted about three more degrees so that its landing feet were correctly orientated. In just a few seconds they were through the outer seal and inside the upper dock. Many more ships were there, including a number of Alliance warships. Special brackets held dozens of drone fighters, including large numbers of the X1 support drone. These advanced craft were the equal of most races primary fighters, yet smaller and partially autonomous.

"Look," said Arana.

Her hand pointed off to the right where four much larger fighters were moving out on a motorised gantry.

"What are they?"

Syala brought up the schematics on the control computer. These were not taken from the main cortex, but instead from their private server. Though data on the cortex was useful, it was never as accurate as the sources they collated themselves. By disseminating their information and then merging it with that from the cortex, it was possible to collect data on almost any subject.

"I've got a proposal from CTC to Alliance military requisition for a craft called the XB49 Reaper. It's a heavy weapons support platform for fighter squadrons. It says here that several units have been purchased for testing by Orion Command."

Arana nodded as though she was vaguely interested.

"Reckon we could get one donated to the Widows? It's not like Orion Command is lacking in assets right now."

Syala laughed.

"If only. Something tells me we'll have to rely on our own modification for the time being. You know how the Alliance is with drone tech."

Arana looked back to the navigation system and checked their progress. A series of bars and ladders marked their approach vector, as well as their current speed in relation to their assigned platform. The World Ship's controllers moved the ship further inside and close to another transport that was manoeuvring out of the dock. Though designed to perform a similar function, this was in common with their basic designs.

The majority of the transports built in the Alliance were large, cumbersome looking vessels designed to haul goods over massive distances. In the past the majority of companies made use of low burn engines, including advanced Ion drives to keep ships moving on continuous loops between planets. The Interstellar Network of Spacebridges rendered that idea moot, and this ship had been designed to take full advantage of that fact. Gone was the ability to carry goods for months, or even years, and in its place cargo space and massive engine power. In effect, the assault transport was purpose built as a blockade-runner.

Echidna was unlike any other civilian vessel, and her origins as a military armoured transport were still easy to see. She might have had her military hardware removed, including her weapon systems, but she was still a tougher vessel than anything else found in the civilian sphere. As a Juggernaut class vessel, she was originally designed to transport armoured vehicles between worlds back in the days of the old Confederacy; and still bore the markings of multiple landings under hostile fire.

The large vessel moved onto its landing approach with little change in its orientation. Smaller nozzles fitted from bow to stern made subtle course corrections until they were just metres from the designated zone. If the landing were in a sealed atmosphere, the sound would have been deafening. Instead it was silent and gentle. With barely a groan from the platform, the ship landed, and a series of magclamps extended out and attached to the ship.

"We're in," said Arana.

Her voice was calm, but her sister could easily identify the relief. This was no ordinary landing, but an arrival at a place unlike any they had visited before. The view from the cockpit shifted as the platform moved from the outer dock and through a sealed system before reaching the pressurised inner dock of the vessel. Here they would find a breathable atmosphere, and more important, artificial gravity. Arana sighed as the platform positioned alongside a group of five others, and then lowered down to the flat lower level.

"Gravity. I can feel it pulling everything down."

Syala groaned with pleasure as she extended her arms and felt her muscles being forced to work. Even short journeys through space were something of a chore, and she hated the feeling that her body was softening after too long in zero gravity.

"Finally. My bones need this."

Arana was still more interested in the view of the ship that lay before them. It was much better lit than it had been in the past, but its origins as the orbital home of the Biomechs was still quite obvious.

"So, we made it through the Black Rift and to this place. I still can't believe it."

The two of them looked out at the vessel in total silence. The Taxxu System, previously known as the Black Rift, now served as the home to the surviving Biomechs and their legions of artificial foot soldiers, the Thegns. These rebels had proven influential in bringing the war to an end, and with Taxxu returned to them, they had become one of the Alliance's richest and most prized resources. The self-governing territory relied upon the marines and ships of the Alliance to keep it safe, while providing a distant location for the Alliance and their newest combat unit, the Interstellar Assault Brigade.

"Let's go."

It didn't take long for them to exit via one of the small ramps that led out under the chin of the transport. As Syala reached the bottom, she lowered herself to one knee and spoke quietly to herself, and then rose back to her feet. The landing platform was connected via a long jetty extension to the primary deck of the inner dock. Arana scanned the dock, finding heavy loaders, armoured soldiers, and walking machines, but no sign of anybody looking for them. There was just a single group of four IAB marines waiting at the end of the long jetty, and they were watching the transport with little interest.

"So, no welcoming party. Typical."

Syala pulled out a secpad from her flank and quickly scanned the information.

"Message from the Brigadier. He says the officers are observing unit demonstrations in the arena."

"And? What about us?"

Syala looked up at her.

"We're to bring a squad for the live firing demonstration."

Arana did not seem overly impressed.

"You can't beat a little advance notice, can you? Still, at least we were prepared for this. I told you to expect trouble when we got here."

She then pulled out her own device and sent commands to the squad leaders inside the transport. As she placed the unit back at her side, the large loading ramp under the primary cargo area began to open.

"True," replied Syala, "But what do you really expect? The Brigadier is calling in combat units for a reason, and you saw the last message when we came through the Rift. Time is critical, and he wants only the best."

Arana laughed.

"One thing we can promise them, little sister, is that until we get there, they haven't seen the best."

A loud thud announced the disconnection of the locking mechanism on the ramp. Then came a great hiss as clouds puffed out from the entrance. The ramp began to descend, its pistons screeching as it dropped lower and lower. It was slow and took almost thirty seconds before it reached the ground with a dull thunk. Down came a dozen armoured warriors, each attired in customised black body armour, much of which came from old Confederate Army stores. It was bulkier than the gear normally worn by marines and designed to absorb greater damage in assault scenarios. Additional plates increased the bulk around the collar and limbs, and they appeared a little ungainly as they moved.

On the backs of each of the Widows were detachable packs, overbearing in both size and weight, with vents at the bottom and sides. The group assembled in a single line, shoulder-to-shoulder, and waited for their orders. Arana walked along them, checking their armour and weapons.

"This is the Biomech World Ship, home of the IAB, and the assembly point for the special operations unit. You've seen the proposed pay. This is a tier Alpha operation, with a high mortality rate, and the rewards compensate for it."

While Arana continued to speak, Syala moved to each of the warriors and rechecked their gear. The armour was well fitted and apart from the marks and scratches of battle, webbing, pouches, and extra gear were all carefully positioned so as to not get in the way, still allowing the maximum combat load to be carried. All carried sheathed firearms on their forearms, and their rifles and carbines were attached to mount points on their armour.

"We do not know the test, but you have been through hell before. Watch your comrades, and keep your eye on the objective."

All twelve responded at once, like a line of machines repeating an order.

"Good. Now, follow us."

Arana then turned to her sister who was still checking the harness on one of the short warriors.

"Syala. Do you know the route to the arena?"

The young woman hesitated for a second.

"Yes, I do. Spartan sent me the schematic for the public area. Follow me."

They walked to the end of the jetty, whereupon the four marines blocked their path. None of them spoke, but their weapons were ready to hand, and they clearly meant business. Arana indicated towards her thirteen comrades.

"Arana and Syala, commanders of the Black Widows. We're..."

One of the men looked at the two of them with an expressionless gaze.

"Hello, ladies, welcome to Kha'Dri, and Taxxu."

The man sounded almost bored as he spoke.

"For your information, this ship, as well as this entire system operates under the military jurisdiction of Alliance Orion Command. We might be a long way from the AJ Naval Station, but we still operate under standard military regulations. There are no exceptions."

The sisters looked to each other, and neither looked impressed at their welcome. It sounded as though the man had given the speech already, but that was of little concern to them. Arana sighed and moved closer again to the man.

"Understood. Now, we are..."

"I know why you're here."

The sergeant, a gruff looking man with a shaved head and different colour eyes said the words slowly, almost like he was reading from a sheet. He squinted as he looked at the two sisters, and then to the rest of the squad. He seemed particularly intrigued by their armour.

"All female, huh?"

He shook his head with amusement, so Syala moved closer to him so that their faces were just centimetres from each other.

"What's your point?"

The man tightened his brow and then sighed.

"You're late. The others are already busy in the arena. Do you need me to get a marine to show you the way?"

Syala shook her head.

"No, we're good, Sergeant. We might be women, but I'm sure we can find our own way."

The man smiled at her in a sarcastic, knowing way.

"Of course you do. Very well...that way."

He stepped aside and waved them through without even checking the others as they entered. In any other facility, the fourteen warriors may have seemed some kind of a threat, but on this facility they were a pinprick. The journey to the arena was longer than expected and gave the two of them time to examine the interior of the World Ship at a leisurely pace, as well as watching the bewildering array of soldiers and mercenaries that littered the place. In just four hundred metres, they'd already encountered Byotai mercenaries, Khreenk pilots, Human marines, and even an entire platoon of fully armoured Thegns.

A long ramp led up from the deck and to the next level, providing a perfect few of the sprawling open space in the inner dock. The sisters stopped for a few seconds to look back. Syala seemed positively excited, but Arana was much more apprehensive.

"This is no Alliance operation, no matter what the Brigadier said. This is a black ops organisation, and a big one."

Syala slapped her sister on the pack, the metal and plastic of their armour making a cracking sound from the impact.

"Of course. Why else would they be looking for people like us? We do tend to do the jobs that are right under the radar, do we not? And is this place not the most under the radar location you could ever find?"

Arana had little to say, so they turned back to the ramp and onwards into the vessel. Few outside of the organisations involved with Taxxu knew anything about the technology programme. The World Ship and the long lost colonies of the Biomechs were a goldmine that provided scientific discoveries on a scale never before dreamed of. The rebels were more than willing to trade this information, in exchange for help in rebuilding their long ruined sector of space. Of all the structures now orbiting the planet of Taxxu Prime, the largest was always the Biomech World Ship known as Kha’Dri. It now functioned as a mighty starbase, barracks, and shipyard for the Alliance.

The interior of the Biomech World Ship always seemed to sound the same, that curious mixture of metal on metal, shouting, and then the pneumatic hammer of machinery. In the past it had been Biomechs and their war machines; now it was the men and women of the Interstellar Assault Brigade. The World Ship was an orbital behemoth that floated over the Biomech planet of Taxxu Prime and functioned as both the home of the surviving Biomech rebels and the IAB. The group rounded the final corner and into the wide corridor that led to the arena. On each side were great sculptures of warriors and war machines. But as they moved closer, it seemed they were actually the real thing, frozen and dormant. Syala appeared excited.

"Spartan told me about this part, the hall of fallen warriors, or something."

Then she stopped and pointed ahead to the great domed structure.

"And that there, that is the place."

Arana sighed with relief.

"Good, about time. Last thing we need is to arrive late and miss the party. We've turned down good work for this operation."

They stopped at the entrance to let a squad of Maverick armoured marines leave the area. They were massive, but the construction used every conceivable option to keep them as agile as possible, with weight saved on the limbs and torso. All of the Mavericks bore the faded crimson now used by the IAB, most of them showing more bare metal than paint. On the flat sections were the three bold letters that marked out the Brigade. They moved gracefully, with the advanced servos and motors making little, if any noise. They were unlike anything seen before in Alliance use, the heads built directly into the torso; an idea Spartan had suggested, based on his experience with the Biomechs. Two of them helped to carry a third that was missing part of its lower leg.

"Clear the arena!" yelled an officer from inside.

The man stepped from the entrance and spotted the new arrivals. He approached them and extended his hands.

"Lieutenant Kipling, I'm supervising the roll call and capability assessment. You've arrived in the nick of time. We'll be leaving in less than six hours. According to my file...you've brought three squads of...Black Widows, as requested. Is that right?"

The sisters looked to each other and then back to him.

"That is correct. This is 1st Squad, ready for the demonstration."

The marine officer wore an almost complete set of M-3 armour that covered him from neck to feet. There were few others currently attired in combat armour, but with so much of his body still recovering from surgery, the only way he could continue to command was to take advantage of the automatic drug and monitoring system of the suit. He moved awkwardly, and though he might have been able to hide his injuries from some, it was still obvious to the sisters.

"Well. Your reputation stands you in good stead. We'd ideally like to take you all, but numbers are limited. It's strictly those that offer us specific capabilities. Heavy assault and unit training are all covered, the only role remaining and reserved for your unit is of recon, deception, and sabotage. We need a heavily armed and armoured unit to offer distractions and confusion during full-scale operations. There are three units competing for it."

Arana grabbed his arm, and his expression changed immediately.

"Wait a minute. You've double booked us? We've given up good paying work for this gig."

Her frustration was obvious, but she could also see the officer was not amused. The Merc units might not technically be part of the chain of command, but they were expected to at least respect the rank when working together. Arana released her grip but remained close to the man.

"I know, and we have already arranged for a retainer fee. It is in your account and will more than cover three months back work, even if you do not accept this job."

Arana turned to check with her sister.

"Fair enough," she said, simultaneously checking their account on the cortex via her secpad. It didn't take long before she gave the nod.

"He's right. They paid up."

She did her best to not sound surprised, especially as the money was more than they would have been paid had they been working elsewhere for three months solid.

"Now," began the Lieutenant, "We need you to run the course on the network details we sent to you."

Arana nodded.

"No problem, we're ready."

"Very well. Follow me to the start zone."

They followed, with the dozen heavily armoured shapes of the Widows right behind them. Their dark coloured armour made them almost disappear as they moved in and out of shadows. Quiet voices spoke in the background as the famed combat unit entered one side of the arena. Syala had expected it to be open and airy, especially after Spartan's detailed description of the place, but it had more in common with the sandy surface of Karnak, with rocky walls and small hills.

"Impressive scenario," said Syala.

She then turned back to look at their squad.

"You're team Alpha, and you've trained for this work. Be ready."

A loud klaxon roared, but was almost drowned out by the sound of heavy machinery as a pair of Maverick armoured marines went at each other. The arena was so big the scenario area took up little over two-thirds total space, the rest still being used by those practicing martial arts and close-ranged techniques. The Lieutenant moved back to them.

"Okay, the scenario has been reset. You are leading a diversionary assault on a strongpoint in the defences."

He pointed to the structure in the distance.

"Your ground forces are ready to hit the wall half a kilometre away in ten minutes. You have until then to draw away as many as you can."

"What are our numbers in the main assault, and what are the defences?" Syala asked.

Lieutenant Kipling seemed happy with the questions and nodded to a projector unit showing the model of the mock battle arena.

"The region is dry, approximately standard gravity. The defences are based upon the existing civilian structures and heavily reinforced. We have large towers at key points. One is modified from a natural gas wellhead that reaches up almost thirty metres."

He pointed off behind him to an odd pillar cast from thick, hardened metal and curved to deflect energy, as well as provide a clear route from which fluid could travel. It wasn't a perfect recreation, but the impression given was of a battered, but hastily reinforced oil wellhead or similar in the middle of a desert. If she closed one eye, and ignored the shape of the arena she could almost imagine the site was real.

"For purposes of the simulation, you will assume that this section, not present in the simulation, is the target for three squads of Jötnar, all equipped with assault-level weapons and siege equipment. They are the lead element, and will then be followed up by a company of ground troops."

Arana raised her eyebrows and looked to her sister.

"So, our fourteen will keep them busy, and long enough for more than a hundred and fifty to hit the wall. Suggestions?"

Syala grinned. Arana had always taken the lead, even when they were children. Syala, on the other hand, was the more direct and much wilder. If they hadn't been twins, it would have been easy to assume Arana was a number of years older. She answered her own question.

"We have the armour and firepower. The best diversion is one that doesn't look like a diversion."

"Exactly," replied Arana, "We will give the impression that we are really the primary assault, and how do we do that?"

Syala nodded slowly.

"By hitting the defences so hard that if they don't redeploy, we will perform the actual breach ourselves."

Lieutenant Kipling looked at the two in surprise.

"You intend on assaulting the wall, with fourteen?"

Syala answered for them.

"You'll see, soon enough."

Lieutenant Kipling ensured the Mavericks were fully cleared of the area before directing the Black Widows to their starting position. As they waited, a large, transparent screen started to move down from the ceiling, providing a barrier between the free-fire zone and anybody else that might be there.

"You have thirty seconds for the atmospherics. When the siren sounds three times, you're in. Good luck."

With that, he limped off and through the gap under the barrier, just before it reached the ground with a thud. The sisters looked to each other, and Arana spoke first.

"Wide dispersal, and use the manoeuvring jets?"

Syala nodded.

"Oh, yes. We confuse the hell out of them and then smash them hard."

* * *

"Wait a minute. I want to see this. I can't believe they've changed so quickly. It's been more than a month since we extracted them from the Tasquiqui space station."

Spartan nodded to himself.

"Mr Walker was right, after all. They want nothing more than payback against the Anicinàbe."

Spartan wiped his brow with a towel and then turned away from the arena for a moment. The interior of the World Ship rang out with the sounds of close quarter weapons and gunfire, but the sight of one of the new units proved far more interesting to him. Khan stepped to his side and fidgeted, clearly bored with waiting, but Spartan seemed especially curious.

"That’s the last of the new platoons. Nearly two hundred of them, and all with at least a month’s training. I'd still like to know how CTC managed to locate them so fast. Neither us, nor the Byotai knew the base was there."

Khan lifted his shoulders, shrugging in the exaggerated way that was so easy for his kin to perform.

"Yeah. I heard the prisoners weren't just from ships, though. Others I've spoken to say they were evicted from the planets by both sides."

Spartan looked at him and noticed Khan looked uncomfortable. Khan grumbled and looked back at the new unit.

"That's what they are saying. Strange. Handy that Walkers' CTC agents just happened to come across information on the site. Otherwise where would these prisoners have ended up?"

Spartan looked at him and rubbed his chin as his mind began to wander. Most of the inhabited nine quadrants of the Empire were unknown to him. Few ever visited regions away from the core territories in the Trinity quadrants, but this new group fascinated him. They were classed as equals in the Empire, yet they had been pushed away after fleeing the Tenth Quadrant until they felt they had no choice but to become Exiles. If Khan's information was correct, it might not have even been the Anicinàbe that evicted them.

What is Walker up to? I've asked him three times now, and each time he fobs me off with coincidence.

 Khan pointed to the soldiers as they continued onwards.

"In any case, they performed...well, I'd say better than can be expected in the time we had. The half-blood Tenskwatawa might have appeared out of the wilderness, but he has brought them together and more important for us, he's stopped them arguing."

He paused and then nodded in the direction of the column of soldiers.

"If I had to guess, I'd say most have at least some combat training. Doesn't that seem a little odd?"

Spartan couldn't argue with that, even though he found it very disconcerting that the large group of argumentative Exiles seemed to fall in line upon seeing this one individual. He was convinced more was going on, but neither High Command, or Mr Walker and CTC would accept that. The official line was that the Exiles had sought assistance to return to Karnak, after being refused rightly to return to the Empire.

So why have we never come across this Tenskwatawa before, or these Exiles?

Spartan lifted his eyebrows in irritation. Tenskwatawa was just as much of a surprise, and had arrived with a small retinue just five days after the Exiles, as they were now known, were rescued by Spartan and his comrades. Unlike them, he'd come from somewhere near the Tenth Quadrant, though nobody would say where. He looked at the figure and shook his head once more. Khan could see who he was looking at and grimaced.

"He might be some kind of spiritual leader, but I can tell you now, he doesn't know much about commanding large military units. I don't think he is up to the job. You saw the assault drills, and they were adequate at best. They will need a lot more training if they are to do the job on..."

"I know," said Spartan, cutting off his friend before he could finish. He found Khan's pronunciation of the leader of the Exiles to be most amusing, "But look at them move. Whatever they lack in skill or experience, they make up for in spirit. Have you ever seen such a group like this?"

Khan grumbled.

"Look, I don't know his story, and I'll bet there's more to it than he is letting on. I'll give him credit for being one hell of a unifier, though. He's turned an entire force of argumentative Exiles into a force with a single goal. We could do with somebody like him back home. It would have solved a lot of problems."

Khan didn't seem quite so positive.

"Maybe. But what exactly is their goal? Are they heading to Karnak to help their Byotai kin, or do they just want to stake a claim like everybody else? You saw the attitude of the pure-blood Byotai to them."

Spartan then turned his attention to those at the front of the unit. It was a single large formation of eighty soldiers, and they marched four abreast as though out on parade. They moved away from the arena in silence, with only their armoured boots making a sound on the ground. Though heavily equipped, they still had more in common with the foot soldiers of the Helions or the Anicinàbe than the advanced and well-equipped warriors of the Alliance Marine Corps or the Interstellar Assault Brigade.

Just ahead of the unit was the lightly armoured shape of Tenskwatawa. Though he wore body armour, his arms were bare, as was his face. He carried a staff in one hand and pressed it lightly to the ground as he walked, making a sharp clacking sound.

"Spartan," said Tenskwatawa.

Spartan nodded to the leader of the Exiles.

"Tenskwatawa, your soldiers are improving every day. I commend you. Some seem to have more experience than we were told to expect."

Tenskwatawa made a gesture with his face, but said no more and continued past Spartan and Khan. Each of the soldiers carried a Helion or modified Thegn firearm on their shoulders, the same equipment that littered the surface of both Helios Prime and Spascia. The soldiers were of vastly different builds, some as tall and thin as an Anicinàbe clan warrior, others little different in shape to a Khreenk or even Byotai civilian. Any identifying features were hidden by their heavily modified iron coloured helmets and body armour. Each piece had been carefully modified from pieces taken from the battlefields, some of which still bore the marks of old, now long lost combat units.

"They look more like an army of the dead," said Khan.

Spartan agreed with him. There was something about the expressions on Tenskwatawa's face that made him uneasy, yet he had nothing other than suspicions to share with anybody else. He tried to look positive, knowing something was not quite right about the whole thing.

"Based on their history and their gear, you're not far wrong, my friend. I'm surprised most of them want to return to the Quadrant after what's been happening."

"True. Half-bloods, or anybody else with previous connections to the Anicinàbe border clans, are not exactly popular these days. I doubt they are loved by the Anicinàbe any more than by the Byotai traditionalists. What home do they really have, anymore?"

Spartan found it amusing that his friend knew so much of the Byotai, but he could understand how Khan might feel something for their plight; as well as his own personal angst with the Byotai conservatives that had created a leadership cast to include people like Kras. Khan's own kin had hardly been well treated in the past, but they continued to do their part even amongst the discrimination and hate. The politics of the Byotai were relatively unknown outside of the Empire, but enough to see there was a growing schism between the traditionalist Imperials, and the new generation seeking closer contact and integration with the other races of the region.

Spartan turned his attention to the soldiers and did his best to cast politics to the back of his mind. Their armour was not the enclosed systems as used by Alliance marines, but a series of armour plates designed to protect core body parts. Loose clothing then covered the rest of the body so that it was impossible to tell them apart, or even to uncover what race they might be. Several of the technicians watched with interest as the unit moved away, led by a single IAB sergeant whose voice carried throughout the entire level.

"So, there we have it. We have orders from High Command to put this armada together, all mercenaries and Exiles, but with IAB leadership. We just need to do our job and keep them alive."

Khan couldn't argue with that and moved back to his previous position in the arena. Spartan, like his comrades was stripped to the waist and began to stretch, moving his muscles and preparing for what was to come. To an outsider he might look like a grizzled old marine, with his bulked up torso and rough beard, but to those who knew him a little better, he was much more than that.

Spartan was more than just the commander of the IAB's first battalion. Even his rank of Major told little of his story. Spartan was a famed marine, veteran pit fighter, and co-founder of both the Special Weapons Division and the IAB. Even that was just the tip of the iceberg for a man loved and hated in equal measure on a dozen worlds. Spartan was a survivor, a man that had taken on all enemies, and still emerged on top. Yet for all his skill and bravery, he had lost as much as he had gained. His only son and wife were dead, killed in the Biomech War, and all traces of his family wiped from both his memory and all official records.

"You ready yet?" Khan asked.

Spartan tensed his shoulder and laughed.

"I'm always ready, old man. This is just to give you time to mentally prepare. In the meantime, the two of you have work to do. Back to it, I want to see what you've been working on."

Spartan towered above the other men and women of the IAB, and it wasn't all due to his physique. He was hardly a young man and now well into middle age; it might be expected that he would have retired from the physical struggles of combat years earlier. His body bore many scars, from bullet and blade wounds sustained in combat, to the bone crunching torture of confinement aboard a Biomech warship. Yet for all of this trauma, his body was in better shape than at any time in the past. His upper body was toned and healthy, and he moved as quickly as a man half his age. There was something more, though, a willingness to use the techniques and technology of other races to improve him that bordered on the inhuman.

Spartan volunteered for some of the first tests of the Biomech equipment discovered at Taxxu, and the results were impressive. The regeneration techniques had done more than just prolonged his body's lifespan, it had rejuvenated muscles and organs. Combined with a rigorous fitness regime, Spartan was at his physical peak, and not even the towering monstrosities of Khan and Olik could unnerve him.

Olik jumped past and struck at Khan's chest. His fists impacted with dull, meaty thuds, but none of it was enough to slow his comrade down.

Spartan moved to the left, stepping quickly as he watched the pair of Jötnar fighting. Khan almost hit Spartan as they staggered to the side, but a quick twist from Spartan brought him out of danger.

"Watch your ground; you need to control the environment and yourselves."

"What?" Khan complained.

Olik jabbed twice at his face as Khan looked back to Spartan.

"Control the space around you. Do not stumble and stagger about like a pair of drunkards."

Khan muttered and then pushed past Olik, striking him in the ribs. Olik and Khan were stripped down and wrestling, in a fashion that betrayed some kind of formal training only vaguely related to that taught in the Marine Corps. Khan swept his leg low and caught Olik at the back of the knee. He crashed down, rolled to the right, and sprung back up.

"Not bad," said Khan, "but it won't win the fight."

They locked limbs, and Spartan shouted encouragement. They were not the only warriors present in the old arena, especially as the scenario-training zone filled most of it now. There was still more than enough space for another dozen pairs of fighters, and never before had he seen so many different people participating in the mixed sparring while guns blazed away nearby.

"Reset, and try to maintain your distance. You both have limbs, you know."

Khan looked at Spartan, just as Olik shoulder barged him so hard, both collapsed to the ground in a heap. Spartan shook his head.

"What did I tell you? Both of you get up."

Khan jumped to his feet, but Olik was slower. Spartan watched him carefully as he rose and crunched his shoulders.

"Spartan. We only fall when we fight each other. Against any other foe..."

He laughed, but quietly, almost mockingly.

"...anybody else will not be an issue."

Spartan sighed and then stepped closer, pulling his tunic away to reveal nothing more than a loose shirt. He was a big man, and the upgrades provided by the Special Weapons Division, alongside his strict physical regime, now gave him the figure of a classical warrior of old. For all of his size, he was a child next to monstrous forms of the two Jötnar.

"Really?" Olik asked.

Khan chuckled, stepping aside as the two faced off against each other.

"I'm just a man, Olik. And I promise you, I can fell you like a tree, the same as any other."

Olik looked to Khan who gave him no more than a raised eyebrow. He looked back to Spartan.

"Really? You prepared to stake your reputation on that?"

Spartan laughed.

"I don't care about my reputation, Olik. My actions are my own. Others can think what they like."

Olik took a step to the right and kept his hands hung down low. It was a relaxed, yet arrogant stance by a warrior that expected no major attack, and certainly not one he needed to be too concerned about. Spartan lowered his centre of gravity and moved in closer at a speed completely unexpected by Olik.

"Interesting, old man. Are you trying to intimidate me?"

Spartan said nothing and instead increased his pace. The length of the steps was modest, but not easy to follow. To an outsider it may have had more in common with a dance movement. In reality, he was manoeuvring around Olik and carefully establishing his distance.

"Very well, let's do this," said the Jötnar.

With no warning, Olik's left arm rushed out, only to meet open air. Spartan leaned a short distance, and then took another half step, closing the gap once more. The distance was dropping each moment until Spartan was close enough to strike. He tensed his body and then leapt up; giving every indication he would hit Olik in the face. The Jötnar laughed as he struck out again, but Spartan was already falling, having avoided contact and then ducking down to avoid a second strike.

"Now you're going down."

Using all of his strength and speed, Spartan smashed his foot in at the back of Olik's knee. The impact was incredibly powerful and sent the warrior stumbling forward. He tried to steady himself, but Spartan charged his flank. To both Olik and Khan's astonishment, the Jötnar warrior was falling to the ground. The impact sent a shudder through the floor, leaving Spartan on his feet, his upper body glistening with sweat and a beaming grin across his face.

"See how that works?"

Olik snorted at the insult and forced himself back to his feet. Khan stepped in front and shook his head.

"Wait, look who's arrived."

Olik let out a long blast of air and then moved to Spartan. It looked as though the pair would fight, but Olik reached out, grabbed Spartan, and bear hugged him until releasing him from the iron grip.

"Well?" Spartan asked.

Khan lifted one eyebrow.

"A certain pair of blonds."

Olik shook his head and walked away from where they had been fighting, and to the line of other personnel busy watching through the transparent screen at the training scenario. To the left was a group of fourteen armour-clad warriors, and to the right, the defensive structure Spartan and the others had built to help with training.

"They know you have Grunts defending it, right?" Olik asked.

Spartan shrugged.

"They'll find out soon enough. Syala said they had a few surprises in store for us. We shall see."

The training area had now filled with low-level dust, and wind blasted it off into the distance, creating the effect of a light sand storm. Movement on the wall and the tower betrayed the shapes of the defenders, and even the cloaks thrown over their armour proved unable to fully disguise them.

"There are six guards on the walls and an emplaced weapon on the wellhead. If they are caught out in the open, they will fail, just like the Helion Mercs did yesterday."

The klaxon blasted as expected, and when the sounds completed, the battle began.

"Here they go."

The fourteen warriors fanned out in pairs, two groups remaining in the middle and heading for the minimal cover offered by the fake looking rocks. The reduced overall floor space, as well as the many lamps hanging down from the domed ceiling spoilt the illusion of reality. The remaining ten were now out in the open, and Spartan expected they would be seen at any moment.

What are they doing?

Ten bright flashes rippled throughout the arena, and it looked as if the Widows had been hit, but each of them lifted up from the ground. They bounced more than ten metres in the air and directly forwards. As they began to fall, they activated the jets once more and then right above the walls.

"When the hell did they get those things?" said Olik.

That was the point where the four on the ground opened fire. Their coilguns released magnetised slugs that struck down a pair of guards on the wall. Before the defenders could return fire, the ten Widows had landed. The next ten seconds consisted of deadly close-ranged shooting, leaving the wall clear of defenders and three of the Widows hit with simulated bullets.

"I like it," said Spartan, "but what about the gun?"

In answer to his question, the emplaced heavy weapon opened up, striking one of the Widows and forcing the others to scatter. One of the group activated her propulsion unit three times until she appeared suspended in mid-air above the weapon. She was at the apex of the curved flight, choosing that moment to drop a thermite proximity charge down. She then dropped down on the other side, landing behind the wall as the charge flashed and wiped out the entire emplacement.

"Wow!"

Khan and Spartan turned to their comrade.

"That took them less than twenty seconds. For what, the loss of one, and three injured?"

Spartan began to laugh. He reached out with both arms and embraced the pair.

"They didn't just provide a distraction. They breached the defences and secured this entire section, single-handed."

The two Jötnar nodded in agreement.

"We've got to have them," said Khan.

"I agree," added Olik.

Spartan turned back and watched the two leaders of the unit land back down on the ground and approach the transparent screen. The one that destroyed the emplacement deactivated the front of her helmet, and the tips of her blonde hair spilled out.

"Syala," said Spartan, almost whispering her name through his lips.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Byotai Empire did not consist just of one reptilian race, and contrary to the opinion of many, it was a society where all species were able to live together in relative harmony. Even the offspring of mixed races were accepted as equals, a rarity of the many societies bound by the Helion Nexus. Like the worlds of humanity, over time a great number of different races had settled, intermixed, and fought throughout the nine Quadrants of the Empire. The melting pot of worlds that made up these quadrants counted over thirty distinct species, the many types of Byotai cold-bloods representing the majority. Even a small number of Helion synthetics, survivors of the first Biomech War, now lived under their protection. As always, there was an exception in the Empire, and that was the single colony planet of Sovax, a place considered a holy place among the Byotai. Of the fifty or more colonies of the first three quadrants, known as the Trinity, this was the only one classed as a sanctuary to the wild Sekieki. These ancient ancestors of the Byotai are as primitive as they are deadly, and myth tells of the time when the Byotai even rode some of these creatures into battle.

The Byotai Empire: Its People and Customs

Montu, Khagi District, Karnak

The storm had reached its peak, and the abrasive clouds of dust swirled about the ruinous city like a murderous phantom. It was in an odd situation, now much larger than ever, and yet it had never been in such a poor state of repair. Few buildings had collapsed, but there were signs of the fighting that had lasted just days almost a year earlier. Some walls were broken, and black marks showed where fires had burned for several days. Two armoured crawlers had since been scrapped. Had they remained, those Byotai that did not leave would certainly have used them as a rallying call.

Under the stewardship of the Byotai, the underground city of Montu had been quite a spectacle. During its period as the capital of the Byotai free settlements in the Tenth Quadrant, it experienced growth little different to Gold rush cities in the American West on Old Earth. This was known as something of a golden age to those that had never experienced it, when Byotai settlers and families left their homes to set up on these distant and barren worlds. The riches beneath the surface were vast, the surprisingly pure ores greatly prized. One year working on the border worlds could provide a lifetime’s salary, but with it came a number of risks only the hardiest or desperate would ever consider.

The cause of the great rush for riches was a consequence of the Byotai tunnelling so deeply. With so many ships and people in the area, it was critical that engineers built lavish facilities able to house tens of thousands of people. Like all Byotai worlds, the buildings were designed to be both strong and functional. Their predilection for heavy stonework and tall columns worked perfectly in this place. Few of the buildings were more than a storey tall, the remainder deep underground and hidden from the frequent dust storms. Only a few modest dust trails led inside, the majority of transport operated via the maglev rail system. It reached out to connect to all the settlements and mining hubs on the planet that were controlled by the Anicinàbe. All others had been deliberately disabled to prevent use and the tunnels now barricaded.

On the surface, the Montu Spaceport was something of a gem. Originally, no more than a wide-open space, with a few storage areas for fuel bowsers, it was now greatly increased in size. There were scores of prefabricated structures to house dropships and scout fighters. The spaceport had always been the biggest on Karnak, and now it was one of the largest seen on any planet in Byotai space. It was not just useful for the planet. It had become the de facto stopping off point for all traffic in the Quadrant.

In the generations since the withdrawal it had fallen into disuse, and many of the buildings around the landing platforms pulled down. Dust covered many more until the spaceport had all but vanished, but not now. The Anicinàbe had transformed Montu in the last three months, and no Byotai would ever recognise the place again.

With the stalemate on Karnak, and the partial collapse of the Khagi front following the mysterious intervention of fighting machines and mercenaries, the Anicinàbe clans were forced to land in great numbers. Thirteen clans in total had moved into the Quadrant, four concentrating on the world of Karnak. While the Spires consolidated their hold on Khagi, other clans swept in to drive the Byotai from the weakly protected settlements. Only the industrial sites with their large underground facilities had any chance of holding. The bulk of the remaining Red Scars consolidated their hold on captured territory in the Southern Depression and established multiple strong points.

On the opposite side of Karnak, elements of the newly arrived Zuni and Kolchan clans had encircled the remaining Byotai settlements in the Northern hills; establishing forward positions from which to harass the settlers. Each day they would send in small teams on hit and run missions against outposts, refineries, and transport columns. These were only two of the thirteen clans now in the Quadrant. Most sent in a portion of their total forces, but the Spires did the unthinkable and relocated their entire clan to Karnak. They had now landed with their entire population. Adults, youths, and elders, hundreds of thousands of land hungry individuals all looking to stake a claim. The newly invigorated Spires Clan almost caused the total loss of Karnak. There were over a quarter of a million of them, perhaps more, on the planet. Small outposts existed with no more than ten kilometres between each of them to provide outer defences to the city. In a short time, the resources and manpower of the Spires Clan had changed Khagi district, and with it the balance of power in the Tenth Quadrant.

It wasn't the numbers of individuals that made the greatest change to Montu; it was the militarisation of the city. Montu had never been particularly well defended, its geographical location its best defence from the elements. Now it might just easily be a military fortress on a moon orbiting the Black Rift. Every part of the Byotai infrastructure of the city had been transformed from one supporting a mining community into something that could provide sanctuary to the entire military of the Spires Clan.

One of the radar tracking systems rotated, checking the skies for signs of aircraft and spaceships. Few Byotai vessels ever made it this close to the city, but the Anicinàbe had learnt the hard way to make sure the skies near the city were kept as clear and safe as possible. One minute was all it would take for a heavy transport to break through the outer cordon and land in the spaceport, right at the centre of the city and the heartlands of the new Spires territory.

The high-pitched whine of a weapon system announced the movement of a gun mount. A quadruple set of anti-air missiles twisted to the left, moving slowly as they followed the shape of a dark object off into the distance. The motors whined again, and the system entered safe mode as an Anicinàbe aircraft moved into view. One flash followed another off into the distance, and then two missiles streamed out from a hidden position and towards the lightly armed aircraft. It twisted about, separately trying to evade the weapon, and for a second it looked as though it would work. The pilot brought it down low and fast, and the first missile overshot and struck the ground. The second detonated just behind the Anicinàbe dropship. The aircraft was fast and incredibly agile, yet even this was not enough to avoid the state-of-the-art missile causing catastrophic damage. The proximity-fused warhead sent shards of hardened metal into its hull and knocked out one of the two engines immediately.

The mortally wounded Anicinàbe dropship fell from the sky and towards the spaceport. One engine belched smoke, and flames licked through the insides of the vessel. For one brief moment it seemed the pilot would be able to land it safely, but then another explosion ruptured the remaining engine, and it dropped like a stone. Unlike similar craft used by the Alliance and others, the Anicinàbe Hornets were lightweight and left completely open to the elements. This was all in accordance with their battlefield role as scouts and light transports, allowing the soldiers inside to fire their weapons or to deploy directly into battle. The side effect was that they were poorly armoured and completely incapable of orbital entry, having to be dropped by larger craft or launched from bases such as Montu.

"The fools," said Ogimà Nakoma.

She turned away from the view and looked to her four senior commanders, each bearing the scars and marks of the recent fighting with the Byotai. Off behind them was a long line of soldiers, a full cohort of nearly five hundred warriors. They waited in their long lines, their rifles up against their shoulders and armour hidden beneath long flowing robes.

"They must have strayed too close to the Caldos commune. I've marked the no-go areas quite clearly," said Siwili.

The old soldier was bigger than the others and moved with a swagger that betrayed his confidence. The other three appeared nervous, but he merely chuckled and nodded in the direction of the dropship.

"They will not make it here. Better to burn in the dust basin than damage the city."

He then pointed to a battery of ground vehicles, all of which had their weapons pointing up to the sky.

"Any closer and I'll bring them down myself."

On cue, the craft disappeared behind a hill just two kilometres away. A moment later came the sound of a faint explosion and then a rising column of black smoke. Ogimà Nakoma snorted with derision.

"That is just wonderful, Senior Centurion."

She said his rank slowly, as if she wanted to remind him of his position in the clan. The loose confederation of clans had used their own system of leaders and chiefs for centuries. The ancient system of organisation was only reintroduced in the last three months, and many were still struggling to grasp its usefulness, Ogimà Nakoma amongst them. She'd only introduced it formally because of the decree issued by the War Leader Tahkeome. A distant crackle of gunfire was probably the noise coming from exploding munitions. In any case, she didn't bother looking at the damage and stepped back to inspect her commanders and warriors. As she walked past the first of them, she began to speak.

"We have been fighting on Karnak for almost a year now, and still the Byotai remain."

She wasn't expecting an answer. She simply wanted them to know her disappointment.

"The full strength of our clan in now spread out on this wasteland. If we fail, we have no home to return to."

As she said the words, she looked out at the great plain marking the vast boundaries of Montu. Dozens of transports were position in long rows, and column after column of infantry marched out. Many of the ships had sustained damage from breaking the blockade, and two were still burning where they had been forced to crash on the farthest point of the spaceport.

"Frankly, I am surprised our brothers all made it here. Rumours of the great Byotai war fleet were exaggerated."

She licked her lips.

"Montu is our strongest facility, and it must be held, no matter the cost. No campaign can be truly successful on this world without the starport and this defensible location. Whoever controls Montu, controls Karnak."

She stopped and kicked at the earth beneath her feet.

"Karnak has always belonged to our people, and we will retake it, or die in the trying. Our clan will burn its soul into the rock of this world."

There was a deathly silence, punctuated by the odd crackle from the still burning aircraft. The Anicinàbe foot soldiers were well trained, but poorly suited to the kind of attrition warfare favoured by the Byotai. Where the reptilian creatures preferred grinding siege warfare and gunfights, they would sooner adopt hit and run tactics. Replying on the speed and agility of their transports to avoid protracted battle.

"My Lord. He has arrived."

Ogimà Nakoma's face twitched at those few words. Her eyes narrowed, and her brow tightened.

"Prepare the warriors for his arrival."

* * *

300 Kms North of Montu, Khagi District, Karnak

The third line of hills was low, barely reaching more than five hundred metres from the ground. Many of the jagged rocks were hidden below layers of dust and sand, making progress slow and treacherous for any daring to approach their shallow inclines. Between the two largest peaks was the Pass of Kayne, so named for the Byotai engineer that helped clear it generations before. Now it was a dust-covered roadway big enough to accommodate hundreds of large wheeled vehicles. Though well suited to rapidly moving traffic, it had been cleared in a time where the only expected transport was that of civilian workers and utility vehicles. Now the pass was much more than the route through the range of hills. It was also a place that left the convoy exposed, and both sides in the conflict knew this only too well. Just a single well-placed sniper team could wreak havoc on a group of civilian vehicles, and that was why the Byotai and their mercenaries were taking such great precautions.

Like its sister planets, Karnak was a dry and unfriendly world that had never supported much in the way of life, outside of fauna and the most primitive kinds of land animals. Any significant life forms were brought by the myriad of settlers that had called the world home for short durations in the past. Not a soul in the Byotai Empire would choose to live so far from the protection and luxuries of civilisation without the chance of great reward.

The Tenth Quadrant was well outside the ring of core star systems in the Empire, yet of all the planets in the region, none could offer the mineral riches of those six worlds. These were not the lush green worlds of Hyperion, or the temperate worlds of Kerberos. There was vegetation, but it provided little more than the thin layer of oxygen required for most forms of life. Everything needed to live, from water and food through to clothes and equipment had to be brought in, and at great expense. This was the source of the greatest problem for the Byotai. In the past, Anicinàbe raiders from the border clans took advantage of the convoys of transports, and thousands of unarmed civilians travelling to the border. The clan warriors harassed, killed, or kidnapped many Byotai that strayed too far.

They sometimes launched attacks on mining outposts on the many moons, and even on the surface of the planets. The constant harassment from the Anicinàbe border clans in the end proved too dangerous and expensive to prevent. Though mercenaries were brought in, the area soon became untenable, and the Byotai abandoned all six worlds. That bloody period became known as the Exodus, an event still remembered by the Byotai, especially amongst the worlds close to the border. Now the Byotai were back, and once more the Anicinàbe were the hunters, looking for any signs of weakness amongst the citizen warriors of their reptilian competitors.

The arrival of the Byotai supply convoy was not accompanied by the wheeled machines, but by a pair of small, unarmed drones. They were designed for long-duration surveillance and scanning rather than combat operations. These aircraft, a far cry from the equipment used in the Alliance military, were modified mining scouts used to perform terrain scans. They flew at a height of five thousand metres and tracked ground targets up to a distance of thirty kilometres away. Unlike military units, they were equipped with long, thin wings and ultra quiet electric motors. Without actively searching, there would be no chance of spotting them. At such a height they could move in lazy circles, scanning every rock and depression for hiding places.

Five minutes behind the drones came four stripped down vehicles. These were all relatively small and based upon the electric maintenance vehicles used by the Byotai. They were little more than bulbous wheels, frame bodies, and powerful electric power units. Each was crewed by four Byotai, wearing light cloth over their armour to both disguise their shapes and to keep the dust and elements away from their bodies. Fitted on the rear of each was a single Byotai railgun, a weapon much in common with Alliance coilguns technology. Just seconds behind these advance scouts came the primary column of armoured vehicles.

These were not brightly coloured machines, but built upon the chassis of old, sometimes wrecked civilian models. Karnak was the graveyard for industrial equipment, with thousands of machines from heavy excavators and dirt haulers, through to wheeled shuttles and cargo shifters. The only problem the majority were now little more than broken scraps of metal.

While the Anicinàbe relied upon their large numbers of clansmen and aircraft, the Byotai had turned in a completely different direction. Those that had travelled to Karnak were miners, engineers, and craftsmen, all people with skills and knowledge. In weeks they had fortified their settlements and begun the slow process of converting dead machines into fighting machines. Their paint might be long gone, replaced by either bare metal, or more commonly stains and light corrosion, but they were tough and well constructed. Perfectly suited to the hardy constitution of their occupants.

There were many large vehicles, but the five-part land train stood out most of all. Each part constructed from a bizarre assortment of heavy hauler, transport, and utility vehicles, and then connected via articulated sections and power cables. All of these vehicles were filled to capacity with volunteer soldiers, keen to end the fighting once and for all. Every single warrior was transported aboard one of these vehicles; travel on foot out of the question in this weather. A raised section on the heavily armoured front of the land train provided a command platform for Kras and his commander.

"Spread out and face the winds. The storm is coming, and we've a long way to go to reach the settlements," said Kras, "When the worst has passed, we will move on. The storm will provide cover for us as we clear the last of the Northern Mountains and onwards to the Northlands, and our kin!"

The other Byotai obeyed the order of their Elder without question. The entire group was widely spaced out with nearly a hundred metres between each vehicle. Even with this level of spacing, they kicked up a dust cloud that could be seen for kilometres in every direction. The convoy was heavily armoured, the vehicles filled with both warriors and supplies. The journey to the infamous Stone Teeth hill-range was a long one. It was imperative they made it without interference from the mobile forces of the Spires Clan that had successfully dug in at Montu and the surrounding mountains. Above the armoured formation moved a handful of small, unmanned aerial vehicles, hastily converted by the settlers back in the fortified compounds. The drones were already aboard the ground crawlers when the first of the winds struck the convoy.

All but one drone was recovered before the heavy winds began to kick up dust and debris. One by one the vehicles moved out from the columns and deployed in a line that faced the direction provided by Kras; much like a shoal of fish trying to swim against a current.

"Dig yourselves in and seal down tight."

There were more than twenty of the heavily modified vehicles. They were more in common with a military assault vehicle or transport than of the civilian vehicles they had been changed from. The engineering teams had armoured up the transports with nothing more complex than spaced plating designed to keep impacts as far from the vehicles as possible. They were not up to the job of commercially manufactured military vehicles but were very sturdy and perfectly suited to the unique climate of the border worlds. As soon as the first three vehicles stopped, they were followed by another order. This one echoed throughout the interiors of all the vehicles, blasting out through the speakers hanging on improvised mounts.

"Deploy sand shields and take shelter."

The front of each vehicle was equipped with a large plough arrangement connected via thick pistons to the chassis. They were a common fitment for Byotai industrial vehicles and used for clearing debris, digging out other vehicles, and also to provide protection from the elements. Here on Karnak they were a necessity for everything other than light transports, even on the transports used to move people between settlements.

They all came to a halt and lowered the sand ploughs into place. They locked down firmly, creating a strong barrier against the violent storms commonly experienced on Karnak. Only one of the older crawlers failed to deploy its shield and was forced to move with its device still in the raised position. It tilted to the right and manoeuvred into a new position directly behind the huge land train.

"Get close!" yelled one of the Byotai soldiers.

The crawler groaned and creaked, moving so close the front plates pushed against the back of the train. No sooner had it stopped than a gust of wind blasted the column of vehicles. From inside his own crawler, Wictred could already feel the ground moving. At first he thought it was the dust shifting, like sand dunes often did, but he quickly realised it was the quad-wheeled crawler starting to tip over. The driver had correctly deployed the shield, but a nearby bluff was now deflecting the wind, and it struck the vehicle to the flank. The driver tried to move, but with two wheels in the air, they began to flounder.

"Get to the side!" Wictred hollered, "Hurry!"

The ten Jötnar rose as one and charged to the side of the crawler as it continued to lift. Their combined weight shook the vehicle until finally it sank back down into the soft ground. The dual engines roared, and the driver turned it twenty degrees, presenting a partial diagonal angle to the elements.

"Good, now keep your heads down."

One of the Helion soldiers, a green mercenary in his early twenties, decided to ignore the advice. He looked over the top edge just as a gust of small stones struck him. Luckily for him he was wearing a helmet and faceplate, but the small rocks still knocked him backwards. Blood ran from a number of small cuts to the sides of his face and ears. He landed on his backside and shook his head while laughing. None of the others joined in. Wictred snarled and then looked back to one of the vision slits. It was reduced down to a thin line and protected by an additional layer of transparent plastic.

"This will blow over soon. Make sure you're all ready."

He glanced back at the fallen soldier who was still chuckling to himself.

"Get on your feet, soldier, and listen next time."

He turned back to the slit, while one of the other Jötnar moved to the fallen man. His face was covered by his helmet, but he activated a motor that slid the lower half open. The man could now see the Jötnar warrior's face, and he did not look impressed. Though clearly Human in origin, everything was much bigger in scale. The muscles were oversized and gave them the look of a wild, incredibly strong troll. This particular one reached out and grabbed the soldier, who immediately tried to struggle. That served only to encourage the Jötnar to squeeze tighter.

"Do that in combat, and I'll leave you behind for the Spires to find. They like soft meat. You're lucky we're just hauling supplies to the Teeth."

He was sure he could see some seething aggression on the man's face, and that annoyed him. He moved in even closer, so the mercenary could feel the heat from his face.

"When we get there, you can expect combat, though. The Anicinàbe have been besieging that place for weeks now. It's our job to get supplies and weapons to them."

His voice was menacing and immediately stopped the annoying laughing, much to the pleasure of the rest of the soldiers. The Jötnar warrior took a step back and then heard a noise from the man. He twisted his head to stare at him.

"What did you say, little man?"

However tough the mercenary might have felt, at that particular moment he felt like a rookie. These were no Jötnar militia; they were battle hardened and eager for the fight. The man sat back down and this time remained quiet. Wictred could see what was going on, but intentionally kept out of the dispute. He'd been paid by Kras and his people to provide a small, but elite guard unit to crack the toughest problems, and that was exactly what he intended on doing.

Wictred pulled his head back and hit the button to close up the slot from even the finest of particles. The vehicle was open topped, but the edges sloped down, giving them a little respite. Even so, they were forced to hunker down low to avoid the worst of it. Wictred called out so all could hear, even those off the audio network.

"The drones were spot on. Here it comes, the real storm, and it looks like a monster. Aircraft will be grounded for at least twelve hours, maybe more, just as we expected. It's the break we need to get away from outer reaches of Khagi before the Anicinàbe know we're here. They might control the sky, but on the ground we're masters."

Wictred looked back at his kin and gave them the nod.

"Be ready. The storm will be violent, but it will not last, and time is not on our side."

They bent down so that only the tops of their helms were exposed to the sand, and this time the soldier did the same. These Jötnar were members of the now infamous Blood Pack, a group of experienced Jötnar mercenaries that operated from the Hades colony. Once a region heavily populated by the T'Kari, it was now mainly used as a commercial centre, with ships using its convenient location in the T'Kari System. It was the final stop-off point before a ship made the three thousand light year journey between the alien worlds of the Helion Nexus and the Human colony of Prometheus.

"Wictred," called out one of the Jötnar.

He turned back around and shouted back.

"What?"

"Is it true about the machine you found on the derelict?"

Wictred opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment the first blast of dust struck the vehicle. Small pebbles battered away, creating a loud roar of sound. Wictred moved closer as the others waited patiently inside the transport; the massive dust storm reached its peak. Vast clouds swept over the mountains near Montu and then down to the open lands. It was here they struck the convoy, as well as any exposed rock, piece of metal, and flesh. Nature took no sides as it pounded the ground with impartial and uncaring power. It was as though the elements themselves wanted to flatten every part of the planet.

As the dust increased in density, so the visibility decreased until it was impossible to see more than a metre outside of the vision slits. One by one, the occupants sealed their vehicles shut and then waited.

"Hold on," said Wictred.

He then moved slowly to his comrade, the newest member of the pack, and the only one not present back on their last three operations. Finally, they were alongside each other, and already the storm sounded as if it was reducing in intensity.

"What did you say?" Wictred asked.

"The derelict. Was it really a machine from the old age of the Trusskan civilisation?"

Wictred slumped down to the metal flooring and watched as small stones whipped overhead. He was sure that if a man remained on his feet, and without protection, the storm would pick him clean to the bones in a few minutes. The new Jötnar warrior was known as Skarn and had recently left the Alliance military after a disciplinary hearing. Wictred hadn't seen the result but suspected it had something to do with the death of an officer during an operation on Kerberos. A squad of Jötnar had been ambushed, with at least four killed. Rumour had it that some of the remaining Jötnar turned on their commander.

"Tell me about Kerberos first?"

Skarn physically flinched at the mention of Kerberos, and it looked like he might actually rebuff Wictred's question. Another wild gust shook the vehicle, and for whatever personal reason, the ex-marine began to speak.

"It was supposed to be a recon on Kerberos. A small cult in the capital, they'd taken a tower and were holding hostages. Command said to stay back and wait for drones, but Lieutenant Coulson ignored orders and ordered an assault."

Wictred shook his head. He was well aware of the propensity to initiate action, but all of them with at least the experience of a few operations knew that was a mistake. To conduct an operation with no or limited intel was a recipe for disaster.

"What happened?"

"We were waiting underground, using the sewage system to get close. We'd reached the access hatches and waiting for intel, when reports of another team landing on the roof came in. We were ordered to wait in reserve while a full assessment was made."

Wictred nodded slowly.

"And that was when Coulson ordered you to go in?"

"He ordered a full-scale breach, with no active intelligence on the ground. As soon as we blew the door, they knew we were inside. I was first, and five more of our brothers followed. We took two floor before we ran into them."

He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. As he let out the air, he continued.

"The cult had charges rigged along the stairwells and basement. Three of us were killed at the start. Then they came down with thermal weapons and grenades. I gave the order to fall back, but Coulson came in and told us to continue. Ten minutes later, it was just one and Kanine left. It was her first combat since leaving Hyperion, and she was tough, I mean Osk tough."

Wictred smiled at the mention of Osk.

"By then we'd killed seven cult members and were pushing in hard. I tried to slow us down. The top floor breaching team were now inside, forced to attack because of us. Coulson told us to assault the next floor even though we could hear them positioning heavy weapons. I held back Kanine, so Coulson threatened us with summary execution. He tried it twice; the third time was when I put a bullet in his brain."

Wictred hit the back of his head on the side of the crawler.

"Damn, I heard something bad had happened down there. So what happened to Kanine?"

The Jötnar snarled as he answered.

"She quit and said she'd meet me on Hades to join one of the new mercenary outfits. I never saw her again."

The two sat in silence for a moment, just like the rest of the squad. The men and women in the vehicle looked up at them with that common mixture of awe and dread only the synthetic Jötnar could inspire. Skarn leaned over and spoke to Wictred.

"So, about this derelict. You arrived after Spartan and Khan had already beaten the machine. Is that true?"

Wictred laughed.

"It would have been, if the two of them had done their job properly."

Both of them laughed and continued to exchange stories, the majority focused on the many battles they had been involved in, all while the last of the storm battered the convoy. The other members of the Blood Pack sat in silence, listening to the voices of their kin. Sharing stories of their past adventures was something they all enjoyed, even in the moments before a battle.

Far behind the dust-covered line of crawlers and vehicles were the lowest peaks of the Khagi Mountains, and behind those the tallest mountains on the planet. They were days away from the dangers of Montu, yet the change in territory as they neared the Great Sea was slow and subtle. The land was flatter and offered none of the protection from the movements from dust along the rolling plains and dunes. The Spires Clan was far away, safe behind the craggy cliffs and tall peaks. This natural protection offered by the walls of mountains was what made the region so important. It was hardly surprising the greatest and best-defended city lay between those peaks. It was the largest inhabited part of Karnak and the easiest to defend, even when in its partially ruined state. There was little information on what happened in the first week of conflict, other than the Anicinàbe settlers already inside the city had turned on their Byotai comrades. In the middle of the fighting came reinforcements, dozens of clan shuttles and ships bringing in warriors. Now it was the heart of Anicinàbe control of Karnak, and as the weeks went by had become an increasingly impregnable fortress.

Location was one of the reasons for the city’s power and control over the planet. The protection of the mountains, and the unusually large basin inside which the city was built, made it perfect for landing ships. The first mines were also dug here before the emphasis shifted to the richer sources of ore in the Southern Depression, ore known as providing the best metal alloys known to exist. Lightweight and incredibly tough, it could provide the basis of personal and ship based armour that knew no equal.

Any normal city would be torn apart by the fighting and abrasion from parts of the storms that made it past the mountains, but not Montu. The thick stone and carefully placed structures made it almost impervious to the dust able to pick a body clean in a matter of hours. The Byotai had invested much hard labour on the site, and this was no frivolous venture. Any soul unfortunate to be caught out could expect to be injured, perhaps even killed. Karnak was the worst of the six worlds in the Quadrant to live on, but it was also the richest, with mineral wealth beyond any other known planet. It was an unforgiving place, and not even the advanced technology of the Byotai could change that.

As Wictred sat there, he looked to his comrades. There were thirty of them inside this crawler, yet he and his ten Blood Pack took up most of the space. Apart from being twice the size of a Byotai, they were also covered from head to toe in dull, iron coloured armour. He thought back to the events on the alien ship as the storm petered out over the convoy. Kras rose to his feet and lifted his head up to sniff the air from his position in the lead section of the improvised land train. Translators fitted to the helmets of all present, converted the words after a short, but irritating delay.

"General Makos has just contacted homeworld with news that has hit the enemy like a shockwave, and the news is spreading fast."

Wictred looked to the others inside the vehicle and focussed on Skarn who looked confused.

"General Makos? I thought he was trying to stop the clans from reinforcing their positions here, and on the other worlds. What's happened?"

Wictred shrugged and then looked back to hear the words of Kras.

"General Makos had his chance, and just like I knew he would, he has found the enemy and brought them to battle."

Skarn exhaled slowly and was quite clearly impressed by what he was hearing.

"Makos crushed the Anicinàbe animals in space, in a battle that will be remembered for generations to come as the Liberation of Medamud."

Wictred knew first hand that Kras was far from a fan of General Makos, the military hero saved Karnak from total defeat. Kras never forgot to remind his own people it was through their blood and toil that the ground battles were won.

He's changed...why? What's in it for Kras?

"Outnumbered and outgunned, General Makos took the best the Anicinàbe had and forced them into battle that quickly became a bloodbath. The Anicinàbe are running like the whipped animals we know them to be, and the General is chasing them from the Quadrant."

His personal guard of aged Byotai lifted their weapons and called out in support. It was noisy and filled with bravado. They were all veterans of the bitter skirmishes of the last months, but none of them were regular soldiers. They bore armour modified and remanufactured from equipment taken from killed Anicinàbe, as well as homemade gear based on the mining equipment of the Byotai. Only a few actually wore tailor-made equipment shipped from home.

Kras groaned a little as his aching muscles moved his heavy torso upright. He was General Kras, the Elder of Caldos. The renegade commander Makos had given him orders to dig in. But after all this time he'd had enough, and news of the victory at Medamud spurred him on. He looked back at his bodyguard of Byotai, and then out to the long line of vehicles. The crews were already brushing away the dust and preparing to move out. He lifted himself up high so they could see him and called out over the external speakers.

"The war for the Tenth Quadrant has been transformed after one battle."

He reached out to the remnants of the dust clouds.

"This storm marks the turn of the tide for our people. Today everything has changed, and now it is time, my brothers and sisters, time to turn back and breach the defences of Montu once and for all. We must take back the city."

He opened his mouth, letting in the dry air into his lungs.

"News will already be spreading through the Anicinàbe camps, and they will be scared. Some will flee, and those that remain will attempt to dig in, based on the vain hope that help will one day come. We must move now, before they consolidate their position in the occupation of our land."

He lifted up his hand high above his head until the plates on his shoulders prevented them from moving any higher.

"General Makos cannot do this. He and his forces are busy cleansing the stars of their ships. No, it is our turn to show that we can do the same here. This is our time, and though we might be outnumbered, we have courage, skill, and right on our side. The Anicinàbe will have already heard about their defeat, and nothing breeds fear like the smell of defeat. We must take advantage of their weakness. I promise you, the Anicinàbe will not stand. One hard push and the whole thing will collapse."

Shouting roared out from the vehicles as Byotai and mercenary alike called out their support. The sound continued at a reduced volume as the convoy began moving again, making its slow, inexorable progress towards the capital city.

"We will hit them hard, and Montu will fall. I promise you, Montu will be ours once more!"

Wictred listened to the words of Kras before looking to his comrades.

"Is he insane? The defenders at the Stone Teeth need our help. The Anicinàbe rule Montu, and they've made it a fortress. You saw the drone footage; the place is a lost cause until we can mobilise some serious numbers. Kras lost the Khagi Mountains and Montu months ago. He just doesn't know it yet. He had a chance, right then when they were weak, and he refused. Now it's too late."

"I agree," said one of the shorter Jötnar, "We will need ten times this number to have any chance, and if we fail, it will be more than just the loss of Montu. They will use that victory to run amok on this planet, and the Byotai will be unable to stop them."

Wictred nodded in firm agreement.

"Our friends in the North have held off repeated attacks by the Red Scars, but now the enemy has been heavily reinforced. When the Zuni and Kolchan clans attack, they will overwhelm the Byotai with the combined wrath of three clans at their walls. Karnak will be all but lost, all for the glory of one Byotai. They are tough, and they fight well, but they are not warriors. Less than one in a hundred at the Teeth has any military training."

He upper lip quivered.

"If Kras attacks, he'll get every one of his people killed. It will be a slaughter. Karnak will go, then the Quadrant, and what then? You've seen the Anicinàbe. They look for weakness and strike when the time is right."

He pulled himself up taller so he could look back at the armoured vehicles.

"If the Anicinàbe sense any sign of weakness or lack of resolve, they will burst out from this domain and into our own. The Byotai Empire could be next, and then any colony or empire that will not stand up to them. They have greater numbers than the rest of our neighbours combined."

Skarn shrugged.

"You place a heavy burden on our shoulders, my brother. We are one unit, nothing more."

"True," agreed Wictred, "But we can change one part of a battle, and if it is the right part, it can be enough to win a war, even with what little we have."

Skarn still didn't looked particular impressed, and one of his more experienced kin said what the others were all thinking.

"It would be good to have Gun and the others at our backs. The Alliance should stop talking and start doing. The Byotai are our allies, and they need help, real military help."

Skarn snorted.

"Yeah, they'll help when they know this is a done deal and a guaranteed win. They don't want a war with the Anicinàbe, and joining the Byotai to fight them would send a signal to the clans."

He smiled as he looked to Wictred.

"So...until that day comes, we'll have to work even harder, won't we? Kras won't change his mind just because we say so. You know what he's like. He will hit Montu, even if we're outnumbered and outgunned. He won't want Makos getting all the glory."

He lifted a flat looking hacking blade, its edge pitted and serrated. The weapon was designed just as much to intimidate, as it was to cause damage. The Anicinàbe were well equipped for the hit and run warfare they seemed to excel at; the Jötnar made close to medium range assaults their speciality. If just one of them could get close enough to use weapons like these, then the battle would already be over.

"In any case, it's not like we've got anything else to do out here, is it? We were paid to come here with guns, blades, and armour. We can do our job just fine, with five of us or a hundred."

With that, he swung down the blade and embedded its keen edge into the crude metal flooring of the crawler. Wictred shook his head and sighed.

Maybe. But getting you all killed is not my idea of a smart mission. I won't throw you away like cattle.

He rose from the rear of the vehicle to find the occupants of every single one of the other machines doing the same. All of them, male, female, old or young alike wanted nothing less than to attack Montu, even in their weakened state. Wictred turned to his left and found Skarn at his side.

"Wictred, you're not going to persuade them. Just look at them. They will attack Montu even if they know they will lose. They do not care what happens to them."

Wictred rubbed at his armoured helm.

"Perhaps they don't, but I do. My life and all of yours is worth much more than a Byotai Elder's honour."

One of the other Jötnar lifted himself up tall. He carried a custom made triple-barrel weapon that had all the hallmarks of a Hyperion made weapon. It was short and the barrels surprisingly wide.

"So, what's the plan? We will fight with you wherever you send us. How can we turn this into a victory when Kras and the others will not listen?"

Wictred looked ahead and towards the mountains, the very location they had been trying to avoid.

"My brother, if they will not listen, then we will have to make sure we don't fail. Have you ever found an enemy position that a unit of battle-ready Jötnar could not breach?"

He once again looked out to the mountains.

"The Anicinàbe will find out we're here soon enough. We will be engaged in battle without ever seeing the walls of the city."

He wanted nothing more than to see his kin storming the walls but deep down knew that would never happen. Even as he watched the long line of vehicles, he had the feeling something terrible was going to happen. He placed his hand on the side of the crawler and lifted himself to the side. Skarn grabbed for him.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Wictred looked back, his face taught and grim.

"I'm going to have a word with our illustrious leader. Either he listens, or we're out of here."

With those words, he was gone, and Skarn looked back to see the other Jötnar looking equally stunned. Never before had he heard one of his kin suggesting they might shy from battle, yet for all his desire for combat, not even Skarn could see the benefits of death in this place.

CHAPTER FIVE

The man who returned to Karnak in 373CC was a changed man in every way. Though a decade has passed since the Biomech War, he was more experienced and reliable than ever. Every single mission handed to him was completed successfully, even if the cost was sometimes higher than any had expected. The operation in T'Karan had proven that, and the reputation of both Spartan and the IAB boosted immeasurably by their survival and defeat of the ancient Trusskan Guardian. Spartan was now faster, stronger, and more capable than he'd been at half his age. With his family gone, all that remained were his Jötnar and Biomech comrades, and the few military personnel to have survived the war. He had few friends outside of this group, and many still blamed him for the mass casualties at the Battle of the Rift. One thing was certain; Spartan would undertake missions others would shy from, and he would succeed. This led some to speculate his current success can be partially attributed to the fatalistic attitude so prevalent among the synthetic Jötnar, an attitude Spartan may have inherited.

The Rise of Spartan

100 Kms North of Montu, Khagi District, Karnak

The dust cloud broke against the mountains and left clear open sky for more than thirty kilometres in every direction. The peaks of the mountains were still shrouded, but down here it was easy to see the scattered column of vehicles. The land train was at the centre, and crawlers scattered about in front and behind. Out at the front of the column was a slow moving crawler, and atop it was Wictred. His vehicle was just a hundred metres from the remains of the scout crawler now on its side with black smoke bellowing from its burnt out carcass.

"This is a disaster," grumbled Skarn, "We should have scouts far out, not pulled back to surround the old fool."

Wictred turned back from his position at the edge of the vehicle and looked at the rest of the armoured column. Kras had sent them forward after a violent argument with Wictred. It was not because he had any degree of respect for their ability to scout, he simply wanted them out of his way.

"I know. It's exactly as I told Kras it would happen. An assault in these mountains is doomed to fail without proper recon and air cover."

He considered their options but only for a brief moment. There were dust and smoke trails in different parts of the sky, but nothing obvious that would betray the shape of enemy vehicles or ground troops. He smelt the air, and then spun about as though he could detect the scent of the enemy.

"Hornets."

He grabbed the communicator fitted on the vehicle.

"Kras, this is Wictred. They are coming. I repeat; they are coming. Form the laager now, and prepare to repel an assault!"

The engine howled as the crawler turned to the right and began the slow backwards trip to the column. They could have turned around and covered more ground, but Wictred continued shouting orders and ensuring they kept their front towards the gentle upwards slope.

"Ready!" Skarn barked.

The Jötnar moved to the front of the open-topped vehicle and placed their weapons on the edge. They wore their plain metal armour like a well-worn suit, and in their hands carried customised weapons unique to the Blood Pack. Wictred moved to the middle of the unit and placed his own double-barrelled rifle, one of the weapons growing in popularity amongst the Pack. This was based on the previous standard-issue weapon of the Marine Corps, but included the innards of two complete weapons fitted inside a skeleton carbine stock and fed by a single box magazine, containing fifty rounds of 12.7mm tip hardened explosive slugs. The guns were short-ranged, very powerful, and far from subtle. Wictred had nicknamed them Thumpers, a name that had stuck.

"Keep your eyes open," said Wictred.

He called down to the Byotai driver.

"Get the sand blade in position and prepare for..."

"Incoming!" Skarn yelled.

At the top of the gradient in front of them came a dozen dark shapes. It was hard to identify them at this distance. They were moving fast and splitting up to make it harder to track them. More came behind them, boosting their numbers past twenty.

"Wait," Wictred ordered.

The Jötnar obeyed, not one of them firing until the order was given. As they waited, they took careful aim, and those with shorter-ranged weapons checked their equipment for the hundredth time. Then came the tell-tale muzzle flashes from their weapons, quickly marking them out as enemies. At the same time, another group appeared in the rocks to the right. Their rifles punched holes inside the plating of the crawler, and the volume of fire made a sound like rain on the metal plating.

"Drop 'em!"

The Jötnar split their fire between the two groups and shredded anything that came too close. The enemy ground forces had made it nearly halfway to the convoy by the time the defensive fire began, and it made short work of them. A small group of Human soldiers began shouting excitedly to the left. Wictred moved from his position and looked in the direction of interest. There was a single hillock to the left and a large number of light vehicles streaming out from each side. They were little different to the scout vehicles used by the Byotai.

"Keep firing," said Wictred.

The mixture of Humans and Jötnar added their fire to that of the rest of the convoy. The land train put out a terrifying level of projectiles, though not as accurate as Wictred would have liked. The enemy vehicles kept their distance and circled the convoy, using the low hills and rocks to break up their formation as they moved about erratically.

"That one," said Skarn.

The Jötnar took aim and blasted at a three-wheeled vehicle, and four other Jötnar joined in. The double-barrelled firearms tore chunks off its armour before it flipped over, landing on its side.

"I don't get it," said Olas.

As one of the more experienced warriors, he tended to say little unless it was important. Like many of the old warriors, he bore the scars of countless previous battles. The most prominent injury was his left arm, where it had been restored from the elbow down with a fully artificial replacement. He blasted another vehicle and then turned to Wictred.

"They are just harassing us. Something else is coming."

One of the Jötnar lifted his two-handed club and moved to the edge, ready to leap down. Olas grabbed him with his right arm.

"No, stay inside. They are trying to draw us out."

Wictred nodded in agreement.

"We do not leave the convoy unless we..."

"Aircraft!" shouted one of the mercenary Humans.

The man took aim and blasted the sky even though he could see nothing, just hearing the sound of engines. Without air cover or adequate scouting, they had little chance of detecting the lead aircraft. Wictred activated his communications unit and was answered by an angry sounding Kras.

"Wictred. Take your guard and fight. This is not the time for talk. It is time for action!"

Wictred ignored his whining and pointed off to the sky.

"Kras. We're surrounded, and the enemy have incoming aircraft. Activate the missiles and dig in."

An angry voice answered him, and then he found himself disconnected before he could say anymore. Skarn saw his expression and laughed.

"You've pissed him off now."

Wictred lowered his weapon and ignored the sounds of incoming fire to look to the skyline. The scanning equipment was only fitted to the larger vehicles, so he was forced to use his eyes and the modest passive sensors fitted to his armour.

"Yeah, Kras is proving to be a major liability."

Three of them were now watching the skies, but Wictred spotted the aircraft first. His keen eyes saw the dots as they passed the one kilometre mark, and a full second later his sensor suite detected their heavily masked shapes.

Aircraft, this is not good. Kras has led us into a trap.

They were coming in low and fast; leaving a dust cloud that chased them almost as quickly. The pilots brought them in below a hundred metres, a distance requiring a combination of extreme skill and computer assistance. Horns blasted out through the convoy, giving the impression of a caravan travelling the deserts of ancient Earth.

"It's a trap! Keep your heads down," said Wictred.

The Jötnar moved as one just as the front pair of aircraft opened fire with cannons. Some of the other mercenaries did the same and were rewarded with their lives for a little longer. The small calibre weapons bounced off the layered armour of the crawlers, but easily penetrated the upper bodies of the three Human mercenaries that chose to stand upright and ignore Wictred. One was decapitated, and his mutilated form dropped down next to Skarn.

"So, now he listens."

Three of the Jötnar chuckled at his morbid humour while the clatter of gunfire continued. The entire convoy was now awash with the sound of guns from the passengers opening up with everything they had. The speed of the Hornets made it all but impossible to hit them without tracking systems or missiles.

"They hit us with ground forces to pin us down," said Wictred.

He then lifted his eyes to look up at the smoke trails from the Hornets.

"And now the aircraft will finish the job. We should have sent scouts ahead and positioned sentries on the high ground."

Skarn nodded grimly.

"We all know, Wictred. You told Kras time and time again. Now he will get us all killed."

The four Hornets rushed over the convoy just as the first volley of missiles rose up to meet them. The Jötnar opened fire at the lead aircraft, but not even they were able to hit the craft as it jinked from side to side.

 The pilots were clearly highly experienced and very familiar with the weapon systems used by the Byotai. Seven missiles reached up from the vehicles. Four were quickly lost as they struck the small hills and mounds of rock. The final three disappeared from view, all of them in pursuit of a single Hornet. A Byotai yelled from the last segment of the land train just as a laser-guided bomb came down and hit the thin armour from above. The Byotai soldier was thrown clear as the entire segment of the land train exploded.

"Everybody out, now!" Wictred shouted.

He hadn't seen what had released the bomb, but he was certain there was something else out there other than just the Hornets.

"Move it!"

Wictred was first out, leaping from the top of the crawler and hitting the dusty ground. Skarn was next, and then came the rest of the unit. Small numbers of Byotai dashed about in the open, but most had elected to remain inside their up-armoured civilian vehicles. Wictred activated his personal communications on the command network. He changed it to the public channel so that all ranks would hear him.

"This is Wictred. Disperse now. This is an ambush, and we have been targeted for bombing."

A trio of delta-shaped aircraft flew overhead. They were much larger than the Hornets and moving in a slow circle around convoy. Small hatches opened up, and a bewildering array of guns and rocket systems activated from two of them. The third displayed a cavernous bomb bay and was already releasing dozens of small, guided weapons.

Wictred ran twenty metres and threw himself behind the long line of jagged rocks that provided a degree of protection. Then came the first volley, and the damage to the convoy was devastating. Skarn slid alongside him, and the others scattered, finding cover in the rocks where they could.

"The fools. This is not the way I planned on dying."

Wictred nodded quickly and then checked his weapons.

"I can't argue with you there, brother."

The bombs struck the convoy over a period of little more than three seconds, ripping apart their targets with ease. The screams of the dying followed the booms of the bombs and the clatter of gunfire. Skarn peeked around his rock and watched multiple scout vehicles racing around the burning convoy, shooting at any individuals they found. He then attached a new magazine to his weapon and took a step out of cover.

"No, not yet," said Wictred, "Look."

Above them were two Hornets, but they were no longer swooping about. The missile systems in the convoy had been eliminated in mere seconds, and now they hovered about, looking near the burning crawler so recently vacated by the Jötnar.

Off to the right one of the aircraft was so low so it was barely fifty metres from the ground. Lines launched out from the flanks and were released by powerful harpoon lines. Some hit the soft dirt and buried deep underground; others struck rock and embedded their hardened tips into the surface.

"Incredible," said Wictred.

His admiration was not just for the technology, but also for the incredible skill demonstrated by the Anicinàbe. He had seen them perform feats of speed and skill before on many occasions, but never such as this. Down they came, in pairs and at high speed. They were the armoured shapes of Anicinàbe shock troops, attired in flexible, layered body armour and long flowing cloaks flapping over their shoulders.

Scores of them came down, like ants following a trail, until they hit the ground. No sooner were their feet on the ground and they were back up and running into battle. They moved in small groups, and with much greater expertise and efficiency than the average clan warrior. The majority worked their way through the burning column until they'd surrounded the last two undamaged parts of the land train. Sporadic fire rippled along its body as the remaining Byotai tried to beat them off.

"Now!"

Wictred and Skarn were out from cover first, and then came the rest of the Jötnar. A pitiful number of Human and Byotai survivors joined in the counterattack, but the Jötnar did the real work. They stormed ahead, covering ground quickly and blazing away with their Thumpers. Nine Anicinàbe were cut down before they even knew they were being hit.

"Don't stop. Get close and put steel down their throats!"

The one hundred and fifty metres seemed like a kilometre, but the Jötnar were no fools. Once they reached to within fifty metres they stopped and unleashed their entire arsenal, cutting down clan warriors in all directions. Wictred ran through two boxes of ammunition and sustained six rounds to the torso before running out of ammunition. Three Jötnar were already dead, and more Anicinàbe were coming in from the South to block them off.

"Charge!"

The remaining Jötnar broke from their loose line and crashed into the Anicinàbe. Unlike the lithe, lightweight warriors, the Jötnar were monsters. Their weight alone was enough to kill a clan warrior, but coupled with blades, double-handed clubs, and multi-barrelled thermal shotguns it was a bloodbath. No more fell as they reached the outer frame of the land train. Byotai leaned out from the top and fired down into the battle, doing what little they could to help.

"Help me up!" Skarn shouted.

One of the Jötnar moved to the side and bent down. Skarn ran at him, jumped up, using the body of his comrade to boost himself up onto the front of the land train. He landed to find Kras and three of his guards in battle with seven Anicinàbe shock troops.

"Follow Skarn!" called out another.

Three more of them clambered up. Meanwhile Wictred and the other survivors formed a shield of flesh and metal around the base of the vehicle.

"Nothing gets through," Wictred said through clenched teeth.

The Anicinàbe shock troops still refused to give up and more continued to drop down from the many aircraft overhead. The two larger craft had moved away, but the Hornets kept coming in and dropping off what looked like Red Scars clan warriors. Six Anicinàbe came running for him, and Wictred braced himself, taking the gunfire and then swinging his Thumper like a metal bar. Each strike knocked down or killed one.

"Close ranks."

In the midst of the battle, Wictred hadn't noticed the Red Scars were not running at him out of a desire for combat, but they were being forced to attack. As he cleared a path through his attackers, he found himself staring at a line of at least thirty shock troops, and behind them hovered one of the aircraft. Its missile and gun systems were deployed and pointed directly ahead. Wictred looked at the front of the land train where Skarn and the others were embroiled in battle with their assailants.

"Get off the train!"

His words fell on deaf ears just as the massive aircraft unleashed its entire arsenal. Wictred pushed away and covered five metres towards the shock troops, as the rapid-fire guns cut down friend and foe alike. A single Red Scars warrior got in his way and paid for it with his head. Then the missiles struck, one after the other, and a mighty crescendo built up to a thunderclap, exploding the remaining parts of the land train. It sent the survivors flying off in all directions.

As the smoke cleared, the aircraft landed and down its ramp came a single Anicinàbe leader, clad in armour and his body obscured by a dark robe. He waited at the end and called out a single order in his native tongue. More shock troopers ran down the ramp and spread out among the wounded.

* * *

Kha’Dri World Ship, Taxxu Prime, Centauri Alliance

The Skyway was one of the oldest parts of the World Ship, and according to On'Sarax, a place reserved for the Biomech leadership caste. Back then the mighty machines would use it to look over their fleets and worlds, with nothing but transparent material separating them from the elements. In more recent times IAB technicians had fully restored the Skyway to its former glory. It was no easy task, especially as sections of it sustained heavy damage during the fighting at the Black Rift. Now the entire long ring was open and available for use by senior members of the IAB. One press team had been granted access, and the footage of the conquered domain of the Biomechs, specifically the dead world of Taxxu, had been a major boon for the Alliance. The Skyway ran along the outer skin of the World Ship and provided stunning views of the Taxxu system, as well as giving a place of solitude from the shipbuilding and training that seemed to fill every cubic metre of the ship.

"Once, a very long time ago, the machines would have walked this path," said Olik.

"Yeah," agreed Khan, "and now we do. What's your point?"

Olik shook his head.

"My point, is that they thought they were Gods, and look what happened to them. They may have created machines and technology far in advance of us, but we still crushed them. Their machines have been scrapped, their warriors defeated, and ships now rotting in a hundred shipyards."

Khan pushed his fists together.

"I know. We were all there when it happened, Olik."

Olik muttered, and Spartan did his best not to laugh. Khan was being intentionally obtuse, and like it or not, Spartan found that concept amusing. Olik was trying to have a moment of reflection, and Khan, as usual, was having none of it. He was so much closer in attitude to that of Gun, than the more youthful behaving Olik. Spartan and Kanjana looked like children as they walked just ahead of Khan and Olik. They covered ground quickly but found the space deserted, and only a handful of IAB marines guarding the entry points to the Skyway.

"Spartan, will they come with us?" Kanjana asked.

Spartan nodded quickly.

"Of course, but it might need a little explanation. This is a first for us."

Kanjana laughed.

"You can say that again. This is not what we signed up for."

"When has that ever made a difference?" Khan said.

The Jötnar's voice was low and grave, and layer upon layer of contempt for the orders he'd been given over years of combat. Jötnar were frequently used as line breakers and had been sent to their deaths more times than he could ever remember.

"They will send us wherever they choose. Our decision is simply what do we do when we get there."

Spartan looked back at Khan, slightly surprised at what his friend had to say. They had both experienced hard times in the past, but Spartan hadn't realised Khan felt quite that badly about some of the orders they'd been given.

"Khan, are you good with this?"

The Jötnar beamed back at him.

"Combat on Karnak, hell, it will be a cakewalk compared to the last war."

Spartan wasn't sure if Khan was being sarcastic, but they were now finally approaching one of the large dome-like structures placed at regular intervals around the Skyway. These were positioned at distances of one hundred metres apart and looked like studs from the exterior of the ship.

"Spartan!" It was a familiar voice.

Waiting in the dome was one other Jötnar and three Humans. All of them wore their combat armour but with their faceplates open and clear. Spartan moved ahead more quickly and towards the two sisters. He stopped and grasped Syala's arm, using all of his self control to go no further. The others caught up and waited before Gun cleared his voice.

"Good, this is the best place to talk. Today we will make history."

Arana looked to the great warrior, and then lifted one eyebrow.

"Such secrecy, and from your own people. Gun, you surprise me. What enemies do any of us have out here, anymore? The Biomechs are no more, are they not?"

Gun chuckled. He had been waiting with the sisters until the others arrived, and though they'd exchanged pleasantries; he'd avoided saying anything of the operation he had planned.

"You do not understand, Arana of the Black Widows?"

The name of the mercenary unit was rarely used and immediately made Arana suspicious. Gun could see her discomfort and assumed she did not like the idea of this secretive meeting.

"Brigadier Black recently explained to me about the idea of plausible deniability."

Already he could see the expression on Arana's face changing.

"Ah, I see. So you have heard of this expression?"

Syala pushed past her sister to get a better look at Gun's muscular face.

"Yeah," muttered Syala, "We know the term, don't we, sister?"

Arana nodded her head slowly.

"Oh, yes. Plausible deniability means we get to do dirty work, while the people paying pretend it never happened."

Syala had much more to say.

"And if it goes wrong, we get left in the lurch, and without backup of any kind. So yeah, we're vaguely familiar with what you're talking about."

Arana looked less than impressed with what Gun had to say so far.

"Or another way of saying this is that you're putting together a black bag operation for the Alliance, but not officially. Am I about right?"

Gun chuckled again and looked to Spartan as though he was waiting for a signal. There was no obvious sign between them, but he acted as if Spartan had given his clearance to continue.

"True, and we want the two of you to join our command team. The other units are useful, but you and your Widows are not cannon fodder. You have a much more important job, if you're up to it?"

Syala looked to Spartan who gave her a knowing look.

"Command team sounds good. More pay, presumably?"

Khan laughed in the background, and Olik struck him in the flank. Gun sighed and then carried on speaking.

"As you both know by now, we have a defensive agreement with the Byotai, but no authority for the Alliance to act in the Tenth Quadrant. We can help deliver aid and supplies, but nothing more. Both sides claim the region, and if we declare for one or the other, it could be the trigger for a full-scale regional war. We don't want that, and neither do the Byotai. There's a lot of rebuilding to do since the war, and nobody is ready for a fight."

Kanjana had been silent until now, but as an Anicinàbe, she was more than familiar with the politics and infighting currently spreading through the region.

"There has always been a feeling among my people that the cold-bloods are living on borrowed time. They breed slowly, but live long and uninteresting lives. In the time our people have been in contact, the Byotai population has changed little, ours has doubled and is growing."

"That much hate, it makes little sense," said Olik.

Khan struck him between the shoulder blades.

"They compete for territory and resources. It is inevitable they will come into contact with each other. Either they intermingle and share, or they will fight."

Kanjana gave a polite laugh.

"In the past you would be correct. There was some interbreeding, back when half-bloods settled the border worlds. These were mixed Byotai and Helion peoples, but they were never fully trusted by the clans; another reason why so many of them moved to the border worlds. Half-bloods have little place in our society now, and my people are looking for a reason to go to war."

Gun seemed especially pleased at her last words.

"And that is why we are assembling a team of advisors to send to Karnak, at the request of General Makos."

Arana cleared her throat to interrupt Gun.

"Advisors? We brought a little more than a few advisors with us."

Spartan lifted his hand to take over, and Gun gave him the nod.

"We've put together mercenaries from all the major races, including our own, to assist the Byotai. But they need more."

He pointed out of the transparent sphere and to the blackness of space.

"See those transports?"

Both of the female mercenaries nodded.

"We've got over a thousand mercenaries, including large numbers of our own people and Jötnar. It's a strong force, but nothing compared to what we have inside those ships."

"Thegns?" Arana asked.

Gun almost choked at her answer.

"Thegns on Karnak would turn both sides against us. No, we cannot use Thegns or IAB regular units. We have something more appropriate to the region."

Spartan nodded in agreement.

"Five thousand Anicinàbe and Byotai Exiles from the Tenth Quadrant, with nearly half of them being half-bloods."

Kanjana seemed positively stunned at that news.

"This cannot be. The Red Scars cleansed the border worlds of half-bloods a generation ago. They have long been considered outsiders to the clans. They are a people despised by both the Anicinàbe and the Byotai."

Gun shook his head.

"That's not what we've been told. Contacts with the Byotai say the half-bloods are considered no different to any other Byotai."

Kanjana laughed at his words.

"Gun, you are a fool."

The rest of the group looked at her in stunned silence. As Spartan's right-hand in Taxxu, she was often given substantial leeway, but directly insulting Gun was a first.

"The half-bloods have been pushing for equal rights with the pure-bloods for generations now. Why do you think so many moved to the border in the first place?"

Kanjana turned to face Spartan, and he could see she seemed aggrieved.

"They have no love for either side, just a desire to be left alone."

At that point she looked back to Gun.

"Their loyalty can be bought by whoever offers them what they desire."

Gun sighed as she finished.

"Perhaps you are right, Kanjana. But that is not the assessment of High Command, or of the trade delegation that negotiated with them. According to Mr Walker, they are keen to fight, even if only a few are warriors. The majority are civilians, and all want to return to their homes in the Tenth Quadrant. Many were displaced when the thirteen clans tore through the border colonies. The rest are the survivors of the earlier fighting you describe."

Spartan listened carefully as Gun finished. He made a point of looking to Kanjana as he spoke and was still surprised to see the pained look on her face at the mention of the surviving half-bloods.

"We're getting a lot of contradictory information. The only upside is that any military assets coming our way can be used to hit Nakoma and her allies on Karnak. Let's leave the business and politics to those who enjoy it."

Gun grunted loudly in agreement, as did Olik and Khan. Spartan's lip trembled just a little as he continued. He might be saying the words, but Kanjana had unnerved him. He had a history with CTC, or more specifically, Teresa had while he'd been a prisoner of the Biomechs. Neither shared any love for them, but more recently he'd had no reason to doubt their sincerity.

"This had to be kept secret, especially as we are effectively harbouring political refugees from the Anicinàbe Council. If they knew we were here, well, it could cause a major diplomatic problem."

Gun muttered at the word ‘diplomatic’.

"As usual, Spartan, you're the master of the understatement."

Arana and Syala looked to each other in stunned silence. They had never even heard of half-breeds before, and certainly nothing of these thousands of displaced civilians looking to fight. The secrecy of the project had clearly been successful, and that in itself something of a miracle.

"Not what you were expecting?" Khan asked.

Olik looked at the ships and seemed especially proud.

"They've been training for over a month now, out here in Taxxu. We've used funds from Byotai donors to appropriate weapons and equipment from the Helion and Biomech war stocks, and they are ready to return to the Quadrant."

He shook his head in surprise.

"Hell, I've never seen a group as motivated as this one. They have an anger and a hunger for the fight that is something else."

"And what about sourcing the weapons? We can't send them in with guns bought from the Helions. It will look like we or they sent them to do our dirty work."

"Indeed," Olik added, "That is why they have been armed from weapons taken from the surface of Helios Prime. The markings and stamps all originated from one sector of the battlefield."

"Plausible deniability," Spartan repeated in hushed tones, "They are clean enough for this job."

The sisters shared a looked of confusion, mixed with continuing surprise.

"And quite how does that affect us? I understood we were being paid to bring a full combat unit to the fight. Is that still the brief, or has this changed into something else?" Arana asked.

Gun and Spartan both spoke at once. Though Gun was the senior figure of the IAB operation, Spartan was the one that had liaised with all the various bodies in the last weeks. Spartan stopped and gave way using a simple gesture. Gun acknowledged and continued with his briefing.

"The mission is a flexible, open-ended operation, with a long-term retainer for your services. You will receive the same fee for each week of service in the Tenth Quadrant, but as I said earlier, we need you for a more senior role."

Syala seemed unmoved at the mention of the money, but Arana's expression changed in an instant. Already the money offered was substantial, but a recurring payment week by week would leave all of her Widows as rich citizens. Syala said what both were thinking.

"For that kind of money we'll be doing more than a couple of raids, won't we? Who's paying for all this?"

Gun ran his left hand along his chin, giving the impression he was thinking carefully on her question.

"The finances provided for this operation are private, and I cannot pass them on. All you need to know is that it is a mixture of donors, both private and regional. A lot of people want to see a Byotai victory, but even more want to see the Anicinàbe held back."

He moved his attention to Arana who was clearly the driving force behind the unit.

"You will work alongside our command crew, with operations based upon conditions on the ground. I won't lie, though. It’s going to be tough, so be in no doubt we are expecting casualties down there. The clans have brought massive numbers to the Quadrant, and they are armed and equipped for war."

Spartan nodded repeatedly as Gun spoke.

"Exactly. With four clans on Karnak alone, they will be expecting a victory, and soon. Our mission is simple. We will be there to deny them that victory, and secondly, to help Makos and his forces in any way we can. You see, the Byotai are in trouble, and I mean big trouble. Their numbers are increasing, but much more slowly than the huge numbers of clan warriors streaming across the border. General Makos is hitting them where he can in space, but on the ground they are losing the fight."

Syala now seemed confused.

"Wait, I thought the reports showed Makos was gaining ground. Was that a lie?"

Spartan rubbed his lower jaw.

"Since we were there, things have fallen apart. Makos stabilised the situation, but now there are four clans the tide is slowly turning against him. He is fighting a losing battle to keep the clans from reinforcing their positions, and every day another blockade-runner reaches the surface. Makos has offered the Anicinàbe Exiles a home on Karnak and on the other worlds in the Quadrant, even for those that previously fought against him."

He let that sink in for a few seconds.

"This operation of ours will provide backbone to the reinforcements heading for Karnak."

Gun nodded continually as he listened to Spartan.

"Exactly. Once Makos and the others can present a unified quadrant, with settlers from the Byotai and the Anicinàbe, things will change. The Quadrant will no longer be one tied by race, but on the people that live there. The Alliance will offer to open diplomatic ties. That could mean a military agreement, maybe even membership of the Alliance."

Spartan pointed at the transports again.

"But not before a victory. The Alliance Council is supporting the Byotai Empire, but they will not support Byotai separatists openly, no matter how much they want to. They will help..."

"But only after their help is no longer needed. Great," said Syala.

Gun ignored those last words and indicated towards each of them.

"Spartan, Khan, Kanjana, Syala, and Arana. I've fought alongside you all, and I need you to provide a core of expertise for the Exiles, and for the Byotai fighters as a whole. You will take the combined unit to Karnak and use them to rally the Byotai and help them win this war."

The sisters were evidently still stunned at the scope of the mission and listened in silence to Gun.

"The Byotai have sufficient numbers to meet the clans in the field, but they need training, weapons, leadership, and command. This is something all of you will assist with."

Syala looked up to Gun.

"Are you not coming with us? We could do with your skills on Karnak again. Remember last time?"

The Jötnar leader sighed.

"I wish I could, but there are other things that need to be done."

He nodded back to the interior of the vast World Ship, but his disappointment was evident.

"The Brigade has a lot of work left to do before it is ready for major operations. Brigadier Black and I have been given the resources to fully fund us, especially by including other mercenary units on an ad hoc basis. The IAB is being enlarged, and its brief has changed."

He took in a slow breath. His chest pulled in taut and then expanded out just as slowly. Gun was clearly proud of what they had done, even if the lack of combat was proving tiresome.

"We are to be reinforced with mercenary and volunteer forces from outside, all under the command of the Brigade and based here, at Taxxu. The IAB will be the fastest and more flexible military force in the known galaxy."

"We expecting trouble?"

Gun smiled at Arana, and this time he bared his teeth. It was a simple gesture, but with him it always showed barely concealed delight.

"Not here, but outside of Taxxu. Who knows?"

The sisters exchanged looks, and Syala leaned a little closer to her twin.

"Do you get the impression they are building up resources for something big?"

Arana remained expressionless.

"What, like a full on war with the Anicinàbe?"

Syala hadn't thought of that, but the idea of a war with an enemy that controlled numbers beyond imagination seemed positively exciting. She looked back to Gun.

"Well, then, you had better make sure you're ready. Because when we're done on Karnak, you're going to have a lot of mercenaries with nothing to do."

Gun blinked once and then moved his eyes towards Spartan. There was an uneasy look shared between them, and in that instant Syala knew there was more to it. She turned to her right and gazed out at the scores of ships moving through the designated shipping lanes at Taxxu.

So, this is not the end, it isn't even the beginning of the end, is it?

A low buzzing sound distracted Spartan, and he looked to his thigh and lifted his secpad so that only he could hear it. Other than the buzz, it also emitted a series of low-pitched tones all of them recognised as a high-priority alert. It took just a moment before he showed the imagery to Gun. They spoke quietly for a few seconds, and Khan moved closer, hearing a name. As they watched the imagery, their expressions changed. Finally, Khan grabbed the device and smashed it to the floor. Spartan grabbed hold of him, but Khan was too much, even for Spartan. He pushed away and roared with anger. Gun looked to the rest of the group, but none of them knew what to say.

Gun hissed through his teeth.

"The situation has changed."

He gave Spartan a subtle nod and then marched away, signalling for Khan and Olik to follow; that left just Spartan, Kanjana, and the two sisters. They made it a short distanced before Khan stopped and slammed his fist into the metal inner wall of the ship. His other fist followed until he'd made a dent the size of a man's head in the plating. The sound reverberated throughout the vessel, and he looked back to Spartan, a bitter, angry expression on his face.

"Kras is a maniac. I want blood, Spartan...and I want it soon! Kras and Nakoma, both of their heads on pikes."

He moved away, Gun and Olik at his flanks.

"Well?" Arana demanded, "What's happened?"

Spartan's face remained neutral, but as the seconds ticked by, she could see the concern showing. Spartan blinked and then spoke. The words came out slowly, painfully, as though he was struggling with each sentence.

"News has arrived from Karnak. Kras, the Elder of the Khagi Byotai has gone insane, and he's just screwed us."

"What is it?" Syala asked.

Arana placed her head in her hands.

"What happened?"

Spartan continued to slowly shake his head as he explained.

"Kras was taking supplies and recruits on the trail to the Teeth, to help relieve the siege in the North. We were to meet up with them soon, but now that's all gone to hell."

He took two short breaths.

"The air cover, weather, and intelligence provided by General Makos all showed the route was clear for the mission. It's been planned for weeks and would have boosted the defences long enough for our arrival in the North. That was all part of our combined strategy."

Arana was becoming impatient at not knowing what had enraged Khan so much.

"And?"

Spartan put his head in his hand.

"Kras took it on himself to change the mission. He turned back around and took the route through the mountains to assault Montu, without assistance or reconnaissance beforehand. There's not much information, apart from a short broadcast from Wictred. He said their route was mined. The last seconds were of the ambush. The fight was short and bloody, and they were being overwhelmed."

Syala could see how angry he was. She stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder.

"All of them?"

Spartan looked up and into her eyes. She could see a fire burning there, one she'd only seen when he was in combat.

"Yes. Wictred is Khan's son, and he was leading Kras' bodyguard. His last message was that Kras had acted against his advice. The fool got them killed or captured, every single one of them. If they got to Kras, then that would mean their bodyguard was defeated. And that can mean only one thing, they're dead."

Spartan shook his head.

"Nakoma, the Spires War Chief has been parading Kras and a dozen other Byotai as prisoners. She is demanding the surrender of the outposts at the Teeth, or the prisoners will be executed."

Spartan's eyes seemed to positively glow with emotion, yet even then he was still able to conceal his true rage. He looked to Khan. He’d moved to a panel onto the wall of the Skyway. He activated the unit, and the transparent material turned black and began playing a videostream directly from Khan's own secpad unit.

"Watch this."

The tone he used made it all too clear; they had to watch it. The video was short, less than a minute long and mainly of a number of Spires clan warriors talking. Spartan almost walked away when Khan lifted his hand.

"Not yet."

Spartan shook his head and waited as the shape of Nakoma, the chief of the Spires took up position the middle of the image. The camera then panned to the right where three Jötnar were chained to the front of an excavating machine. The chains were as thick as a man's finger, and blood dripped from their many wounds. The Blood Pack armour had been removed, as had their clothes, so that their wounds and scars were easily seen. They were alive, but not responding, and Spartan could only assume they had been heavily sedated or rendered unconscious.

Where is Wictred? Spartan thought.

Nakoma stopped and then started again, but in heavily accented English.

"Any foreign mercenaries will suffer this fate."

Three of her warriors placed their curved blades at the throats of the Jötnar, and then with a quick action drew them across the flesh. Blood gushed from the wounds. Spartan stepped closer and hit the touch panel, instantly deactivating the stream.

"Enough!"

Khan bared his teeth and moved towards Spartan, his fists clenched tight. Spartan stood his ground and continued.

"We will stay on mission. And when the time comes...Khan and I will put a blade in Nakoma's chest. If Wictred lives, we will find him."

Syala stayed close to him. Arana looked back at Kanjana who so far had said nothing.

"What of this Nakoma? Will she do what she promises? Will Kras and any of the other prisoners be safe?"

Kanjana nodded.

"Of course, for now. She will not just kill them, though. Nakoma is famed for her cruelty, and the knife is her tool of choice. Kras will die, and his agony will be shown to everybody on Karnak, but only when it suits her."

"Good," snapped Spartan, "Maybe that will give Kras something to think about while we do what he should have done."

Arana seemed stunned at the words from Spartan, but Syala knew better. He had a hot temper but would calm in time. For now, they needed to let him vent his rage. Spartan pointed to the transports waiting out in space.

"It's time to turn the heat up on our clan friends. Get yourselves ready. We leave within the hour."

Spartan and Kanjana left in the same direction as Khan, leaving the sisters on their own. Arana sighed and both looked back out of the window and into space.

"So, not quite the reunion you were hoping for?"

Syala laughed.

"Well, not entirely true. I assumed my pulse would be racing, just not quite for these reasons. Now it would appear we are to lead an army of Exiles into battle. What could possibly go wrong, sister?"

Arana's face twitched at the last question. She reached out and put her arm around here twin.

"Sister. There is always something that can go wrong."

CHAPTER SIX

The Siege of Titan was the first military action in which the 6th Marine Regiment took part. Many famous names emerged in that action, from the redoubtable Admiral Jarvis through to General Rivers, a man who even today shapes military strategy and policy. Of the many individuals that took part, one would continue to rise through the ranks to become one of humanity's most controversial figures; this man was known simply as Spartan.

Back at the dawn of the Uprising, the Naval Station had been overrun, and many warships seized by the growing success of the militant zealotry. The battle, like so many in that was proved to be a bloodbath, with hundreds of dead on both sides. What should have been a precision strike turned into a full frontal assault, when the foot soldiers of both sides resorted to the most primitive weapons to win. Spartan earned a reputation on that moon, and since then the list of battles and casualties continues to grow.

Battles of the 6th Marine Regiment

Fortress of Montu, Karnak, Tenth Quadrant

Ogimà Nakoma lifted her head and sniffed the air. She could smell the subtle burning that came after the near pass of a civilian trade ship. Apart from the shrill whine of its engines as it sat on the landing pad, there was not a single sound. It looked as though all of Montu had been silenced for the arrival of this one vessel. Even its escort stayed high and above the range of the short-ranged Byotai missile systems. The air was still, with little sound other than the groan of a gentle breeze against the dusty ground. Darkness was starting to fade, and the long black shadows slowly softening as the sun rose off in the East. It was still little more than a yellow glimmer, but it was enough to increase the ambient light to show the crevices and valleys that littered the surface of the mineral rich planet.

This should have been over months ago.

Nakoma had seen the latest report from the battle at Medamud and still she could not believe it. The day before all she had heard were messages of glee at having finally drawn the infamous General Makos away from Karnak. The enemy leader had proven troublesome since his arrival, and not once had his ships been outmanoeuvred to give the larger number of Anicinàbe ships an opportunity to end the war. What made matters worse was that the Byotai had never been known as a race of pilots, their only real skills the grinding slog of siege warfare. Not once in the history of the two people had there been any record of a naval battle of this magnitude.

Now Tarak has ruined me.

Just an hour after General Makos moved into the Medamud System, all contact with the clan ships was lost. At first Ogimà Nakoma assumed it was part of a communications blackout, all to ensure total victory. There were still four more transports due to arrive, one of which carried the replacements for her aircraft, known as Hornets in the Alliance, and as Abn’dak to the Spires Clan. All of their aircraft took the names of hunting animals, the Abn’dak synonymous with the crow. The chance of a reversal had not occurred to her. Senior Centurion Siwili, her senior commander, leaned in and spoke quietly.

"It is confirmed, Ogimà. The Byotai have broken our defences at Medamud, and our strategic fleet has been shattered. Tarak is missing, and the forward base is gone. There is still no contact with the clan ships."

Ogimà Nakoma felt a shudder through her body, and her chest hurt, a consequence of the stresses she was now under on Karnak. All of her people were now here, and with the ships gone she was stuck. The planet no longer felt like a prize to her, but instead a great prison upon which four clans were trapped.

"I still do not believe this. We were promised security on the shipping lanes. How can we fight, if we are starved of the resources of war? This must be propaganda from the Byotai. It has to be."

Siwili looked off to his side and then lowered his head, speaking even more quietly.

"Ogimà."

The female leader of the Spires Clan snapped out of her trance and looked in the direction of his gaze. It was a Ma'heen, a special type of heavily armoured Anicinàbe transport ship, and a large craft of similar size to the Maulers used by the Alliance. Where the Human craft were rough and violent looking, this was long, smooth, and aesthetically beautiful. The body consisted of a single, self-lifting wing. The engines were hidden inside its ample body. Markings from the thirteen border clans adorned its exterior, reminding Nakoma of its supposed neutrality in the affairs of the clans.

Neutrality, more like dictatorship under one man. If he has his way, the clans will vanish and fight under one banner...his. I will never relinquish control of the Spires.

The shrill whine of the craft's engines died down just as the ramp lowered. This was not the heavy slam from a landing craft, but the slow, smooth movement of something closer to a diplomatic ship. It was easy to assume the vessel was not suited to combat, but Nakoma could see the subtle markings that betrayed the position of weapon hatches and missile bays. In seconds this peaceful looking ship could turn into a deadly gunship, and its hold could carry an entire century of armoured clan warriors.

"With me."

Ogimà Nakoma stepped towards the craft, flanked by her four senior commanders. Off behind her lay the long ranks of Spires warriors resplendent in their clan armour and sand cloaks flowing gently with the light breeze. In the past they had looked more like a rag-tag band of raiders, but since Tahkeome sent the call to arms, their look had changed. Now he required something much more than the disorganisation of the past. Nakoma looked back at her people and grimaced.

He would have us organised by legion, and building cities high to the sky like the Helions. This is not our way. It never was.

Footsteps marked the passage of a group down the ramp, and then she saw him. They had spoken many times before, but always the video communication had been distorted in some way. Now, as he came down the ramp, she could see his entire body was covered in dark clothing that hid every part of his form. The limbs and torso were shielded behind armour, but just as she was convinced at what she had seen, the dark robes would shift and change the form once more, giving him a sinister and mysterious appearance.

"Ogimà Nakoma," he said with a smooth, almost musical tone.

He stopped and waited as his escort continued down the ramp, and before them were six Byotai, each battered and bloody. One in particular was an Elder, and his arm covered in a rough looking sling.

"I noticed a column of Byotai on the way to the city. My escort bombarded them and then assaulted them before they could escape."

He pointed at them, barely lifting his arm from his side.

"Use them as you wish, but I suggest they might be useful to break the will of those that remain."

He walked to the oldest looking warrior and placed a covered hand on his hand.

"This one is Kras, commander of the Caldos Enclave. One I believe you have been hunting for some time."

Nakoma looked at the Byotai and felt an incredible urge to strike him down where he stood. Only the regal figure of Tahkeome and his entourage put her off, and so she gave a polite nod.

"This is indeed a kingly gift. My forces were in position to ambush them closer to our defensive positions. But I thank you..."

She paused, considering how conciliatory she should be. Something primal inside her wanted to play the part of the savage; perhaps even to be offended at what had taken place. Launching a small-scale assault in her sector, and so close to Montu, was certainly cause for her removal.

He seems polite, almost happy at what he has done. Maybe he is weaker than I expected. Or he is trying to test my resolve or humility in a time of crisis?

Tahkeome, like his guards was dressed in such a way that his armour and robes disrupted his shape.

"There is always the chance for a mistake or a misjudgement. This will give me a bargaining token to use against the cold-bloods, or a means of punishment."

Ogimà Nakoma looked to her own warriors and gave Siwili a signal. He passed it on, and in a matter of seconds a group of ten warriors approached the ramp. They moved quickly, their feet almost in time. The unit stopped upon reaching their war chief. Nakoma stretched out her arm and pointed at Kras.

"Take the prisoners to the Citadel."

The ten dispersed to seize the prisoners and then dragged them off. A single Byotai refused and was struck hard in the back. He staggered and dropped to one knee. One of the soldiers tried to lift him and was rewarded with a powerful head butt that sent him flying. Ogimà Nakoma moved from her position and blocked the Byotai warrior’s path. In one fluid motion she whipped out a curved blade and slashed it across his throat. The movement was so fast the blade drew a dark line across the flesh that was impossible to perceive. To anybody unfamiliar with the Ogimà, it could have been a failed attack, but not with her. She turned and walked away just as the reptilian warrior dropped to his knees. The guards stayed well away as he shuddered, and in a just a few seconds he was unconscious and dying before them. Tahkeome looked back to Nakoma. She nodded towards his soldiers.

"I see your warriors have adopted the ways of the ancients."

Tahkeome tilted his head in a polite, conciliatory gesture.

"There was a time, well before either of us was born, a time back before the clans and our scattering to the stars. In those days, we knew it was our destiny to shape the future of the galaxy. Our people marched into battle as foot soldiers, led by centurions and travelling vast distances in all directions. We conquered worlds and placed our standards in every corner of the galaxy, bringing light to its darkest parts, using nothing more than simple weapons and our own strength."

While still cloaked and hidden, he looked up and took in the warm air of Karnak.

"The Humans think they will provide leadership, and in doing so have embraced machines and technology, as did those at Taxxu. All that align themselves with the machines have failed. The Trusska vanished because of their reliance upon intelligent machines to save them, and their foolish attempts to create perfection. The Helions and T'Kari are a shadow of their former selves, races barely worthy of mentioning. What does that leave?"

Nakoma opened her mouth to answer, but Tahkeome gave her no chance to speak.

"Just the dry husks of the Khreenk and Klithi. The Khreenk are a broken society of bandits, mercenaries, and pirates, a people worthy of no more than cheap cannon fodder for the others. And the Klithi."

He shook his head and laughed, a strange noise that sent a shiver down Nakoma's back.

"They are slow, fat, and useless creatures, interested only in furthering their self-centred minds while they leave the hard labour to machines."

He walked closer to her, still sniffing the air as though he had never once stood upon a world such as this one.

"Above all, the old races believe that intelligence machines and biological experimentation will bring them to perfection. That somehow these creations can make their lives better and easier."

"It will not?"

"That is correct, Ogimà Nakoma. All that is required for success is loyalty. Machines, equipment, and technology are a distraction and one that will see every species succumb. We will stand above them by refusing this. It is my intention to shake us from our machine shackles, and to seek enlightenment through our own flesh and bones."

He gazed out into the distance towards the mountains and the pale clouds of dust that always seemed to fill the planet.

"Ah...it has been a long, long time since I stepped on my old homeworld."

Tahkeome then turned his attention to the lines of warriors again, and without making a sound, he lowered to one knee and grasped a handful of the sand like dust. As he lifted it up, the grains fell through his fingers. He lingered there, clearly enjoying the moment, even as short as it was. Tahkeome rose to his full height and let the last few grains blow away in the gentle breeze.

"For too long the Anicinàbe have been scattered, nothing more than wandering clans, each spending as much time scavenging for anything of value as they do fighting each other."

He then looked up to the sky.

"We have a destiny, Ogimà Nakoma. A destiny all of us have a part to play in. I want you to be at my side as the Anicinàbe transition from a collection of bickering clans to a power that will bring riches beyond our wildest dreams."

Nakoma bowed down just as Tahkeome threw off his cloak to reveal a tall, athletic body. Like all the Anicinàbe, he was graceful and lithe in build, yet compared to the others he was a little taller and much more strongly built.

"I do not talk of coin or the accumulation of wealth. Instead, I speak of the dream, one long held by our people of the Star Empire. All people equal and united in the cause of the common good."

He took a few more steps closer before she could see something was off. His upper body was much broader than any Anicinàbe she'd seen before. The bones of his face were more pronounced, and his skin had lost the pale whiteness of her people. It was coloured by a subtle hints of viridian.

A half-breed! What treachery is this?

She turned her attention to the honour guard of warriors that marched down alongside him. Each was attired in enough protection to put most Alliance warriors to shame. The armour was intricately carved in bone white, a stark reminder of the ancestry. There was a great discrepancy in their body shapes, some looking little different to her, and others closer to a Byotai in overall stature.

"It is good to finally meet the leader of our clans on Karnak, Ogimà Nakoma of the Spires Clan."

Ogimà Nakoma felt a twitch in her cheek at those words. She'd expected harshness or anger, especially with her continued failure to take control of the planet. He came closer until she could smell an intoxicating aura that emanated out from his ship. It was unfamiliar, yet reminded her of some of the trade convoys they had raided in the past.

"Tell me, Ogimà Nakoma. How close are General Makos and his Byotai to claiming victory on this world? How is it that Kras and his rebels were able to come so near to your capital? Should I be concerned?"

Nakoma was speechless. The pleasant words from Tahkeome continued, and the tone had not altered. Yet the implication to her was one of defeat and failure. She had fought hard on Karnak, perhaps harder than any of the other clan leaders. Her face darkened, and she forced herself to wait, taking in multiple slow breaths. The pause was not for long even though it felt like an eternity.

"My Lord, this will never happen. Makos may have won a victory in space, but he has failed here. We have numbers, control of the sky, and more important, I have full control of Montu, Caldos, and the Khagi District is all but mine."

Tahkeome gave her a polite nod but said nothing, so Nakoma continued.

"The Red Scars leadership was crippled in their uncoordinated assault against the mercenaries. Instead of striking alongside me, their fool of an Ogimà wasted lives."

Nakoma tried to gauge Tahkeome's mood, but he was as difficult to read as when he had arrived at the spaceport.

Is he here to usurp my position, or does he really want me at his side?

A moment of doubt forced her to hesitate, but deep down she knew that whatever her master had decided to do, it would be out of her control.

Better to stand tall and fight if I have to. The Spires bow to none.

"Tahkeome, the Red Scars should have been wiped out for their insanity. Instead, I have made use of their remaining number. They are little more than slaves, but under my command, I have given them new life as units for the war. I sent the majority to continue the fight in the South. The constant uprisings in the Depression have cost many lives."

She smiled, imagining the losses the Red Scars had sustained.

"As penance for their foolishness, the Red Scars now suffer in my stead."

Tahkeome appeared intrigued at this new information.

"I see, curious, and the Stone Teeth? Are the Byotai still entrenched around their mountain fortresses?"

Ogimà Nakoma nodded.

"Yes, my Lord. The Byotai remain, but not for long. I have sent the Zuni and Kolchan clans to complete the siege lines at the Stone Teeth. The fighting has gone on for weeks with little change. That is why a large portion of the Red Scars have been relocated to the Northern front."

"To what end?"

This time Ogimà Nakoma was unable to hide her feelings. The Red Scars had proven a great dishonour to her and the Spires, but with their defeat she had been proven correct. That one event had strengthened her position, even if that of her people had been weakened overall.

"Cannon fodder for the assault. They seem keen to engage in fruitless attacks, so their interest has a new home. The Zuni and Kolchan clans are using them to probe the Byotai lines, and to send in as a forlorn hope. I understand they have been unsuccessful, so far."

He looked at her with eyes that seemed to pierce deeply to her soul. It was as entrancing as it was uncomfortable.

"I see. It would appear you have a firm grip on the war here. Your forces control the critical central district, and you have substantial forces on your two fronts. What exactly are you mobilising your clan for?"

He looked out at the large numbers of vessels all lined up in the spaceport. A good number were designed for combat, but there were also plenty of transports now redundant.

"As soon as the defences are breached, I will send reinforcements. Until then, my forces will continue preparing for the final battle. I have the numbers and firepower at my disposal to annihilate my enemies."

Tahkeome sighed.

"And yet for all the victories you have experienced, Karnak remains at war, while Tarak and our forces have been defeated in space. The entire strategic fleet has been smashed. How did this happen?"

Nakoma began to shake her head. Tahkeome had been gone for some time, and she had no idea what he had been doing for the last two months. Even so, the space battle was nothing to do with her, and she had no intention of claiming responsibility for anything Tarak or the ship captains had done.

"No, my Lord. That is nothing but Byotai propaganda. I take my position very seriously on Karnak, but what happens up there, well, that is out of my hands."

She licked her lips and immediately regretted sounding so defensive and weak.

You fool, command the conversation, or fall forever.

"My clan has brought everything here to claim Karnak in our name, my Lord. What happens out there in the void; it means little."

Tahkeome turned his attention momentarily away from Nakoma and to the other four. After examining each of them, he concentrated on Nakoma's senior commander, noting the marking on his armour and sand cloak.

"Senior Centurion Siwili, your reputation precedes you."

The warrior bowed a little in acknowledgement.

"Thank you, Lord Tahkeome."

He then looked out to the assembled mass of warriors and smiled.

"You have created a fine army for the League, one filled with experienced warriors. It will be my honour to lead it against my enemies."

Siwili said nothing, but Ogimà Nakoma couldn't control herself.

"You are staying here to lead the war effort?"

Tahkeome smiled, an alluring expression that would have melted the heart of any before him, but not the stone-cold heart of Nakoma.

"No, my great war chief."

The name should have been a great honour, but at this moment it felt like a slap to her face. She'd spent months building up forces and relocating her entire clan here.

"The Council is gone, destroyed in a celestial event that has consumed three star systems. The Ogimà have seized the chance and turned on each other, just as they always have. With the Byotai snapping at our flanks, we face disaster and ruin from both outside and within."

"I...I had not heard this," said Nakoma.

Tahkeome continued to speak, as though he had not even heard her.

"I am taking responsibility for the safety of our people. I am therefore calling upon the ancient tithe from every border clan. It is time for us in the Marche to show the rest of our people what strength and resilience truly is."

His lip lifted a little at the corner.

"I will bring order from chaos, once and for all for every Anicinàbe. No longer will we be pushed around by the Byotai, the Khreenk, and the others."

Tahkeome lifted both of his hands high above his head.

"When I am successful, I will remove the Council and the League, and in its place an Imperium will be created. As it was foretold millennia ago by our ancestors."

Ogimà Nakoma was stunned. The ancient tithe required handing over twenty-five percent of her warriors. Doing so would cripple her plans to assist the other clans in the North and South of the planet.

"Ogimà, you will command here and continue your fine work during my absence. The Byotai are strong, and their resources are ample to prolong this war. They will not be defeated by naked force of arms."

He ground one fist into the open palm of the other as he composed himself. Ogimà Nakoma glanced over to his personal guard, but not one of them moved, not even when he showed signs of emotion or passion.

"Their will to fight must first be broken, and from that will come fear. A fear so strong and deep-rooted even their bravest fighters will tremble for the sake of their homes and families. Then, and only then, will come their ultimate defeat."

Ogimà Nakoma began to smile as she listened to these words. Since arriving on Karnak, the clans had been given simple directions. To avoid giving the Byotai casus belli; it was important to keep the fighting low key. Attacks were fast, targeted, and followed up by raids. For months she'd wanted to take off the gloves and take the fight to the Byotai, and now it seemed she might get her wish.

"What is it you ask of me?"

Tahkeome moved closer and extended out his arms to her shoulders.

"The reputation of Ogimà Nakoma, the Angel of Death, is known throughout our territory. I want the Byotai to learn first hand what the terror of Ogimà Nakoma truly is. You will take the remainder of your forces and change tactics to that of terror. Break their will, burn their homes, and bomb their cities."

Nakoma almost choked at hearing this. To another warrior this might have bordered on offensive, but not to her. She had not heard that nickname in a long time, and even then only from her own people. In her early days, she had raided border colonies and transports, taking prisoners and torturing them until ransomed, or simply for sport.

A Terror War, that is exactly what Karnak needs.

Tahkeome turned back and spoke quietly to one of his personal guards, and then looked back to her. He seemed very happy with what they had discussed, much to Nakoma's surprise.

"Nakoma. I cannot stay. Much that I would like to participate in this operation, I must repair the damage done by our people."

He looked back at the ship he had so recently arrived on.

"The Anicinàbe have failed for centuries. This disruption is the opportunity we need to finally bring unity and order. I will return, be it a month or even a year, and we will unleash an age of unity."

Nakoma tried to speak, but her mouth was dry and parched.

"Ogimà Nakoma, you must bring me a war and introduce a reign of terror like the Byotai have never experienced before. In exchange for your sacrifice, when I return, I will bring back ten warriors for every one you give me today. When they see our legions, they will flee like the cold-bloods they are."

The leader of the Spires Clan bowed.

"It will be done, my Lord. And when that day comes, we will stand shoulder-to-shoulder against all enemies of the Anicinàbe."

Tahkeome gave her a polite smile.

"Of course, Ogimà. You will be among my most trusted generals. It will be a holy war like no other, and all will be welcome to live in our domain, once they yield."

He turned back to his craft and walked between the two lines of personal guards. Ogimà Nakoma lifted herself up tall as she watched him leave. At first her rage was almost impossible to contain. Losing a number of her warriors was far from ideal, but being among the leading generals of Tahkeome would be a height she had never once expected to reach. Even better was having the restrictions removed from her activities.

The Byotai will beg for my forgiveness when this is over. And I will offer it, before gutting them like cattle.

Then she noticed that Tahkeome had stopped and was looking at her. For a fraction of a second she sensed betrayal, and her right hand began to move low against her thigh, reaching for a weapon. Even on such a ceremonial occasion she would carry weapons. Blades were normal in her clan, but Nakoma also carried a short-barrelled pistol. This ceremonial weapon contained a pair of octagonal barrels, one above the other. As her fingers moved to the grip, she spotted Tahkeome open his mouth to speak.

Wait, but be ready.

"Ogimà, give the order. I require your troops and transports to carry them within the hour. When you are done, you will join me aboard my vessel. We can finalise arrangements for your campaign, and more important, we will follow the old way in the sealing of our union."

"Old way, my Lord?"

Tahkeome lowered his head in a conciliatory fashion.

"All that live within our glorious new Imperium will unite. Anicinàbe, Byotai, Khreenk, even Human. All will have a place in our new world, but only if they succumb to our ways. This is not a union of words, or coin, or territory. We will bind our Imperium with the union of flesh."

Ogimà Nakoma swallowed uncomfortably. The thought of Tahkeome taking her might have thrilled her imagination in the past, but having seen him, and knowing he was of impure origin, sent a shudder through her body. The division of her race had begun centuries earlier, and even after all this time, it was still the greatest crime to be classed as a half-blood.

"Me, my Lord?"

Tahkeome had now reached the top of the ramp and still faced away from her.

"Bring a friend, or bring ten, if that is your desire. It matters not, providing the ritual of flesh is observed. There is no number you can think of that will satiate me. When the union is complete, we will be joined until the end."

He then vanished, leaving Nakoma speechless, yet wondrous of what this glorious future might entail.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The myths of the Trusskan people have always been something of an enigma. Until the bloodbath in T'Kari space, few in the Alliance gave the stories much thought. In the months and years after, rumours spread of advanced technology, and of the enlightenment that such knowledge could bring. It did not take long for movements on different worlds to begin, all founded on the idea of creating explorer fleets to search the far reaches of space. The Carthago Trade Consortium took advantage of this interest to help fund the charitable institution known as The Guild of Explorers, and though it would take considerable time, the eventual rewards would prove beyond measure.

Gods from the Machine

Byotai Armoured Troop Transport 'Kraken',

Karnak, Tenth Quadrant, 5 Days Later

The alarm sounded as the transport deactivated one of its primary engines and engaged the next in line. This gave a subtle shift in gravity as the levels of propulsion shifted, even for a moment. The old ship groaned as the bulkheads were put under new pressures from the power system. It was certainly more advanced than the old Confederate ships, but changes in power did affect the levels of gravity field that could be off putting to those inexperienced in the war of ancient Byotai ships. From what Spartan had read, the change in power could affect gravity by up to fifteen percent.

Not enough to cause a major upset, but enough to spill my damned drink.

He leaned back in the metal seat as the gravity returned to normal and lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips. He'd come across the odd shifts in gravity more than a dozen times on this trip, and used the opportunity to try something different. As the shift occurred, he threw back his drink. The shift in weight pulled the drink into his mouth slightly faster, and it ran down his throat to leave a burning sensation in his chest. The taste was unusual, but with so much on his mind he gave it little thought.

The room was previously used as a storage area for engine parts, and though they had cleared it out as best as possible, it still had little in common with a recreation room. There were a dozen people inside, and all were speaking quietly, talking about the mission or their families. At the far end was a very different group, one of four Byotai half-blood Exiles, and they were busily engaging in a loud and rather boisterous conversation. Kanjana was also there and to Spartan's surprise, they all seemed to be getting on.

"Well?" asked Syala, "Maybe your eyes would like to wander somewhere else?"

Spartan put down the drink and shook his head. He and Syala were sitting opposite each other with a pair of glasses on the table. Spartan was wearing his off-duty uniform that looked little different to the fatigues he always seemed to wear. Syala had kept things simple with a tightly fitted, white coloured blouse that had a pair of pockets on the chest and military style epaulettes on the shoulders. At her waist were the dark combat trousers that she frequently wore. They were pushed down into black combat boots.

"This is something you really want to do?"

Syala leaned in close across the small round table and reached out to hold his arms.

"Oh, yes. We did what you wanted last time, and now it's my turn."

She released his hands and sat back in her chair.

"I really want to do it, you don't know how much."

Spartan shook his head and leaned towards her, placing his bare elbow on the table. Syala immediately noticed the marks on his flesh that betrayed so many stories of his past adventures. Some were the scars of blades and gunshot wounds, many others the signs of torture or medical procedures. Syala shook her head as she did the same with her right arm, after pulling up her sleeve. Unlike Spartan's flesh, her skin was smooth and seemed completely unmarked. Spartan chuckled.

"Very smooth, almost untouched..."

"Funny. And for your information, my arm has been touched more than you can imagine. Just unlike you, I managed to avoid getting cut in the process. Now...are we doing this, or are you going to talk me to death?"

They joined hands in a tight grip, and Syala adjusted her seating position. Spartan remained exactly as he had been. People in the background continued to speak, but at least three had spotted the contest and moved a little closer to watch. One came out from the shadows with a glass of blue fluid in one hand.

"I see you two are busy?"

Spartan looked to his right and up at Arana. Unlike her sister, she'd elected for a more conservative look, and still wore armour on her legs. Her chest was layered with the under armour padding only worn under her plating. Arana's head was bare, and she carried no weapons other than her usual mixture of sidearms. The three of them had little time to socialise since leaving Taxxu, and short breaks such as this one were perfect to break up the monotony of training, organising, and preparing for what was to come. Spartan lifted one eyebrow and smiled.

"Of course."

He nodded at her thigh.

"The ship is safe. You can relax for now."

Syala sighed from across the table.

"Arana never relaxes. My sister could be inside a fortress, surrounded by friends, and she would still expect trouble."

Spartan noticed her expression change from troublesome to playful, something he was more than familiar with. As she spoke, she moved her eyes to Spartan, lifting her eyebrows.

"I tell you what she needs..."

"Oh?"

Syala then laughed.

"Arana needs a man to unwind her for a little while. She's wound up like a spring."

With little more than a mutter she walked away, leaving the two at the table. One of the Byotai half-bloods cut across her path, raised a drink to her, and then began speaking. To Spartan's surprise, Arana continued to talk to the individual for more than a few seconds. He looked back to Syala.

"Subtle," said Spartan, "Very subtle."

He then focused his eyes on hers and tightened his grip. She was taller than Teresa had been and her upper body much heavier built, no doubt a consequence of the continued body improvement programmes. Of all her traits, the single thing they truly shared was temperament. Teresa was never one to take orders, and Syala was cut from the same cloth, and more likely to disagree with him on principle than for any other reason.

"Okay, then, shall we do this?"

Syala grinned as she brought up her left hand and rested it against her chest. For a moment Spartan thought she was going to try and use the hand to assist the right, but it stayed there, at least for now.

"You should ask her. I bet she would say yes."

Spartan grinned, knowing full well that Syala was toying with him, and more than likely just trying to put him in yet another embarrassing situation.

"Ready?"

Both of them tensed, taking up the slack in their limbs. Syala was strong, but Spartan was on an entirely different level. His muscles were toned and well developed from years of use and the many improvements offered at Taxxu that he had been more than willing to try. It was rare for a man in his position to be quite so forthcoming when it came to experimentation, but with his family gone, he'd found himself more than comfortable with the discomfort. Even before his many surgical procedures, he doubted he could ever lose an arm wrestling match to anybody short of Khan or one of his kin. And even then he would give them a good run for their money.

"...Go!"

Syala snapped open her blouse with her left arm as he finished the word and then both pushed hard. One of the buttons popped off and landed on the table. As the fabric moved aside, Spartan could see the black undergarments and bare flesh beneath. Spartan's arm was stationary, but only for a fraction of a second. He kept his eyes locked onto hers and then loosened his grip for a fraction. As his arm pushed back a few centimetres, Syala began to push harder, straining her muscles. He let her push a fraction further and then used the motion to push back. In one smooth action he forced Syala's arm to the table with a dull thump.

"Ouch...that hurt," she said coyly.

Spartan lifted an eyebrow and looked at her partially exposed chest.

"Nice try, but you forget something."

Syala buttoned up her blouse, feigning disappointment that her distraction ploy had failed. A couple of the mercenaries from one of the other units watched, and one seemed especially amused with what he had seen. Syala removed her hand from the open fabric and picked the last remaining button.

"And what's that?"

Spartan laughed.

"I've seen them before."

Syala rose from her chair and walked around directly behind Spartan. She moved in close until her head was against his right ear and spoke quietly, but not so much that the few nearby could still hear.

"Want to see them again?"

* * *

Spartan's mind continued to drift as he moved through the ship. He'd now visited four separate detachments, including the Black Widows, and explained what he expected from each of them. The Exiles had been the strangest, with not one of them understanding a word he'd said. Even so, each warrior he'd spoken to was keen to reach Karnak and to get on with their job; all that remained was the Blood Pack, who had now taken Khan and Olik on as effectively one of their own.

The fools.

Spartan was well aware that the Blood Pack was home to the roughest and most violent of the Jötnar. Since the end of the Biomech War, many had hired themselves out to the hundreds of small units and associations in the Alliance. Lacking the structure and discipline of the regular military, they were becoming something of a nuisance, and gaining quite a reputation. With every operation their skill increased, and so did their lust for carnage and the spoils that came with them. More troubling was they had heard the news of the ambush on Karnak and the massacre of men, women, Byotai, and Jötnar alike. The defeat of their brothers was one that demanded justice in the way only they could provide, and he knew they would want more than just the perpetrators.

They are getting out of control.

Spartan shook his head and found he was moving faster as he considered the situation. With regular soldiers he could hold them back, but the idea of putting over a hundred of them in close proximity to those that had brutalised their friends was a problem. There were already calls from many of the colonial representatives in the Alliance Council to rein them in.

The Blood Pack will slaughter a thousand of the Spires, and still it will not be enough.

The upper levels of the massive transport were a hive of small corridors. This was in stark contrast to the bulk storage areas that filled out the rest of the ship. IAB technicians had converted them to house barrack rooms for the Tenth Quadrant Exiles. Though more than functional in its role, it was still very different to custom built assault transports used by the other races. Spartan had started his career in the Confederate Marine Corps aboard such a ship. They shared a role, but their configuration could not have been more different. Assault ships were designed to fulfil two roles, the first to transport troops and equipment to war zones, and the second to provide the ability to deposit them into such a place. For all the blustering, Kraken was only capable of the former, and everybody on board knew that.

If we ever go into combat, this thing will be nothing more than a coffin.

Spartan moved away from the six smaller rooms being used as quarters for the Black Widows and to the centre section of the ship. For a short part of the walk, he was behind two of the Widows. Unlike Syala and Arana, they always kept their faces covered when among others. The sisters had explained the measure was a simple one of protection, primarily due to their missions in the Alliance. Missions against organised crime lords and their entourages could get them and their families killed. He looked at them as they walked and wondered if they were also female. Both were as tall as him, though less bulky. He suspected they were, not that it would make any difference in combat.

He turned the next corner and into a wider passageway where a hidden machine made a continuous and very annoying clicking sound. Both of the Widows entered one of the side doors, and as they entered, Spartan spotted a number of their comrades in various stages of dress. Even their under armour was dark, giving the impression of skin-tight armour. One saw him and looked back in his direction. A black face protector concealed her face, but he could see her neck and forehead, as well as the long locks of golden hair.

Interesting.

Another female voice said something, and the door shut with a dull clunk. Spartan shook his head and continued onwards. The interior lighting flickered as he walked until he reached half of its length. There was not a soul to be seen at this point, even though he could hear the sounds of armoured boots far off into the distance. After so many years of combat and training, he could recognise the different types of soldier often just by this sound. The marines of the Alliance wore fully enclosed PDS armour that left a dull clunking sound, whereas the Jötnar created a deep thumping noise. The Thegns were far more rhythmic, sharing more with machines than the other flesh and blood soldiers.

We could have used them in this fight.

Spartan continued forwards and recalled the recurring dream he had encountered since hearing of the latest developments on Karnak, one of the most common of the fighting on Spascia a decade earlier. He envisioned the great demonic monsters and machines of the Biomech enemy as they brutalised the defenders of Spascia. Every time they became bigger, stronger, and more dangerous, he was there trying to stop them. After more than a decade, Spartan had seen Teresa and his son Jack killed a hundred times. In these dreams Spartan killed in the hundreds, perhaps thousands, and still he continued to fail. This new dream was something very different, though; it was becoming more and more of a vision.

A pair of IAB technicians approached with a wheeled sled carrying a single heavy weapon to fit on a set of Blood Pack armour. Spartan waited as they passed him by and looked at the unit with interest. He then continued onwards, his thoughts returning to that one vision-like experience. It was a simple dream, where he imagined what the battlefields of Karnak would look like with unrestricted warfare, being fought in any manner he determined necessary. If he was given the go-ahead, he could put an entire army on the surface. The defenders would be bolstered by at least a few hundred thousand Thegns on the ground. With Alliance armour and weaponry, and transported by the IAB, they could be in and out of action in hours, and with vast numbers.

An army, united by purpose, not race. Like that could happen.

To anybody else the idea might have seemed horrific, but with the war over, the surviving Thegns were now totally loyal to their masters. These last of the Twelve Biomech rebels were some of the most loyal creatures Spartan had ever encountered. As well as providing the key to the knowledge locked away at Taxxu, they had also pulled back the last remaining Biomech armies. Few trusted them, though, and there was little chance the Thegns or any of the other creatures from the war would ever be given unrestricted access to Alliance facilities or institutions. The numbers of these soldiers was great but nothing compared to the dormant casualties drifting in long sealed Tomb Ships at Taxxu. These were the remains of warriors lost long ago, yet they were a resource waiting to be tapped into. In Spartan's dreams they would go into battle and die to the last man, without hesitation or concern for their lives, even those that had spent years alongside Humans and perfecting their many skills.

Spartan, Gun, and Khan had spent hundreds of hours with the remaining Biomech rebels, discussing the past, and the mysteries of the time well before the races fought against each other. According to On’Sarax, the Biomechs were just one of the many races created by something in the Helion Nexus. The rebel Biomech suspected that each race had been specialised, with the Helions and T'Kari originally being one people, the most populous and suitable for all roles. The Byotai were a warrior class, and the Klithi the traders and explorers. He had seemed almost saddened that the knowledge of past events had long been lost, and now only remnants could be found. He thought that one day all might be united in purpose, but that day was far from now.

Spartan smiled to himself, recalling one particular conversation where they had argued about the virtues of each of the races working together. Spartan often dreamt of this last conversation. It was one of the most enjoyable debates with his friends, and also the last true conversation he and Z'Kanthu had before his death in the war.

The races unified, and with a single purpose would be something incredible. We have the technology and resources to do this. The Thegns would fight under our banner. Leaders like Five-Seven could command them, with advanced equipment provided by the Alliance, pilots by the Anicinàbe, ground troops from the Jötnar and Byotai, and so much more. What could we achieve if we worked as one?

Artificial creatures like Khan, Gun, and even Five-Seven had proven what they could do. Five-Seven had risen through the ranks to become the most recognisable face of his entire species, while Gun had commanded entire Human armies into battle. Spartan began to daydream as he made his way through the myriad of passageways. He imagined legions of the warriors, each protected by their natural body armour, and with powerful Alliance weaponry in their hands. Mixed in with them were platoons of Humans in Maverick armour and just as many Jötnar, at least half in the silver and grey of the Blood Pack. In Spartan's mind it was the perfect fusion of man and alien, supported by the technology of many ages. He then shook his head with wry amusement.

Like any of them want to see that, they would sooner fight each other for no other reason than they are different. Nothing could make them work together.

Spartan moved further towards the blast door. This was the end of the narrow corridors, and from memory he knew the next section was the primary access shaft that ran through two-thirds of the ship.

If I were ever given the chance, I'd bring them all together. Hell, I'd force them together. Man, alien, synthetic, Biomech, and machine. We'd be infinitely better together than at each other’s throats.

At that very moment, when his optimistic vision of the future shifted, the lights went out. For a second it was as if he'd lost his vision. Spartan half-expected he would hit the ground but quickly realised every one of the lights had cut out completely because the ceiling strip lights had failed. Just the gentle glow of one red light far off in the distance provided any relief.

What caused that?

Spartan stepped to the side of the passage, making sure the wall was at his flank and instinctively reaching for his pistol, expecting trouble at any moment. He might be unarmoured, but Spartan was never one to be caught unarmed. Even the strongest warrior could be laid low by a knife to the gut or a blade drawn across the throat. Whether on the World Ship at Taxxu, or even visiting Syala deep in the bowels of the transport ship, Spartan was protected.

"You're kidding me."

Spartan paused for a moment, making sure he could see his way through the next section. Many parts of the transport were unfit for habitation, and this section seemed to belong in the middle category. Long cables ran in loose lengths along the ground where they had been hastily installed. His eyes finally adjusted, and the single light on the right side of the blast door was enough for him to see the ground and walls around him. He relaxed and then continued on.

Better.

Upon reaching blast door, he tapped the gently glowing red panel. The metal plating slid open, and the dull orange light almost blinded him. Spartan lifted one hand to shield his face just as a squad of twelve Jötnar marched past him. Like all of the Jötnar mercenaries on the ship, they were members of the Blood Pack, and though equipped to do a similar job to their Alliance incarnations, they looked little like them; lacking the complex PDS armour and JAS suits used by the Alliance Jötnar units. The Blood Pack were still massive, and while the regular Alliance Jötnar were relatively uniform, this group made extensive use of their own personalised, albeit less complex equipment.

What is that?

Spartan sniffed the air, trying his best to avoid the smell. The ship was clearly not designed for the transport of ground soldiers, and already the place was filling up with the stench of oil, sweat, and food. Combined, it reminded him of the smells often found in the busy parts of New Carlos on Prime or the backstreets of Kerberos. An IAB officer stopped in front of him and indicated to an open doorway on the right where a faint trickle of smoke pushed out.

"Sir, there's been a fire in the lower galley. We're moving everybody back until it's cleared."

Spartan noticed the smell was much stronger than before.

"Serious?"

The Lieutenant shook his head.

"Not really. One of the Jötnar started a fire, and it knocked out three ovens and a storage bin. It spread fast and wiped out stores in two lockers. The fumes were the real problem, but we'll have that sorted out within the next thirty minutes."

"Very well, carry on."

It was a minor issue, one of many that had occurred over the last few days. The timetable had been pushed ahead due to the growing problems on Karnak. This meant conducting much of the preparation for the mission during the trip.

If this had been an IAB only operation, they would already have arrived at Karnak. But this was no IAB sanctioned operation. It was a clandestine unit being moved in civilian ships. The fleet had travelled for days now, but with nothing more complex than conventional engines was forced to use the Interstellar Network. This series of Spacebridges connected all the regional star systems, as well as most of the planets. Though travelling through these rifts in space-time, there was still the time to travel to the next Spacebridge, and depending on the route, this could take days or even weeks at full-speed.

To an outsider, it looked no more complex or threatening than a large trade fleet. The transports were nothing special, an odd mixture of Byotai and Helion, and only a few showing any kind of external weapons. There were eight ships in total, with twice that number of small Byotai escorts and a pair of Alliance Liberty class destroyers for area defence. The last two ships would follow to the Byotai border, where they would then hold back to leave only alien vessels in the actual mission.

What's that?

Spartan's secpad activated, and he lifted it to find a message from the captain of the ship. It was short and simply stated there was a violent incident occurring on the Jötnar deck.

What's going on?

Spartan increased his pace and made his way past the last few sections to reach this larger part of the ship. The Jötnar quarter was specially chosen for them, as it was by far the largest part suitable for habitation. Whereas the other sections had been loaded with prefabricated barrack blocks, this one was actually still in its original form. The taller ceilings gave the Jötnar space to move around and to train without fear of damage to the ship. Even the shortest of them was around two and a half metres, many reaching just over three metres. The variance was a consequence of the large amount of genetic material used in their creation.

Spartan approached the pair of Blood Pack guards, neither of which moved aside for him, even though he was both the senior commander of the IAB present and senior officer of the entire operation.

"Move it, now."

One of the Jötnar looked to the other and then back to Spartan.

"We don't take orders from Humans."

A loud crashing sound came from inside the area being used by the Jötnar, and then the smashing of something that sounded expensive. Spartan nodded.

"You don't say. Now... I want..."

"Wait here," said the Jötnar, completely ignoring Spartan.

The Jötnar moved back and struck the door. Without a sound the door swung open, and another Jötnar looked out. As with the other two, Spartan didn't recognise him.

"What?"

Spartan shook his head and took a step towards the doorway. The guards closed ranks, easily blocking his path with their torsos. Though members of the Blood Pack, they were only partially armoured; just their chests and joints covered in the custom plate armour. Shouting burst out through the gap in the door, the same he would expect in a brawl or skirmish.

"No, you wait here."

Spartan has been patient enough and took one more step so that he was now only a metre from the massive pair.

"I am the commander of this operation, and you will move out of my way...or suffer the consequences."

The first Jötnar that had done all the talking so far began to chuckle.

"I don't care if you're Ko'mandor Gun himself. Nobody interrupts the Blood Pack until you've been..."

That was the moment Spartan struck hard into the creature's flank. It was a low blow under the ribs and hit with force. He then pushed up his left arm and stepped past the guard, wrapping his leg around the lower part of the Jötnar's left leg. He spun about and embedded his foot in the back of the warrior's leg. The shock of the attack threw the guard off balance, and he staggered forwards, before recovering and then roaring with anger.

Spartan turned to the second and punched four times in quick succession before stepping around him, like a boxer moving to avoid a blow.

"Next time..."

Again he struck, this time low into the stomach and rib. His artificial arm gave him extra power for the strike, his overall strength allowing him to hit significantly harder than any of them expected. They turned around and lowered their arms, this time ready for an actual fight. The first stepped closer, and Spartan ducked low and jabbed into his armpit, frustrating him more. At that point the door swung open, and out came Olik.

"Enough!"

 The two Jötnar hesitated, and Spartan took that opportunity to run at the shorter of the two and jump up, kicking hard at the upper leg. He gained a short boost that brought him to head height and struck a powerful hook that connected with the warrior's noise. Blood splattered left and right as he landed back on his feet.

"Next time, what?"

Spartan exhaled, having barely expended any energy yet; the two Jötnar clenched their fists and prepared to come for him. Olik moved out from the doorway and blocked the path to Spartan, shielding him with his own body.

"Enough I said! This is Spartan, and if one of you even thinks of doing this again, you'll be the prey back on Hyperion."

The taller of the two stopped, exhaled twice, and then lowered his head. Hyperion was a jungle world on the periphery of the Alliance and the only planet fully populated by Jötnar. The great forests were still filled with large numbers of creatures constructed by the Biomechs and now hunted by the Jötnar for sport and training.

"Apologies, Spartan. We thought you were..."

Spartan snapped back, giving him no time to apologise.

"Don't waste your words. You will guard this section professionally, or not at all. This is no place for mindless thugs. Do you want a war with humanity? Because listen to me, there are more people back there who want nothing more than to lock every Jötnar in a cave to rot. You are dishonouring the memory of your ancestors."

The second Jötnar lifted his arm out and across his chest, and then also bowed before Spartan. This time neither of them spoke, so Spartan turned back to Olik.

"I thought this Blood Pack of Wictred's was professional? If they can't control themselves, they can go right back where we found them."

With that, he stepped inside and past the small groups of Jötnar. The commotion outside had garnered the interest of very few of them. The place smelt musty and reminded him of the barracks on board the Confederate Assault ships in the war. This space was big enough to house an entire battalion of regular infantry, but on this ship it was used to house twelve squads of Jötnar, a full one hundred and twenty warriors plus their commanders. The smell of oil, burnt metal, and the bodies of so many warriors was far from pleasant.

"About damned time."

He looked inside and at once felt a little relieved. The sound was coming from several training machines the Jötnar had erected. Using spare sections of armour they had connected the components to motors, giving themselves a dummy to attack. Another similar machine lay shattered and in pieces off to the side. A pair of Jötnar attacked the thing with metal clubs, while others used it to strike back. Two Jötnar lay on the ground, rubbing their heads, and blood dripped to the metal flooring.

This is no riot. It's just a few Jötnar letting off some steam.

It was easy to see it as something else, but few had experienced as much of the Jötnar culture as Spartan had. They were a tough, hardy people, with little interest outside of combat or the design and construction of weapons. He moved away from the door and made a note of what was happening in there. The Jötnar were all busy, that much was obvious. Some were sparring, others testing their gear or using their own tools to tweak or improve it. Off at the far end was a small group of five or six of them.

That's where he's been.

Khan looked up as he approached, and Spartan could see the calmness of his friend. There were marks on his arms that looked like he'd been fighting, or perhaps restrained. Spartan even considered it could also have been a combination of the two. He didn't stop and moved right up before bringing his arm down hard on Khan's. It had been more than a day since the two had spoken. Khan had wanted time to think, but as far as Spartan was concerned, that time was over.

"Khan, my friend. I need you for this mission. Are you ready?"

Khan's mouth twitched.

"I'm always ready, Spartan. Has the mission changed?"

Spartan nodded slowly.

"Just a little. The battle has turned, and not for the better. Are you ready for a war?"

Khan didn't speak. He didn't even answer; he just grinned. Spartan knew exactly what this meant and stepped to his side, turning so both were facing the rest of the large open space. Few of the Jötnar noticed what was happening until Spartan called out to them.

"I'm sure you all know my background. I am Spartan, and it was me who first met and fought alongside your people. A long time ago I formed an alliance with Gun, your leader."

The mention of Gun seemed to have an almost calming effect on them.

"At that point, we formed a bond that is as strong today as it was then. I have protected Gun in a hundred battles, and he has done the same for me."

Spartan pointed towards the door.

"Out there is a tyranny, one that is bigger and more dangerous to all of us than even the machines of the Biomechs. They are a people poised for war, one our own people are unready for. The clans of the Anicinàbe are like a group of primates trying to build up the courage to take on a beast. If the Tenth Quadrant falls, they will be unstoppable. Expect the Byotai to take the brunt of the attack, and then we will follow. It is a war we will lose."

The Jötnar seemed stunned at that news. Spartan was a legendary figure on almost every colonised world, and yet his words suggested defeatism that was completely at odds with his reputation.

"We cannot stop the tide of the Anicinàbe, but we can make them pay such a price that they either halt the attacks, or we buy enough time to persuade the Alliance and the Byotai Empire to fully commit to the region's defence. Alliance Intelligence believes the Anicinàbe will back down after a major show of force."

He moved his head from left to right, looking into the eyes of every single one of them.

"I call upon the blood debt every one of you owes me, and I owe you."

It was a strange thing to say, but it caught the ears of the handful still refusing to give him their attention.

"I saved your brothers and sisters at Euryale, and it is because of me your people have a home amongst the colonies of the Alliance. Gun has a personal bond with me back from his awakening on Prometheus. Since that day, he swore that his kin would always follow my lead, wherever it took me."

He looked to Khan who said nothing, but his expression already confirmed he was satisfied with what Spartan had to say. Spartan took that as the cue to continue.

"Your brothers have died on Karnak, their bodies desecrated by the soldiers of the Red Scars."

He paused, giving them a moment to think about what they already knew.

"We've all seen the footage, and I know exactly how you feel."

One of the Jötnar shouted loudly in disagreement with Spartan. Another quickly shouted him down. Olik moved from the shadows to stand alongside Spartan and Khan. He wore the same armour as the rest of them, and might just as easily have been another rank and file Blood Pack soldier.

"It is true," said Olik, "Spartan has fought and bled with us in a hundred battles. He has lost as much as any one of us. Any that stands against Spartan, stands against us."

Spartan gave Olik a signal, subtly thanking him.

"In six hours we enter the Rift to the Byotai Empire, and from there we travel to Karnak and to battle. We will return Tenskwatawa and his Exiles to their territory, one they occupied before being kicked out by the Red Scars and their allies. They might be considered lower class citizens than pure-blood Byotai, but that doesn't change the facts. They are our allies, and we will help them do their job."

Spartan rubbed at his beard and caught Khan's eye as he spoke again.

"Wictred and your brothers are gone, brutalised by the Anicinàbe. There is a name though, one that you must always remember. Nakoma."

A few of them muttered her name.

"As chief, she is the one pulling the strings on Karnak, and she took Wictred's life. The Alliance may not intervene while the region is disputed; they want to avoid a war with the Anicinàbe. They will not take decisive action on Karnak, and so our friends and our kin pay the price."

He could see agreement spreading through the group.

"Our mission was to assist General Makos wherever we could, to keep his forces in the fight until help comes. Specifically, it is our job to stop the Anicinàbe from making further gains on Karnak."

Spartan shook his head angrily.

"I say, no chance! We are not going to do that, not anymore!"

The assembled Jötnar were silent, stunned by his change of heart.

"We will do much more than watch the Anicinàbe. We will land on Karnak and bleed the enemy. We will inflict such losses on them they will regret ever having heard the name Jötnar. Together we will make the fight untenable and either force the Alliance and the Byotai to help us, or win the battle on our own."

Khan stepped forward and lifted Spartan's right arm while calling out to his kin.

"I'm up for a fight, and our brothers require vengeance. Are you with us?"

Spartan listened to the roar of one hundred and twenty Jötnar. There was nothing quite like the sound these giants made; he also felt pity for whoever would be facing them. All of that quickly vanished as he remembered he still had no major strategy for defeating the enemy. He leaned in towards Khan.

"Meet me in one hour in the war room. We have a campaign to plan."

"What about the half-bloods?"

The way he said the name of the Exiles surprised Spartan. Half-bloods was a term most of them tried to avoid, even if many of the Exiles used it themselves. There might be thousands of them on the ships, but they were quiet and did their best to remain discreet, undoubtedly a trait picked up since losing everything in the fighting.

"We're here for all of them, no matter their blood status. Tenskwatawa and his officers will be joining us."

Khan lowered his head a fraction in compliance.

"Khan, information is sketchy on Karnak. One thing I think we can both agree on is that we need a base to operate from. Let's figure that one out first."

Khan seemed to cheer up at that and looked to Olik, who was clearly preoccupied with his own thoughts.

"Well?"

Olik spotted him and beamed with pleasure.

"There's only one region under the control of the Byotai. We need to secure it fast before we can even think about an offensive."

Spartan and Khan spoke at the same time.

"Melantias."

CHAPTER EIGHT

373CC marked the introduction of the revised command structure of the Alliance military, and the creation of the first three Unified Combatant Commands, each one based around the three principal divisions of the Alliance; and included a senior command staff, a dedicated fleet, and a number of attached ground units. They were designed to simplify the command structure and logistics for each of the large areas now governed and protected by Alliance armed forces, making them more self-sufficient and flexible.

Central Command covered all of the old territory of the Confederacy and was based at Terra Nova. This command included the local star systems of Alpha Centauri and Proxima Centauri. As the most valuable region, Central command contained as many military assets as the Colonial and Orion Commands combined.

Colonial Command was based at Mars and included the substantially less populated star systems of Sol, Epsilon Eridani, Procyon, and Gliese 876.

Orion Command was based at the Admiral Jarvis Naval Station in T'Karan, and included all Alliance territory in the Orion Nebula, around the Helion Nexus. This included all of the old worlds of the Helion League as well as the conquered Biomech system of Taxxu.

Title 10, Alliance Code Sections 161–168

Fortress of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

5 Days Later

Governor Nak Sekieki reached the halfway point of the stone steps of the defences and clambered over a small heap of rubble. The staircase was as old as the outer wall and in just as bad state. Holes the size of his foot dotted the structure, and only a recently installed metal handrail provided any protection from the long fall. He took up a position on the flat parapet, paused to regain his breath, and pushed himself on to finish the climb. With each step he thought back to the latest reports coming in from the last enclaves on Karnak.

A week ago we were looking like we might hold. Now Kras does this, the insane fool. He's lost my supplies, and without warriors, Caldos has fallen without a fight.

The reconnaissance imagery from a Khreenk scouting party angered him the most. The small, but heavily reinforced Caldos enclave that had caused the Anicinàbe so much trouble; now the survivors were out in the open plain, streaming North, and hotly pursued by the clans.

Nakoma will enjoy every kill she can make.

Governor Nak Sekieki took enough steps and then stopped to recover. His left leg groaned, and he could feel the bones grinding as he stepped. He was an old Byotai, and from one of the noble families of the Trinity, making him equally valued as he was also an Elder. There were, of course, no family names amongst the Byotai, but a few bore honorific titles for those distant few that had achieved greatness. Those with titles could continue them on through generations, creating a patrician caste at the heart of the Empire. Nak's own name signified that in the past his ancestors were riders of the ancient beasts from Sovax.

Few on Karnak considered the name to refer to actual history, and to many something pompous and almost vulgar to use, but not for Nak. He regarded his heritage as more than just a story or plaything. The stories of the ancient riders of the Sekieki had been passed down through his family and gave him the authority needed to lead, even this far from his homeworld. Whatever Governor Nak Sekieki lacked in martial skill or knowledge, he made up for in the belief that he was born to lead Byotai in battle, as his ancestors had before him. And those around him recognised the noble lineage that ran through his blood, and accepted him as such.

In the background he could hear the never-ending sound of Byotai workers and engineers slaving away on the defences. Melantias was one of the three great settlements buried deep inside the rocky hills surrounding the mining pit of Consta. Even the mine was protected from the elements, dug directly below the extinct volcano of the same name. This was one of the deepest mines ever constructed and conveniently protected by the vast rocky structure that lay above. The Byotai mined deep underground for generations, and the entire region was now a warren of tunnels that led kilometres in all directions. This great engineering project was to mine and harvest the natural wealth of Karnak, a substance with similar properties to Nanocrystalline Cellulose being developed in the Alliance. This material was known colloquially as Nanocrystals, and a single kilogram of the raw material was worth a year's wages for the Byotai.

This unique material had its origins in the distant past where the worlds had been covered in dense woodland, prior to the great scouring. The unusual planetary chemistry effectively ground the substance to a pulp and hydrolysed in many of the large underground acidic pools. It was a strange and complex procedure and took millennia, but the end result was a vast source of crystals that could be harvested as a paste. The resulting material could be applied to surfaces or processed into strands, creating advanced Nanofibrils that were incredibly hard, dense, and tough. So far, nothing had been synthesised to match the strength of this naturally occurring material, and it could be used in a hundred applications from electronics and computing through to ship hulls and personal body armour. It was considered to be the most useful single material known to exist.

The Melantias settlement was not the largest of the three, but it was the first. It had grown to such a size it could house over fifty thousand settlers. The war saw that number drop to little over ten thousand, the rest having fled back to the Empire, or now captured and put to work in the many camps in the Depression, thousands of kilometres to the South. Now the Melantias settlement was much more than a refuge, it was the only fortification still standing and occupied by substantial numbers of Byotai on Karnak.

A single Byotai soldier looked down at Governor Nak and extended a hand. The steps were steep, and Nak was an old soldier, hardly suited to the rigours of so much exercise. The younger individual helped him past a series of thick cables that ran across the open space at the top of the steps.

"Engineer Soltak. How much longer? The enemy is not far from us now, and I can still see breaches along my defensive line. Our air defences are strong, but only the wall can protect us from a sustained ground assault."

The Byotai soldier wore little armour, and instead carried multiple utility belts filled with measuring devices and tools. His hard outer skin was rough and worn down from constant labour. He was thinner and much stronger than his superior.

"I need another month, ideally two. The walls are impressive but have not been maintained in years. The damage to the structure is unparalleled. Where the structure is intact, I had teams apply the refined Nanocrystal paste. It takes just over a day to fully cure."

Governor Nak Sekieki opened his mouth and emitted an odd snorting sound. Soltak knew he was far from happy, rubbing his shoulder as he tried to argue his case. His skin was beginning to turn a lighter shade, the traditional sign that a Byotai was soon to shed, and also something that occurred when under great or unexpected stresses.

"These walls are part of our heritage. For centuries we have dug deep, creating entire cities underground and showing our engineering skill to be exemplary. This wall is the greatest defence against the elements we have ever built."

The chief engineer tried to speak, but Nak kept speaking as though he was giving a speech to a large crowd.

"Diverting the Nanocrystals to our own defences will give us the advantage we need. Even a thin layer that is given time to cure will make the wall impervious to all but the heaviest bombardment."

He noticed Soltak was resting his forehead in his left hand.

"You do not believe me. Are you telling me they cannot beat back the attacks of primitive Anicinàbe soldiers?"

The engineer looked surprised at the question.

"Primitive they might be, but they control most of Karnak, not us. They have numbers and weapons on their side. If they knew how weak we were, they would attack us today."

His tone softened at seeing the hurt on his face.

"This is not Caldos. These walls were never designed to be used in battle. Our ancestors constructed the wall as a barrier against the dust storms that can remove entire cities in days. The Nanocrystal layer will not be complete until the breaches are repaired."

He looked back and pointed at the scores of domes marking the upper floors of the structures buried underground. The settlements were vast, but only the very tips pushed out from the rock, much like the tips of icebergs on a frozen ice world. What was originally constructed on the surface had long been partially abandoned due to the risk of attack by the enemy.

"The changes suggested by General Daniels of the Alliance are..."

Governor Nak hissed in reply.

"Are what, exactly? General Daniels is an expert in military strategy and siege warfare."

"Yes, I know. But these defences are still incomplete and far greater than we can ever man in battle. I have teams working on fifty-seven sections of the walls, but they are still nearly six kilometres in length."

Governor Nak reached the top of the outer wall and moved to the edge to peer out through the narrow horizontal slit. His head was protected by the slab like roof that merged in places with parts of the mountains. From this position he had a perfect view of the open plains to the South.

"Our ancestors first build the Southern wall as a defence against the storms. It has held off the elements for generations, but never a frontal attack by an aggressor. The breaches must be filled."

He turned back and looked at his chief engineer.

"The two Northern settlements are protected by the mountains and our siege defences. With most underground, it will not be easy to cause major damage. The entry points to all three settlements are beyond the wall and inside the great blast doors. Any attack would be futile there, but not here. This wall is all that stands between us and the warriors of Nakoma."

His long tongue popped out and ran along his mouth.

"The Red Scars have already overrun our positions in the South, with most of our people enslaved. Khagi is lost, and all that remains are the wasteland settlements and us."

He blinked and sniffed at the air. Like all of his people, Nak had an incredibly sensitive sense of smell. He could detect the position of Byotai up to nearly a hundred metres away, even in a place filled with such a variety of unusual aromas.

"We have to hold this wall or Karnak is lost. Kras has seen to that. The defences are only as strong as the weakest links. Keep at it, my friend, help is coming."

He turned back and blinked, sure that he'd spotted something. For months they had held this position, but never had the clans actually attempted a concerted assault on the settlements. Now he suspected anything was possible.

"Help?"

The governor looked particularly pleased.

"Indeed. We still have friends."

As he said the last word, his expression transformed from friendliness to something very different. His forehead tightened, and his cheek muscles became taut. He then nodded off into the distance.

"The weather stations to the South. Do my eyes deceive me...or are they burning?"

His voice changed to a shrill growl as he panned from left to right, pointing out the smoke columns rising up from two different locations. Engineer Soltak climbed up alongside him, and then used the communications unit on his arm to reach the small garrison at the station. They were a series of six small, single storey buildings nearly twenty kilometres away and spread out in a line five kilometres apart. In the past they had housed a handful of civilians whose job was to monitor the open plains for storms. Satellites overhead provided long-term information, but the storms could appear in plains in a matter of hours. Now they provided a layer of security for the settlements around the mining pit of Consta with a single three-man team placed at each.

Engineer Soltak activated the magnification on the drop-down lens over his left eye. It was optically stabilised and provided a useful magnification of up to eight times normal vision.

"Yes, I think you're right. One is burning. I can see a vehicle heading back from the second station..."

He tensed as he tried to focus on what he was seeing. The stabilisation made it easier, but with the dust and distances involved, he was still forced to squint to get the best possible image. He then looked back.

"It's impossible."

Governor Nak opened his eyes wider in a questioning look.

"What is impossible?"

The engineer pointed off to the South.

"The weather stations are under attack."

Governor Nak looked off into the distance and then to their defences. Work teams were busy on both sides, with scores of individuals clambering over the many breaches and damaged sections. A number of gantries were suspended down on metal cables, and teams of Byotai placed thin layers of the refined Nanocrystals to the outer skin. The crystalline paste gave off a pale shimmer, as though a layer of thick varnish had been added to the defences.

"I knew this day would come. We left it too late to prepare the defences, and now we are unready."

He lifted his arm and activated his communication unit.

"This is Nak Sekieki. Send the alarm. The enemy is here. All units to combat positions."

Even as he spoke, he noticed the odd expression on the engineers' face. He moved along the wall and kept looking out through the narrow slit at the sky.

"What is it?" Nak asked.

"There!"

Engineer Soltak pointed up into the sky as a group of six dark shapes appeared. They moved in such a way that they could only be artificial. The objects circled over the line of weather stations just as a dozen flashes rippled along the horizon, some of these followed by yellow and white flashes. Seconds later came the low thuds of explosions and the staccato clatter of heavy weapons fire.

"Not good."

A few pitiful bright lines marked where the defenders did their best, but it was too little, too late. In less than twenty seconds the perimeter defences were gone, and the settlements around Consta now vulnerable. Nak continued issuing orders via his communications gear as he watched the dots in the distance.

"...I don't care what state they are in. Pull them back, all of them. Get them behind the wall immediately. Activate perimeter defences and release the air defences.... Yes...get everybody else to the shelters, now!"

More shapes joined the aircraft and increased the number of objects in the sky into double figures. It took until the second bombing run before the air raid alarms sounded out from deep inside the settlement. Governor Nak watched the fall of the weather stations while dozens of Byotai teams moved to their prepared positions along the wall. At the same time civilians scattered in the open moved to the Great Blast Doors and the protection offered by the vast underground facilities. A squad of five Byotai appeared from a section one level down and moved up the steps until reaching the top. They then reached to the parapet where they would be protected by the narrow sloped roof and thick wall. Nak nodded with satisfaction as they positioned their auto-tracking cannon on the wall.

Good, that's more like it.

With a fortified wall this long, it was almost impossible to see where it ended, but he could still make out dozens of small groups of his comrades racing to their positions. The wall might be unfinished, but the combat drills were at least a success. There was little confusion, and in less than a minute the wall manned and bristling with weapons. Further down and amongst the settlement was a very different story. There were few soldiers in this region, and many of them panicked as they struggled to reach the designated safe zones. Governor Nak only hoped the rest of his volunteer warriors were doing their part to make the place safe. This was made much more difficult as it followed the natural shape of the hill to create a curved bulge out to the South of the Consta mining pit.

I need more soldiers, a lot more soldiers. Where in the name of the ancient fire pits are this Spartan and his mercenaries?

"Governor!"

Both Byotai looked back from the wall. Rushing up the steps was a single unit of six Byotai, all wearing improvised armour and carrying rifles on their shoulders. Tarnas, the leader of the group extended his left arm and pointed up at the wall.

"It's an air attack, Sir. We need to get you to..."

Their voices were drowned out by the initial bombardment against the walls. From this position it was impossible to see the attackers, but the impact was immediate, and where the outer surface was incomplete the missile blasted right through. The thinner parts of the wall were still six metres wide, but hardened tip ground penetrating missiles could still cause massive damage. Governor Nak shook his head and moved along the wall to one of the sections that jutted out and provided a perfect flanking position from which to target attackers at the wall.

"There is no time, to the seventh tower."

The bodyguard clambered up the last steps while missiles and bombs crashed against the wall. The majority failed to break through, but for every ten that struck, one would find a weak point. Engineer Soltak changed position to join them but vanished as a missile rippled through a crack in the wall. It opened up a hole large enough to drive an armoured crawler through. Nak increased his pace as fast as he could manage on his old legs, and weighed down by his heavily improvised body armour.

Indiscriminate bombardment against civilians, does Nakoma have no honour?

Governor Nak paused long enough to see his comrade blasted from the ledge and hanging from the edge for dear life.

"Governor, we cannot wait," Tarnas yelled.

The bodyguard closed with him, but he barged them out of the way and rushed back. There was little time left, but incredibly he managed to slide along the floor and almost went over the edge himself. Luckily, some of the ribbing on the armour dug into the deep marks and lacerations in the rock, slowing him at the last moment. He grabbed the unfortunate soul's arm, as he was about to lose his grip. Both were left in a precarious position while missiles and bombs continued to fall around the compound.

"Help us!"

Governor Nak's bodyguard rushed back to help right at the moment another volley of attacks came in. Now the gunfire from the wall was overwhelming. A mixture of kinetic firearms and direct-energy cannons blasted at the aircraft, as they ran along the wall doing their best to open up new breaches in the wall. Tarnas bent down and leaned out to the two hanging from the ledge; his comrades moved closer to assist. It didn't take long to pull them both from the ledge, and as Nak returned to his feet, he looked back from the wall to the many domes and abandoned buildings of the three settlements. Smoke rose in a dozen places, and one of the larger domes burned furiously.

"Stay down!"

Another much larger bomb came down nearby and burst at a height of a hundred metres. There was no explosion, and instead of flame or shockwave little more than a hiss. This was followed by the expulsion of a great cloud of petroleum vapour. It was light and floated over the settlement like a thin layer of fog. Some below began to scream as the pungent fuel touched their flesh and clothing.

"What is this new madness?" asked one of the guards.

Governor Nak already knew what was about to happen and called out to those below. There was nothing he could do, though, and when the tiny flash at the centre cloud came, he lifted his hands to his face. The entire cloud flashed yellow. When the flames resided, dozens of the damaged buildings were alight, and scores of settlers ran about screaming, their clothes burnt off and their flesh burning. It was a horrific weapon, one that none of them would have ever considered using, even in this violent struggle. Engineer Soltak screamed with rage at what he could see, his mind clearly beginning to crack. He said something, but more bombs impacted on both sides of the defensive wall so that only the last few words could be heard.

"...animals, this is terrorism, not war. We have to hit back!"

He staggered back, as though expecting to see an enemy he could attack or kill.

"When our citizens in the Empire see this, there will be war! A holy war!"

He moved his hand down to his flank, checking his weapons were still there. Engineer Soltak's face betrayed his anger, and one of the bodyguards was forced to grab him, to stop the unfortunate soul from stumbling off the ledge. He looked at the guard, his eyes wide and bitter.

"If they want terror, I'll show them the true meaning of the word."

Another bomb missed the wall, and this time crashed down directly onto a vehicle compound. The thin shelter collapsed, and a pair of transport crawlers exploded, killing a number of civilians running past. The air screamed from the sounds of more falling bombs and rockets; the defenders’ gunfire seemed almost paltry in comparison.

"Behind us!" Tarnas shouted.

Two of the armoured Byotai closed ranks around their leader as three Hornets screamed overhead. From the open flanks were multiple clan warriors, and they blasted at soldier and civilian alike. Projectiles slammed into the wall around them, and one guard was hit in the face, killing him instantly. Another took a round to the neck, but the metal gorget plating protected him. The survivors moved as quickly as they could to the protection offered by the tower. Bullets struck the stone and metal plating as they spread out, making sure they were away from any vision slits or holes. Governor Nak proceeded to issue orders to try and stabilise the defences.

Three Hornets made the mistake of hovering directly over the wall so that their passengers could get a clear view of the few civilians still above ground. The mistake cost them dearly, as the multiple surface-to-air missile sites positioned throughout the settlements immediately targeted them. These weapon systems were all populated with radar and heat tracking missiles supplied through third parties, and financed by the Alliance. The first aircraft took two missiles in the underside and exploded, sending fragments out to the wall and down onto the already burning settlement.

"Beautiful," said the Governor.

More missiles rushed up, and the other two aircraft slunk away with smoke pouring from their damage. The air battle over the Stone Teeth Hills was well under way, both sides unleashing large numbers of missiles at each other. Dozens of Anicinàbe Hornets took advantage of the defenders lack of preparation and began to hover in front of the wall, away from the gun sights of the hidden missile system. They were able to drop small teams of warriors as they passed by. The clan warriors used their jet-assisted packs to brake their descent and came down on both sides of the wall. Some even managed to land on the fighting position along the wall by sweeping in from behind.

Two warriors landed on the open space behind the tower, at the top where Governor Nak and his entourage watched the fight. They hit one of the guards with carbines before the Byotai returned fire and cut them down in a hail of small arms fire. Governor Nak fired through one of the slits and sent a pair of clan warriors scurrying for safety. He activated his communications, speaking to all of his sub commanders.

"Stand firm, do not let them in. The enemy must be driven back. This is an attack of opportunity, nothing more. Hold the defences and fight!"

Nak moved to the left side of the tower and looked down at more than thirty clan warriors that had landed out in the open. Sporadic fire from the next tower was striking down at those on the ground. The clan warriors were clearly experienced, moving close to the wall so that none of the others could depress their weapons sufficiently without leaving themselves exposed.

"Grapples," said Tarnas, "This is not good."

Dozens of lines fired up from the ground and embedded in the tops of the walls. Seconds later the warriors began climbing up the tall, slightly curved gradient.

"Governor, look!"

Governor Nak's stomach churned as he looked up at the shapes coming down from above. Unlike the Hornets, these aircraft were coming down from the sky. The large, dark shapes of heavy Byotai transports were directly above the facility and beginning their planetary descent. For the first time that day, Nak smiled.

Spartan!

* * *

In Orbit over Karnak, Tenth Quadrant

General Makos' victory at Medamud had done much more than just defeat the Anicinàbe Grand Fleet. By crushing the bulk of their forces, he had reopened several shipping lanes between the six inhabited worlds, and even to clear a safe corridor back to the Byotai Spacebridge. This Rift in space-time was a permanent feature and allowed ships to travel from the Empire to the Quadrant, all without moving.

Though it was possible to now travel, the defeat at Medamud did little to quell the attacks by small groups of raiders that still persisted, even for all the efforts of the Byotai to stop them. The Anicinàbe were well known for their small group tactics, and with the Tenth Quadrant filled with moons and the debris from so many previous battles, it was the perfect place to launch surprise attacks. Much of the sector had been heavily mined, and with the Alliance escort long gone, the protection of the Exile Fleet was transferred to the few Byotai warships that General Makos could spare. Their role included much more than protecting the civilians from attack. They also needed to clear routes through space that kept them well away from the myriad of dangers and traps left by the Anicinàbe.

The Byotai flagship Hellstorm, as well as the rest of the major ships of the line, was now off fighting squadrons of Anicinàbe throughout the Quadrant. Though the most significant of all the worlds, Karnak was still only one of the six inhabited planets in the conflict, and with as many settlers as Karnak spread out on the desolate worlds, it left the fleet only lightly protected. Fighting on the remaining five planets had intensified over the last few days, and three transports forced back when trying to take food aid to the beleaguered settlers. The Anicinàbe knew help was coming to Karnak and so had seized the opportunity to initiate dozens of diversionary attacks.

Just four Byotai warships provided fleet protection, the rest coming from a dozen private contracted vessels, each no larger than an Alliance frigate, and much less well armed. All of these had now taken the vanguard position in orbit. None of them were designed for atmospheric flight, and the descent through the atmosphere would surely destroy them even if they attempted any form of landing. A small number of ships could provide some level of protection, but a planet was a vast area to guard, and there were deactivated, ice-cold Anicinàbe raiding vessels hidden throughout the area.

The long column of civilian ships had already been hit twice upon arrival. The largest attack actually came from a captured Byotai transport that tried to ram one of the troop carriers. Four mercenary fighters managed to disable the ship, and Byotai soldiers were still on board fighting the Anicinàbe crew. Apart from other minor losses among the escort, the transports had managed to make it through.

Now above Karnak, the civilian ships had already altered their position to reduce speed and were entering the very tip of the planet's atmosphere. It took nearly half an hour to reach this point, but now they were on a descent course from which there was little chance of recovery. At this position they moved their noses down roughly forty degrees, the point where the heat insulating material could protect the rest of the ship. These ships had all been chosen for their bulk haulage capability, as well as the ability to land on a planet's surface. Columns of smoke began to build behind each of them as they moved deeper into the atmosphere and the friction increased the surface temperature to almost two thousand degrees Kelvin.

The black column of smoke and blazing fires in the sky marked the passage of the group of transports. No missiles rushed up to meet them, and they were soon over the Northern most regions of the planet, following an oval pattern to reduce their airspeed. From the ground it was impossible to still see the ships, and the fires gave the impression of a series of falling stars. The long wait was over, and after months of fighting, transports were once more in the skies over Karnak.

The Exiles had returned.

* * *

Byotai Armoured Troop Transport 'Kraken', Karnak

The interior of the ship had been transformed during the last twelve hours and every piece of non-essential equipment stowed. What had previously been a barracks room was now a deployment area, with hundreds of warriors waiting for battle. Brackets and clamps were erected to hold them into place while the transport continued it bumpy journey through the atmosphere of Karnak.

Spartan walked in front of the lines of warriors, with Syala, Arana, and Khan walking behind him. The sisters wore their standard armour, while Spartan made use of unmarked IAB prototype equipment. If this same gear had been issued to a hundred marines it would have been obvious, but for just Spartan it made little difference. It was a variant of the M-3B Armour he had also used so effectively before on Karnak. Khan wore a set of armour brought specially by the Blood Pack for his use. The dull iron looked similar to that used by the Exiles and was covered in articulated sections. A mount on the side cradled one of their customised triple-barrelled L48 rifles.

A loud thud shook the ship, and for a second Spartan thought they had been hit. No internal warnings sounded, though, and they continued on their exact same course. Had he seen outside, he might have changed his mind as a single pair of Anicinàbe fighters did their best to shoot down the approaching transports. At their current height and speed, they were simply moving too quickly for the Anicinàbe.

Spartan found his footing a little unsteady, and at one point needed to grab onto one of the Exiles to reach his place in the sealed doorway. Once in position, he waited while a crewmember finished attaching the clamps. At his flank was Kanjana, and with every step inside the compartment, he could tell she was uncomfortable. Since meeting with Khan there was a veritable cloud hanging over the Jötnar warriors of the ship. It was not the loss of Wictred that had caused the trouble; it was the growing resentment towards both the Byotai and the Anicinàbe.

"I don't like this," said Spartan.

He voice was low and barely perceptible even to Kanjana. She glanced off to the right where a group of the Exiles waited in silence. It was hard to make them all out, but as before, their different sizes made them look rather peculiar. They had made a single change since she'd last seen them. Every single one had painted whatever armour they carried on their shoulders black. This one feature gave them a unifying look and made up for the vast differences in equipment carried by each one.

"Three minutes from landing. Prepare for disembarkation."

The internal speakers of the transport were large affairs and spaced out at regular intervals through the ship. As the sound died away, Spartan could just make out the distant echo of the others spreading the word through the sections of the ship.

Finally we have an army.

"Fighters released, Operation Fury is a go."

Spartan activated the external video feed for a moment so he could see what was happening. The outer storage bins of the transports carried a mixed assortment of mercenary fighters, and they were now being launched. These were not the advanced, and elegant designs of the Alliance, but an assortment, some dating back nearly a hundred years. They were all stripped of paint to bare metal, with all details painted on in black, just the same as the shoulder plates of the Exile soldiers.

So it begins.

The fighters peeled off from the transports and rushed down to attack the small numbers of Anicinàbe aircraft. A quick glance showed there were eleven Hornets still in the air, with sixteen Exile fighters bearing down on them. He waited until the first missiles were exchanged before looking away, now satisfied they had the necessary air cover to land.

Spartan twisted his head and deactivated the front plate on his head. It moved up and exposed his face. The actuators were near silent, and if not for the subtle green light that blinked when open, he might think the unit was still functioning.

 "Khan."

The Jötnar looked back and nodded. His face was grim. Spartan knew he was looking forward to the bloodlust only battle could provide, and after seeing what had happened to their kin, the Jötnar would be looking for more than causing just a few casualties.

They want payback this time, serious payback.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to hold the Pack back. Do not let them go on the rampage...not until I give the order, understood?"

Khan lifted the right side of his mouth, showing just one tooth. It wasn't much of a response, but it was enough. Spartan knew Khan had a score to settle, but he wasn't stupid, and knew what would happen if he let his emotions get the better of him. Spartan looked out to the rest of the warriors.

"We are going in hot, and the enemy still has combat units in the area. So don't dawdle!"

Spartan licked his upper lip.

"When we hit the ground, you get out fast. Stay with your unit commanders and get yourselves inside the facility. I don't want the transports on the ground a second longer than necessary. Understood?"

A loud grunt rumbled through the section. It was much more muted than Spartan might have expected, especially when over a hundred members of the infamous Blood Pack were in there. He'd given the same short speech to all the combat units, yet this was the one that confused him the most. He looked to his comrades.

"Is it me, or are they more subdued that normal?"

The twin sisters shrugged, but Kanjana seemed as concerned as him.

"There are rumours that some of the Blood Pack blame the Byotai. Kras was incompetent, and they see little different in this Governor Nak."

She leaned in close so only the small group could hear. Khan noticed what they were doing and scowled as they spoke.

"Be careful, Spartan. They have no loyalty to anybody here, other than Khan. You know the attitude towards them this far from home. They have as many enemies here as..."

"I do?"

They shared a look, but Kanjana decided to say nothing. It was no secret that Spartan was liked and loathed in equal measure outside of the Alliance. To many he was the man that had been the puppet of the Biomechs, and one that happily sacrificed ships, soldiers, and entire worlds to win a war. Just as many believed he’d never been the hero the Alliance made him out to be, and that he had joined the enemy, only to switch sides when they appeared to be losing.

What's going on here?

He looked away from the warrior and back to her.

"Kanjana, stay close during the landing. This could get messy, and I'll need you to help with the Exiles. I doubt all of the Byotai will be quite so keen to see them return."

CHAPTER NINE

ANS Relentless was a state-of-the-art armoured assault ship completed only three weeks after the outbreak of the Great Uprising, too late to play her part in the fighting. Her thick armour marks her out as one of the last of the heavily armoured ships built prior to the Biomech War. In subsequent years she was refitted four times until finally recommissioned as an escort carrier, and equipped with the latest artificial gravity generators and new engines. Though using similar technology to the new Crusader cruisers, she retained her role and became one of the many convoy escorts in the Great Biomech War. Her name might have faded from memory, had it not been for heroic defence of sixteen Helion transports in the supply run for Spascia. This valiant action saved the convoy, as well as thousands of lives, but for the loss of all her fighters and most of her crew. Since then, her crippled hull has been repaired, and though retired from front-line duty, she is still used as a recruit training ship for fighter pilots. Her hangars are now filled with the latest X47and X49B drones, as well as a handful of older models for pilot training.

Metcalf's History of Fighting Ships

Fortress of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

Spartan closed his eyes and did his best to clear his mind as the ship blasted through the upper atmosphere. The heat was incredible, but with the thermal plating on the transport, it seemed to be having little effect. A ship could only do this half a dozen times before needing to revisit a major spacedock for repair and servicing. His only real concern was that the Byotai engineers had done their job back on Taxxu. If they didn't, he wouldn't have much to worry about, as the vessel would rip itself apart and fall to the surface wreathed in flames. The fighters were already through, with more to follow as the transports released their own support craft.

Another planet, another enemy! Just like old times.

This was far from Spartan's first battle, and he was well aware those few minutes at the start of the descent were something rather extraordinary. There would be no direct communication with forces in space or on the ground. This was often a tense moment, but he was confident they had timed their landing well. According to the scans upon their arrival, the Exiles had moved into position while the Anicinàbe were napping. Just a handful of interceptors had been launched to protect Montu, the obvious target for a major assault.

But we're not coming for Montu, are we?

A few of the enemy had accelerated away from the capital, but they were too few and too late to make much of a difference. The supporting mercenary fighters intercepted all the small number that managed to make it far enough. It was the perfect opportunity to think, and all without the interruption of the command network and the dozens of officers now present in the unit. The Exiles were keen, but there was an evident lack of experience present that resulted in far more traffic than he would like.

"This was not how it was supposed to be," said Kanjana.

Spartan's eyes were still closed, and with the connections severed outside of the ship, he was actually surprised to hear anybody speaking to him on the local network. Kanjana's accent was immediately obvious, even though she mastered the tone, accent, and inflection used by the officers in the Alliance years ago. He replied in hushed tones, doing his best to keep the conversation private.

"I know. Things change, but not our mission. We're here to help the Byotai, and if that means stopping this air attack, then that is exactly what we shall do."

Spartan opened his eyes when the warning tone indicated they were through the upper atmosphere, and that contact had been remade with the drones and fighters.

"The Blood Pack will be restless. They are expecting action."

Spartan let out a deep breath.

"I know. That isn't why we're here, though. They will have to curb their enthusiasm for now, or there will be nothing left to defend. The Byotai settlements come first."

The entire tactical network sprung to life as each craft, unit, and machine made themselves known. Only senior officers had access to the full picture, but those lower down could still see the positions of their officers and comrades on their helmet overlays.

Now that is unexpected.

The air attack on the outer walls was already beginning to peter out by the time the transports came in. What few Abn'dak remained had changed their strategy from air attack and so now doing the unthinkable. Spartan watched it happen three times before he spoke, still stunned at what was happening.

Incredible!

The aircraft were coming in low and then depositing Anicinàbe soldiers into battle, before turning and flying off. One even seemed to still be moving as a number of clan soldiers almost fell from the open flanks. One rolled over after hitting the ground and opened fire. A pair of rockets arced down and obliterated the unfortunate soul before the Byotai could even see him.

Okay, that's not what I expected to see.

They were clearly not here to take ground but busy causing as much damage as possible. He even spotted a group of six clan soldiers running back from the breached wall just as a civilian structure inside exploded; their own forces fired upon another group as they tried to escape the wrath of a line of Byotai soldiers.

What the hell is going on out here?

Spartan was almost impressed by what he could see, and had the Anicinàbe put additional time and care into the mission; they might have achieved even more. They had come in by air with little more than two-dozen Abn'dak aircraft and a few hundred warriors. With careful timing and a complete lack of care given to their warriors they accomplished results far in excess of the numbers committed. It had the hallmarks of a commando mission, and Spartan found himself smiling at the audacity on display.

Even so, he was surprised to see the Abn'dak aircraft lifting off and escaping before picking up their own soldiers. The howling of wind against the hull, combined with the constant clatter of small arms striking it, made it all but impossible to hear anything else. Spartan shook his head as he watched the fires burning in a hundred places. He clenched his teeth as he looked out at the Byotai positions.

We are supposed to be here to help in the campaign, not arrive at the settlements to help put out fires. What are these Byotai doing?

Spartan had always assumed that when they landed they would be welcome by the Byotai. It would be a day to celebrate until all were ready to begin the grand campaign to reclaim Karnak. Now the war seemed close to over, with Anicinàbe soldiers already atop the so-called impregnable defences. An image of Khan popped up inside his helmet.

"Spartan, recon reports have just came in from orbit. Looks like Nakoma has launched air attacks on most of the remaining Byotai enclaves. Even the small settlements in the wasteland have been hit. This attack on Melantias looks like nothing more than a diversion, maybe to stop the Byotai from helping each other. What do you think she's up to?"

Spartan already knew the answer without having to think about it. He'd fought in conventional stand-up fight many times, but there were still a few occasions, especially from back in the Uprising, where the enemy zealots had initiated some battles for no reason other than to spread fear and terror amongst the populace. He sounded angry as he spoke but did his best to keep his emotions in check.

"Terror. She wants the Byotai weak and broken, fearful of what will happen next."

"But they are not taking ground, seizing equipment, or even taking prisoners."

Spartan nodded.

"Yeah, I know. It would appear Nakoma has changed strategy following the botched attack on Montu by Kras."

He almost regretted mentioning the name of the Byotai that had resulted in the deaths of so many. The battle was fruitless, and ignoring it would do little but allow the wounds to fester.

"In my opinion, she's decided to avoid a conventional fight for now. Instead she has turned this into a campaign of terror. I expect she will keep her forces bottled up and continue to bomb where she can, preserving her forces and relying upon range and firepower. She's playing for time and hopes this strategy will force a victory without the need for an assault."

He looked back at the view of the fighting along the wall beneath them.

"This raid to nothing more than an attempt to break the will of the Byotai, for little cost. What Byotai would dare hit back when they live under constant fear of air attack? Little does Nakoma know that we have a small army coming in to help."

"Yeah," agreed Khan, though he didn't sound particularly convinced, "She knows we're here now, though. Will she wait or attack?"

The ship vibrated violently as the engines performed a reverse thrust. This was the final phase of the landing and would reduce their speed from hundreds of kilometres an hour to little more than a fast run. A low rumble ran from bow to stern as the vessel was put under additional powerful stresses. This was the part of the landing that would truly show the strength and resilience of the design.

"What would you do?"

Khan grunted.

"I'd attack, before we get time to regroup. Give us one month here, and the defences will be impenetrable. A month after that and we'll be ready for a full blown offensive."

Spartan clenched his teeth as the Byotai armoured transport came down quickly, her mighty engines sending plumes of dust for hundreds of metres in all directions.

"Let's get the settlements secured. Then we'll talk strategy."

A loud howl filled the interior of the ship as they dropped down the last few metres. The vessel took up a vast amount of space five hundred metres in front of the wall, and not far from where small groups of enemy soldiers were attempting to climb the wall. Any fighters looking to target the ship would have found their weapons and targeting systems to be totally obscured by the dust.

"Five seconds!"

 The doors opened simultaneously and provided multiple ways out for the waiting warriors. In the one section occupied by the Blood Pack, there were four large blast doors. As each opened, a series of long ramps crashed down to the surface. As it hit the ground, it sent up a cloud of dust that partially obscured the hole leading back inside the vessel.

"Out! Go, go, go!"

The great lumbering forms of the Blood Pack blocked the gaps as they stormed out in four large groups. It didn't take long to clear the compartment, and by the time Spartan was approaching the base of the wall, he heard the engines of the transport firing up. The sensors in his helmet showed three more transports were on the ground further along the wall, and he could see the IFF signatures of warriors streaming away from them.

Good, it's a start.

There was a real concern the landing party would be vulnerable during this phase, but Spartan had pushed them for the shock value of a direct landing. Normally, this wouldn't happen until full air superiority had been attained, but there was no guarantee that would happen any time soon.

Keep moving.

Spartan moved one foot after another, clearing the distance between the ship and the wall, while sporadic gunfire kicked up puffs of dirt in all directions. He spotted one of the Blood Pack take three hits in quick succession. Each time the warrior stumbled, and each time it clambered back to its feet and pushed on.

Spartan looked up at the wall and shook his head in amazement. He'd seen the images of the old facility before but not since it had been reinforced. The Byotai had been working on the site for over a month now, and it was unlike anything he'd seen before. It was a vast structure that curved like a great dam holding back a river. It was tall, smooth, and topped with a sloped roof to shield those at the top from missiles and gunfire.

Now that is what you call a wall.

Flashes worked their way along the top as the defenders continued to blast at any clan soldiers nearby. Spartan lifted his XC1 carbine and activated its power core, signalling for Kanjana and the Black Widows to follow. Like Spartan, Kanjana wore the M-3B tactical armour that had already shifted colour to match the dust and stone around them.

"Widows, up the wall."

He then looked off to the right where the four columns of the Blood Pack were deployed. A group of Anicinàbe soldiers sporting the armour and insignia of the Red Scars were digging in against the counterattack. The Spires soldiers were much more the traditional hit and run warriors, but the Red Scars were quite different. The scarring ritual was an ancient one, and they appeared to relish combat. Kanjana had explained to him there was nothing nobler to the Red Scars than killing in personal combat, ideally with their bare hands, or with the small combat knives they were so fond of.

Strange, I thought we gave them all the boot last time we were here.

Just thinking of the battle around the shattered maglev train sent a shudder through his body. The Red Scars threw all manner of machines and creatures against them in that fight. Sometimes Spartan wondered if parts of that battle were even real.

"Khan, take your troops through the breaches and secure the settlements. Get in there and do it fast. We cannot let this raid turn into something much bigger. If this region falls, so does Karnak, and then the entire Quadrant."

"Affirmative."

There were two major breaches in the wall at this point, and one in particular had collapsed a section so that it was barely two metres from the ground. Dozens of bodies littered the gap, and more than thirty Red Scars warriors were hiding amongst the rubble. Their transports had vanished, and not one of them seemed to know where to go. A handful ran back inside the breach and was quickly cut down.

What's happening here?

Spartan spotted Khan at the front of one group clambering up the rubble to meet the enemy; gunfire engulfed both sides. He smiled, knowing this was exactly what the Blood Pack needed.

"Watch out!"

Kanjana pushed him aside just as a pair of Byotai crashed down next to them. Both were already dead and riddled with gunshot wounds. Spartan looked up and found him staring up at the faces of Red Scars soldiers. One pointed down to him and started shouting to his comrades.

"Weird, they must have dropped down from a passing Abn'dak aircraft."

Syala blasted away at them with her weapons, but they simply ducked back, using the formidable defences of the wall to stay safe.

"Yeah, that's not gonna work, sister."

Spartan leaned back just a little and used the reticule on his visor overlay to tag as many of the enemy targets as he could. A light flashed, and he lurched to the right in time to avoid a pair of gunshots that struck harmlessly on the ground. He then looked to Syala who was laughing at him.

"What's your plan now?"

"We need to take that battlement. Get up there and..."

Syala and one of her Widows moved to each side of him, ignoring him as he continued to speak.

"Hold on tight," said Syala, "I don't want to watch you fall. It's a long way down."

Flames erupted from both of their packs, and then all three were airborne and moving up the wall. Spartan had only seen them used once back on the World Ship, and the feeling as he lifted from the ground was something incredible. His awe and sense of excitement faded as they reached dizzying heights.

Don't drop me now. That is a long way down!

Spartan glanced down and found all three squads of Widows were doing the same as they were. They blasted off from the ground, some even firing their firearms as they went. It was an exhilarating journey, and he might have forgotten about the brief battle, had it not been for the shortening distance between them and the soldiers atop the wall. Spartan spotted Kanjana just to his side, helped up by two more of the Widows.

Okay, that's...well...different.

With his added weight it took longer to reach the heights of the wall, and a few of the Widows were already there before him and fighting the defenders. As they moved slightly above it, he now saw the sloped roof covering the top had been shattered, with more broken and breached than actually remained. Red Scars occupied this particular section, while the last few Byotai had retreated to a single tower.

"Put us down."

Spartan expected a gentle landing, but instead the two Widows released him from five metres up. He did his best to take the impact as he hit the ground, but even with the correct posture and roll, he still ended up covering half the width before crashing directly between a pair of Red Scars. They both carried spike rifles and carbines. One fired first, and the spike struck Spartan's collar before deflecting off and embedding in the wall.

"Human!" snapped the enemy.

Spartan leaned to the right, dodged another shot, and then took aim.

"You're not wrong, friend."

Keeping his carbine low, Spartan depressed the trigger and unleashed a burst of gunfire. The small balls of magnetically cased plasma contained the heat and energy one might expect to find only inside a ship's reactor. The XC1 was state-of-the-art, and not something seen outside of the IAB. The rounds easily bored through any armour the Red Scars soldiers were wearing before bursting apart inside the plating. The first three rounds penetrated the first soldier's chest, and the fourth hit the forehead. Each vaporised a chunk the size of a tennis ball. The soldier was dead before he struck the ground.

Now that is a weapon.

All IAB marines now carried the production version of the carbine, and though expensive to construct and maintain, they were in a completely different league to the L48 and L52 weapons normally used at standard combat ranges. Only two of them were carrying them today, though, Spartan and Kanjana, and as far as Spartan was concerned, that part of the mission was non-negotiable.

"To the right!" called out another of the Widows.

Spartan couldn't see the shape just yet, but the indicator on his visor showed the position of the tagged individuals. Spartan had one in his sights as they ran into the path of four more Widows led by Syala; each was already pointing their weapons at them. She took a step towards them and extended both of her arms towards the Red Scars. The female warriors had landed in behind them and already cleared a small area with their weapons. On their back of their forearms they carried small machine-pistols, weapons capable of being used in one hand, yet releasing similar firepower, albeit at a shorter range than most weapons in the battle.

"Drop 'em!"

The weapons opened up with an incredibly high rate of fire. Muzzle flashes extended out to almost a metre, the sound more in common with a buzz saw than an actual firearm. The Black Widows moved in amongst the Red Scars, showing no fear as they engaged them at point blank range. A few rounds struck back at them, but the heavily modified armour did its job, and just one of the Red Scars managed to survive the assault for no losses to the Black Widows. The final remaining soldier ran straight at Syala, and she pushed past the others to block his path.

"He's mine!"

It wasn't obvious if he was moving to attack or just running away. In either case, he managed to make it to within two metres before she twisted sideways and delivered a powerful kick to his neck. The soldier staggered and was shoved from the battlements by a second Widow. Spartan watched the body fall to the ground and looked back to Syala.

"Remind me to never piss you or your girls off."

Syala laughed.

"Now you know what happens."

She gave him a knowing wink.

"Let that be an important lesson to you."

A rifle round whisked by and struck the wall, sending a chunk of masonry flying through the air. Syala aimed roughly in the direction of the shooting, and then turned back to check how the fight on the wall was progressing. It wasn't particularly easy to see what was happening. Smoke and dust from the air attack now blocked off large parts of the area.

"This section is clear. What now?"

Kanjana was positioned on the other side of the large breach and waving back to him. A pair of Windows flanked her, and it looked like the small group had also cleared their section in a short amount of time. Spartan fired a burst at a distant target before calling out to her.

"What is it?"

Kanjana then turned away and indicated further along the wall, where it was covered in dust. Something must have surprised her because she stepped back, dropped to one knee, and then blasted at an unseen assailant. The green flashes punctuated the dust, and then she threw her head around to Spartan and deactivated her visor. The young woman's pale white face looked back at him, showing no sign of emotion.

"I can see the breaches from here."

For a second Spartan had forgotten who she was, seeing her as simply a marine in the thick of a firefight. She was not supposed to be doing this, though, and he felt an immediate sense of worry. It wasn't that she was his personal assistant, or even an expert engineer and pilot. Her combat skills were acceptable, but not something he'd brought her along for. Kanjana was much too valuable to throw away in a frontal assault. She had a unique skill he needed more than anything right now. She was the only person there that spoke both tongues of the warring factions, and that made her irreplaceable.

"The Blood Pack are through, and the Exiles are climbing the wall from inside. The settlement is secure."

Spartan nodded.

"Good work. Now keep your head down. I can't afford to lose you. Not now."

Kanjana shook her head in mock amusement.

"Oh...great, I appreciate that."

The tone wasn't quite right, but the sarcasm was improving over time. When they'd first met, she was a quiet, tragic figure that wanted nothing more than to learn about the death of her mother in the Biomech War. She was one of the few people Spartan knew was more reviled than even he could sometimes be. The irony that she'd had no part to play in the war was not lost on him.

People can be fickle, especially when it comes to loyalties.

Spartan looked back to the Widows, Syala in particular. They moved much more quickly than he would have expected, especially with the large packs on their backs to help them climb heights, such as the wall.

"Well, then. It looks like we have this section secure. That didn't take too long, did it?"

Syala's expression was a curious mixture of excitement and glee. He found she was panting, but not from tiredness.

"Agreed."

She looked away and clambered to the edge of the section of broken wall. It gave her the perfect viewpoint to look down at what was happening on the ground. Spartan took a short run and leapt over the gap of two metres, sliding alongside her.

"What is it?"

Syala pointed down at the column of soldiers.

"The Exiles."

Both watched in silence for a moment as they moved through the dozens of gaps in the wall. One particularly large breach was big enough to let in a company-sized formation, and at its head was a single Exile.

"Tenskwatawa," Spartan said under his breath.

The leader of the Exiles was dressed and armoured just as he'd been back on the ship. His arms and legs were protected by nothing more than light clothing; only his torso encased in hastily fitted together armour. His head was bare, save for the patch that covered one eye. Spartan deactivated his visor so that his face was visible to Syala. He shook his head in astonishment.

"That fool is insane. They might venerate him, but a bullet to the head will kill him like anybody else."

Syala pointed off to where two Red Scar soldiers were kneeling and taking aim with rifles.

"Look."

Spartan spotted them and tagged the targets while lifting his carbine. He was fast, but not fast enough, they had already fired. A pair of high-velocity slugs made their way to Tenskwatawa. The computer inside Spartan's armour had already calculated their trajectory, and Spartan knew full well this was the end for the bareheaded leader of the Exiles. The first round arrived, but just as it made impact, one of the Exiles leapt forward while shouting. Others did the same, using their bodies as shields against the bullets. Two were hit, and both collapsed to the ground.

"What?" Syala gasped.

Tenskwatawa kept moving, giving the impression of a great religious figure, unconcerned with such trivialities as gunshots. The other Exiles helped their wounded comrades to their feet, and on they went. Spartan straightened his back and proceeded to scan the horizon, looking for any more stray soldiers.

"Incredible, just incredible."

Though lacking the equipment of the Widows, or the brute power of the Blood Pack, the Exiles had their own strength in numbers. Hundreds climbed the rear steps to secure dozens of wall sections, the majority rushing inside the settlement. All the time they could hear the soldiers calling out who they were, each keen to avoid incidents of friendly fire. There were very few shots fired now, and Spartan spotted small groups of Red Scars lying prostrate on the ground, surrendering to the new arrivals.

"Alert. Incoming transmission."

The sound from the internal communication system caught him by surprise, and he lifted his hand to stop the others from speaking to him. It was an urgent flash message on the command network and marked for his eyes only. Spartan activated it immediately upon seeing the source.

A transmission from New Carlos, that is...unexpected.

"Captain Delatorre, good to see you've landed safely."

Spartan couldn't have been happier at knowing one of his own ships was out there.

"Captain, it is damned good to hear your voice. What are you doing out here?"

The reply that came back was badly distorted, and Spartan sent a data request to repeat it again.

"Colonel Gun sent us to help escort the transports back. We have legal authority to escort transport carrying medical supplies, wounded settlers, and refugees. We are to transfer them once across the border. We will then rendezvous with Admiral Churchill's forces at Helios Prime. All part of the training exercises for the combined forces of Orion Command."

Spartan lifted his eyebrows at the mention of the new command structure. It had been a long time coming, but even he was pleased with the change. Time and time again the Alliance had been forced to assemble a motley collection of forces to deal with issues at different ends of Alliance space. Now there was a clearly defined territory, as well as attached units and commanders. Only time would tell if the new system had the resources required to actually function as intended. Orion Command was now responsible for everything discovered since humanity had first built the Spacebridge that brought them to T'Karan and beyond. Spartan smiled at the last part.

Training exercise.

Spartan grinned and looked to his friend.

"Of course, and right where he's already positioned a fleet...for training purposes, of course. Like the Admiral always says, the pieces continue to move."

"Major. We've entered the system and are escorting the transports back, as per the plan. During the transit vector we released four reconnaissance buoys. They will reach optimal altitude within the hour. We did detect chatter on the way in. Looks like something major is going on around Montu. There's heavy air traffic and their defences are active. We can't get to within a thousand kicks before encountering jamming and air defence systems. It looks like they're up to something big."

Captain Delatorre took a quick breath, and something beeped loudly in the background.

"If you need us, we're just a few hours away. Good luck, Major."

The audio channel clicked once, confirming it was fully disconnected. Spartan hadn't expected to come across IAB vessels in the area, but now he knew there was one on call, he felt a little more comfortable. One of their ships could get in and out of trouble faster than any other ship.

Okay, this is looking more like it.

CHAPTER TEN

The discovery of the Helion Nexus was much more than finding a path to a new domain; it was the beginning of first contact with a myriad of other races. First came the T'Kari, the remnants of an ancient society and kin to their more successful brothers, the Helions. These two peoples had much in common with humanity, and initial contact, while confrontational, quickly settled into something more beneficial. In a single generation contact was made with the Byotai, Khreenk, Klithi, the enigmatic Anicinàbe clans, and of course, the terrible and powerful Biomechs. Intelligent and advanced life forms had never been encountered before, and after generations of exploration, a total of seven new races were found in a single decade. The question remaining was what other life existed out there, and why was so much concentrated within such a small area?

Only one race offered an answer, and few were willing to listen to what the last of the Biomech rebels had to say on the subject. For they were now the only race with any remaining connection to the past, and held secrets that dated back to the first colonisation of the Nexus.

The Races of the Helion Nexus

Fortress of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

The air pressure had already changed considerably as the small group of leaders waited in silence. This change in environment was in stark contrast to the warm, dust filled air of the defences around Melantias. The elevator took them deep underground. The mechanism made an odd screeching sound as it made its way through a vast tunnel constructed generations earlier by powerful industrial machines. The elevator itself was a large affair, and easily capable of taking something the size on an entire crawler in one piece. As they travelled deeper underground, the temperature continued to fall. Khan looked to him with a confused look to his face. Like all of them, their visors were either open or their helmets completely removed.

"How far down are we going?"

Spartan shrugged and wondered if he should have done a little more research on what lay below the surface. He'd spent most of the time checking the routes through the hills, examining the air defences and the strong points of the walls. Of the limited time he'd had available to spend on the rest, very little had made it past fifty metres below the surface.

"As far down as it goes, I suspect. These tunnels were dug a long time ago, and the Byotai were forced to dig deeper as the deposits become harder to find. You saw the air attack. It's clear the Byotai lack any kind of serious air cover. They are totally reliant upon short-range air defences, and that leaves them vulnerable to attack from above. I suspect they are using the lowest levels for their command centre, not that they've told us anything of the sort."

Khan chuckled at the last part, and then looked back at the flashing lights as they continued onwards. The others wouldn't know what was the cause of his humour, but Spartan knew.

He's not wrong. I have to admit, the idea of a command centre seems more than a little optimistic. They are not warriors, no matter how hard they try and pretend otherwise.

"Everything okay?" Kanjana asked.

Spartan nodded politely, saying nothing in front of the others. Neither he nor Khan were particularly impressed with what they'd seen so far, but there was no point in revealing that, or anything else until they'd spoken with the Byotai leadership. Several dull thuds served as an important reminder that those on the surface were still mopping up, and that, more than anything else truly annoyed Spartan.

How they made it this far I will never know.

Spartan turned his mind back to his first visit here, when he'd led a team from the IAB to help rescue the General after the partial failure of the supply mission. Only a portion of the weapons had made it to the Byotai, but those that had were clearly doing a critical job. Since then, they had made three more drops, and the majority of the stockpiles based here and at Caldos.

Without our missiles, they would have been overrun months ago. And now that fool Kras has let their forward base of operations fall without a fight.

Spartan had intended on using Caldos as a thorn in the side of the Anicinàbe. Its nearby proximity to the capital Montu, and its strong defences would make it the perfect place from which to threaten the Anicinàbe. Just by holding it, they would be able to make themselves a nuisance. Through reckless stupidity, Kras had stripped the garrison of its resources and led them to their deaths. Kanjana leaned in close and lifted her hand to show him her personal secpad. She spoke quietly, little more than a whisper.

"The transports are moving away to join up with General Makos. The buoys have started to transmit though, and they've just sent us a new aerial scan of the Khagi district. It's just as you and Captain Delatorre suspected, maybe worse."

Spartan looked at the imagery and shook his head. He'd expected to see the shots of the temporary aircraft shelters and the prefabricated troop barracks. What he had not expected were the hundreds of ground vehicles positioned well away from the primary base. All around them were weapon platforms pointing up high to the sky. Above them were the circling forms of scores of aircraft.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. No wonder Kras failed to get near the place. And look at the numbers. She's been getting ready for this moment. "

He squinted as he looked at the odd shapes in the ground around the capital. It took a moment until finally he understood what he was seeing.

"Incredible. Nakoma must have found out we were coming and has made preparations. Those are barricades and trench works."

He moved the imagery to the large spaceport and watched hundreds of units performing combat drills out in the open. Some used a firing range; others practised marching drill or assault courses.

If we'd dropped around Montu, it would have been a massacre. We're outnumbered at least ten to one in Khagi, maybe closer to twenty to one.

Spartan moved his view back into the capital, where huge open spaces were hidden from view by temporary covers and roofs. Even so, he could make out the tracks around the shelters, and there were still ground vehicles out in the open. Then he spotted large numbers of creatures in pens. These were not beasts of burden, but the mounts like those used by the Red Scars earlier that year.

"These scans show signs of well over four hundred ground vehicles, and I recognise some from the Byotai. They probably took them from the forces of Kras. There's over a hundred assorted aircraft and..."

He looked to Kanjana and found her seemingly equally concerned, and then moved to Khan where she showed him the same. Khan had already received the information and was busily examining it as they travelled on what seemed like a never-ending journey underground. He looked to Spartan and lifted his eyebrows.

"She knew we were coming. Only she didn't know we were coming here first."

Spartan seemed to agree.

"Yeah. You think she expects an attack?"

Khan shook his head.

"Not now. She knows where we are and that the defences are damaged. The Zuni and Kolchan clans are only three days from here, and in strong position along the Qatar depression, three hundred klicks to the South. There's only one thing I'd do in her position."

Spartan closed his eyes and shook his head ever so slightly.

Combine her forces with those of the Zuni and Kolchan clans, and attack us while we're unprepared. She'd be a fool not to.

There was no need to say it; both had already come to the same conclusion. All thoughts of a mobile campaign to reclaim the lost settlements, or even an offensive against Montu, vanished in an instant. Spartan turned his thoughts back to the defences.

They will hit us hard and hit us fast. We have to be ready.

The fortified wall and defences were large and impressive, yet less than two hundred raiders had very nearly seized the place from under the noses of the Byotai. No matter how unimpressed Spartan was; Khan was even more irritated by it all. A lot of his kin had signed up to help in the conflict, and though the rewards were certainly an incentive, until now they had also shared something close to respect for each other.

If we hadn't been here, the Red Scars could have taken the wall unopposed.

The more Khan thought about their situation, the angrier he became. All made much worse after so many had already suffered in the conflict. Kras' handling on Montu had broken that bond, and little at this site seemed to be changing Khan's opinion. He tilted his head to the left so that one eye looked to Spartan.

"If they want to survive another month, there are going to be some changes around here."

Spartan seemed to agree but refused to say anything just yet, especially with such a mixed group around them. Morale was a fragile thing, and now there were multiple competing groups in an area previously only occupied by settlers.

Yeah, we need changes. And some of them they are not gonna like.

Spartan looked over to the others, examining each of them with the care he would give an enemy, prior to initiating battle. There was Syala and Kanjana with him, as well as Khan, plus a dozen Byotai militia; each doing their best to look gruff and dangerous. He'd left Arana and Olik on the surface to manage the logistics of housing such a vast number of new people. There was also the task of unloading the two smaller logistical transports waiting near the wall. Dozens of smaller vehicles were busy dragging out everything from food, water, and clothing to military surplus equipment from the Biomech War.

Look at them, there is a deep-rooted fear out here.

Spartan concentrated on the nearest Byotai, a tall female with layered clothing that looked quilted. There were plates of metal attached via straps to the shoulders and upper legs. For an urban street brawl it might have been useful, but he knew only too well what this kind of armour would do in a stand up fight with modern weapons.

Nothing! That will do absolutely nothing.

He looked at her face, and the bony ridge that ran down from the forehead and to the elongated nose. She reminded him a little of the Pogona species of lizard, with smooth, yet tough skin running down to a wide mouth and a horned cranial region. The horn sections were tiny, with few longer than a centimetre in length, yet the result was an alien species so very different to that of any other he'd met. Even the Helions and T'Kari simply looked like thin, lithe version of Humans, and the Anicinàbe could have been the weaker, alabaster white cousins of the Helions.

Her eyes! Look at them!

Spartan could see exhaustion in her face, something not even the best warrior could disguise. There was something more, though. She was nervous, and her gaze shifted ever so slightly to keep an eye on both him, and of Khan. To Spartan's surprise, her greatest concern appeared to be concentrated directly at the one person least expected to cause trouble.

Tenskwatawa?

At this distance, Spartan could look upon the sacred leader of the Exiles more clearly. They had spoken before on several occasions, but only since they'd landed on Karnak had he been even a little animated. Spartan had even exhibited his doubts he would be suited to represent the movement, but now it was obvious there was nobody better suited. There was much he shared with the Byotai female, but the softening of his features was the first indication he was far from being a pure-blood Byotai.

Tenskwatawa looked to him and then nodded at the doors.

"You should close your eyes before we arrive."

There was almost no accent, but Spartan nodded politely and ignored the suggestion. As the elevator began to slow, he turned to one of his guards, and for a second his eyes met with those of the female Byotai. He said a few words in his own tongue, and she took a step back.

What was that?

Kanjana watched the two of them as the platform came to a halt, and the mesh-covered doorway slid open to one side. At first it was impossible to see. The space underground was gently lit with yellow lights, and the Byotai stepped out into the dark open space. Spartan paused for a moment, giving his eyes a chance to adjust. Khan moved out and looked back to his comrade.

"See, he's not completely without use."

Kanjana indicated for them to follow her and said something to Khan that he quickly laughed off. Spartan was now out and moving through the darkness and towards a pair of thick, carved pillars. There were patterns cut into the rock, but they seemed to show nothing of note, just simple geometric shapes.

They are hardly the greatest artists, are they?

The group moved past the columns and into a hangar shaped room with a low ceiling and banks of vertical displays. In the centre was a raised circular platform that housed more than a dozen Byotai. Several spoke, and then all but two moved to the group of new arrivals. At the head was the tired looking figure of a Byotai Elder. He stopped, lowered his head, and spoke in Byotai. Kanjana tilted her head so Spartan could hear her speak.

"Governor Nak Sekieki."

Spartan barely moved as he answered her.

"I know. He's the commander of the entire site."

The Byotai leader heard them talking and looked past Tenskwatawa.

"Major Spartan, of the Alliance. You do us all a great honour. We were told to expect your arrival. I was not expecting to see so many..."

He looked to one of his bodyguards and exchanged words before looking back. His tone sounded dry and a little off to Spartan.

"So many distinguished guests."

His tongue flicked out, moved along his mouth, and then back inside before he spoke again. This time he indicated for Kanjana to approach so that she could translate as he said his words.

"General Makos promised me you would be arriving with mercenaries from across the many known worlds. We had expected Alliance soldiers, warriors from Khreenk, and perhaps even a few Helion soldiers. But not this..."

He looked back at Tenskwatawa and extended his right arm towards his guest. Only then did Spartan realise quite how confrontational this meeting had become. His instinct was to reach for his own sidearm, but he fought it off, knowing any violence down here would destroy the chance of success on Karnak. A quick glance at Kanjana showed he was right. He needed to stay calm. Clearly the half-blood Byotai was an issue, but he suspected the real problem was that five thousand new soldiers had arrived at the complex, along with a host of mercenaries. The total population of the region had just increased from a mere thirty thousand, to well over forty-five thousand.

There's more than just a settlement at stake here, remember that.

Governor Nak Sekieki walked past the rest of the group, sniffed at Khan, and stopped directly in front of Spartan. Kanjana walked silently alongside, waiting for him to begin again.

"Of all the crimes perpetrated by the border clans of the Anicinàbe, the worst was their infiltration of the half-bloods out here, in the Tenth Quadrant. When the first Anicinàbe arrived, Tenskwatawa and his kin welcomed them. The first of the betrayers."

One of Tenskwatawa's bodyguards took a step towards the Governor, and in that very moment a deadly battle might have erupted if it hadn't been for Khan.

"Enough! Let him finish!"

None of them needed Kanjana to translate this time, and after a short pause, the Governor continued.

"This creature was one of the clans that worked with the Anicinàbe...he is a collaborator, all of them are."

Tenskwatawa watched with interest but still said nothing. Governor Nak Sekieki took it as an opportunity to continue his diatribe.

"Tenskwatawa is an affront to every settler on Karnak. Those that live know only too well of the betrayal of the half-bloods that he led a generation ago."

Spartan waited until the Governor completed his speech, and then ran his finger along his chin. Khan already knew his friend had reached his limit, but other than him, none of the others appeared to have realised it. Spartan stepped away from the group and moved directly in front of the Governor.

"Well...that is just great, isn't it?"

The Byotai leader looked to Spartan while Kanjana translated. As she reached the last word, his face changed shape, and he opened his mouth to respond with some form of retort. Spartan remained silent and turned his eyes to the banks of screens. Most of the images showed overhead views of the region, and one the interior of a starship, presumably a direct connection to one of the Byotai warships.

"I take it you've seen the latest reconnaissance imagery from Montu?"

Governor Nak Sekieki hissed through his teeth back at Spartan.

"We brought you here to assist us, not to take control."

Khan snarled.

"Control? Your defence is a disgrace, Governor."

He almost spat out the last words while Spartan moved back and took up the centre of the room.

"Nakoma knows your defences are shattered and that you have reinforcements on the ground. She's been building up forces for her counter-offensive and now she's ready. Nakoma is going to attack, and soon. And when Melantias is gone, Karnak will be lost."

Governor Nak Sekieki lifted his arm, and Spartan batted it back down, to the horror of the other Byotai.

"No, you will let me finish...or by the Gods, I'll let Nakoma and her savages finish you herself. Understood?"

Governor Nak Sekieki sniffed the air and clearly wanted to say something. Khan made a low growl sound, and either that or a measure of self-control encouraged the Governor to hold back. Spartan gave him a subtle nod of acknowledgement, pleased that he was not entirely without merit. The Byotai swallowed uncomfortably rather than speaking and signalled for Spartan to speak.

"Good," said Spartan, "They have a distance of three thousand kilometres to travel, and they do not have the numbers to bring all of their forces in one go. We need to get ready."

 One of the Byotai senior officers spoke with the Governor and then looked to Spartan. He spoke in his own tongue, and again Kanjana translated. Khan grumbled once more.

"I thought we were the savages. At least we've adopted translators, even if they're not always particularly great."

Spartan gave a muted, barely noticeable chuckle.

"True. But out here they are trying to manage with the minimum of tech. Translators require equipment and support. I suspect they'd rather have clothing, food, and fuel."

Kanjana spoke firmly, pausing when she found it difficult to make out the thick Byotai accent.

"I am Tarnas, commander of Governor Nak Sekieki’s personal guard. What do you intend on getting ready for? We have a number of ground vehicles ready, but some were damaged in..."

Spartan shook his head and cut Kanjana off before she could continue.

"Nakoma may be three thousand kilometres from here, but I can promise you. She is coming here, and the first attack will be today."

Spartan stepped closer to Tarnas and could see the creature was confused. Governor Nak Sekieki spoke to him and then turned back to Spartan.

"By air they can be here in just over eight hours, but they will need to refuel to make the trip home. If what you say is true, and based on previous experience, I would give us ten hours before the first wave arrives."

Both Spartan and Khan appeared satisfied with this.

"Good," said Spartan, "Now, tell me about your defences."

The Byotai walked over to one of the banks of screens and proceeded to point out the various key components of the defences. He seemed very proud, but the warriors from the Alliance could see Melantius was no fortress; contrary to what the press were saying back home, or even the Byotai that lived on Karnak. At no point in the past had the facility been intended as a military installation. In the early days of Byotai settlement over three hundred years earlier, the pit had been dug deep into the rock, but only ever as an industrial plant. Melantius itself was only one third of the Byotai territory in the Stone Teeth Hills. The only reason it was given anything resembling a military title was due to the wall and air defences installed on the high ground behind the walls.

The General was right months ago. Without control of the sky, you are dead on this planet. If it hadn't been for that little operation, they'd have been in chains a long time ago.

After what seemed like an age the brief was over, and Spartan, Khan, and Kanjana moved around the final display that showed a map of five kilometres in diameter. At the centre of the map were the Stone Teeth Hills.

Governor Nak Sekieki placed his large armoured hand onto the display.

 "General Makos negotiated for your assistance to help us. Tell me, what have you brought?"

Spartan didn't answer but instead turned to present his guest.

"I have brought Tenskwatawa, and his five thousand Exiles. Every one of them aches to return to this Quadrant, a place they called home long ago. We also have two companies of assorted mercenaries as requested."

"And her?"

The tone sounded harsh, but when Kanjana translated she managed to keep the tone flat and neutral, much to Spartan's amusement. Syala waited patiently as the Byotai leader pointed to her again.

"What is her role? Our benefactors in the Empire have paid for professional mercenaries. Not some..."

Spartan seemed to find that particularly amusing, and when Governor Nak Sekieki spotted his expression, he stopped and waited for the female warrior to speak for herself.

"This is Syala, and she is one of the two commanders of the Black Widows."

As Kanjana finished translating, the expression on the Governor's face changed. He moved off to the left to examine Syala and even extended a hand to touch her. She pushed him away before he could make contact.

"I don't think so, pal. That's not why we're here."

Spartan contemplated intervening, but with Syala there was absolutely no point. She was perfectly capable of looking after herself, and from previous experience Spartan knew he was just as likely to anger her, or to elicit an angry response by doing something. She gave him a look he knew meant to stay away, and then turned her gaze to the Byotai.

"We run the Black Widows, the highest paid and most sought after outfit in the Alliance. There is no job we cannot do..."

She then looked to Spartan.

"And no fee too great."

Spartan had to say something, or else be might burst into laughter.

"The Widows provide a level of skill and firepower beyond anything you have here. Plus they have something not even I can provide. The Widows have a unique mobility element that we are going to need to survive out here."

The Byotai looked to each other and spoke for almost a minute. It seemed as though there might be an argument, so Spartan and the others used it as an opportunity to speak amongst themselves. Tenskwatawa surprised them by speaking first.

"I have brought artisans, engineers, factory workers, and craftsmen. Tell me what you need, and where, and it will be so."

Syala spoke while keeping an eye on the Byotai at the centre of the command centre.

"No wonder this is all that's left. They need to do more than talk."

Khan was clearly in agreement.

"Who put this Governor in charge? Maybe it's time..."

Kanjana spoke loudly, but in a slow, monotone voice.

"Governor Nak Sekieki wishes to apologise for his previous comments. Major Spartan. You and your forces came with the recommendation of both General Makos and our contacts in Alliance High Command. We know your reputation, and that you will do whatever it takes to succeed here on Karnak."

Spartan knew when to be gracious and bent down slightly before the Governor, even though Khan seemed more interested in grumbling as he did it.

"I understand. You appreciate that three of us are from the Alliance military, and here for the express purpose of helping to restore your medical capabilities and logistical apparatus. That is what we have been paid to do."

Tarnas made an odd sound and took over speaking from his commander. He turned around the screen so that all could see. The imagery showed a detailed view of the defences and settlements that covered the Stone Teeth area. Different colours designated where the defences were fully or partially functional, and based on the mount of red, the site was in a very poor state. Tarnas pointed areas far off to the South.

"Our forward reconnaissance units confirm your data. Nakoma is preparing her forces for battle. It is not just her forces, though, there is the fortified forward base used by the Zuni and Kolchan clans. They are only three days drive. We have scouts monitoring them, but it seems they are making preparations to leave at any moment, and we are far from ready. "

He moved his eyes from Khan and Syala, past Tenskwatawa, and back to Spartan.

"If they leave today, we could expect the first of their forces to strike in three more days. What do you suggest we do to win this battle?"

Spartan rubbed his forehead as he listened.

"You've already done what needs to be done."

Spartan turned around and beckoned towards his comrades. When he had their attention, he glanced back to the Byotai.

"You've called in professionals. Now, will you give us authority to command your forces? If you will, I can guarantee this settlement will not fall."

Neither Governor Nak Sekieki nor Tarnas needed to check, and both lowered their heads in subservience. The Governor lifted his arms and pointed to the displays throughout the command centre.

"All our resources are at your disposal. What would you have us do with them?"

Spartan looked to the right where Tenskwatawa was waiting.

"I want all available labour divided up into work groups, each led by an experienced leader. I don't care where they are from, just whoever is best for the role."

He then pointed to the second display with the imagery showing an overhead view of the entire region.

"We need the defences restored quickly."

Tenskwatawa nodded slowly.

"Yes, I can do this. With fifty work gangs, each containing a minimum of twenty people, we can have them working in shifts. Each group will compete against the next to get the work done."

Governor Nak Sekieki listened to the half-blood, and this time he managed to not flinch or mutter as Tenskwatawa spoke. Kanjana translated his words so that Spartan and the others might know what they were saying. Tenskwatawa paused for a moment and then continued.

"Based on what I have seen, I believe it is possible to have the defences fully restored within seven days. If skilled workers are brought in from the settler population, it could be dropped to something closer to five. The wall is mainly intact, but the breaches will require care for a usable restoration. I have people that can do this kind of work, but it is time intensive, and I will need to work unobstructed."

He turned his attention now to the Spartan.

"When the Zuni and Kolchan clans arrive, I will be unable to continue preparations. It is imperative that you keep them away. Assuming the first of the clans arrive on foot in three days, you will need to keep them away for two more days, longer if possible."

"I can handle that."

He then turned his attention to Governor Nak Sekieki who seemed to be stunned at Spartan’s confidence.

"Major. The two clans have been preparing heavy weapons for weeks now. I've sent in units to harass them, but we lack the mobility and the firepower to do anything useful. Every few days they send raiding parties to our outer watch posts and weather stations. If they start an attack, you will not be able to stop them."

Spartan smiled.

"Don't worry about that. Now, tell me, how many settlers can you spare for physical labour?"

Before the Governor could speak, Tenskwatawa interrupted him.

"I cannot use unskilled labour, no matter how keen they are to help. The stonework is a skill that takes decades to learn. I have people that can do the work of ten, if given the space and resources."

Governor Nak Sekieki checked something on a display screen before answering; clearly he had not heard the last few words.

"All of our settlers are ready for duty, including my own officers. The wounded and the lame were sent away weeks ago with the evacuation, as many again are in hiding in the abandoned settlements and weather stations. That is why we are now just thirty thousand souls. Few want to stay here and wait for the last battle."

Khan snarled.

"No, now you have another five thousand. And when we've won this battle, you'll find twice as many will come in from the wastelands to join you."

"Yes," Spartan added, "I can use them all to give Tenskwatawa the time he needs. Your people need a project to keep them occupied, to boost morale, and to help this facility. While Tenskwatawa assists your own experts on the defences, we will add another layer, one that will be ready within twenty hours and can keep the Zuni and Kolchan clans away from our work details."

"What do you propose, Major?"

Spartan moved his hand along the schematic and traced out a line in front of the wall.

"We will use a trick well known to my comrades in the military. Right now your defences are based on a principle known as perimeter defence. You have everything out on the periphery."

"Yes," said Tarnas, "This is the strongest and best way to use the numbers at our disposal. This has worked for us in the past, and I see no reason why it..."

Khan snarled.

"That is not a reason to continue doing it. Two hundred raiders nearly overran your positions. What happens when fifty thousand clansmen from the Zuni and Kolchan clans are at your walls? Will you stand against them, when two hundred nearly bested you before?"

Spartan reached up and placed his hand on Khan's arm, encouraging him to stop.

"Khan is not wrong. The defences here are strong, but not in the way they are being used. What is required is a system known as defence in depth. This is exactly as it sounds, and will protect us against minor breaches or any mistakes we might make."

Khan seemed desperate to join in with the explanation and started speaking while Spartan was still talking.

"...the problem with the wall is a single breach will end the wall. We will change that so that any breaches in the defences will just move you on to yet another chain of defences."

The Byotai looked to each other in surprise, but Tarnas said what they were all thinking.

"The wall is tall and strong. We have no other natural defences, no walls or towers. How can we do what you propose?"

Spartan knelt down and used his hands to drag small quantities of dust from the floor to make a low wall or ridge. Like everywhere on Karnak, the command centre had its own limitless supply of sand like dust, even this far from the surface.

"I have something to keep your people busy. Tenskwatawa will use his professionals and yours to prepare the existing defences."

He then pointed at the dirt wall he had built.

"At the same time, I will use every set of available hands you can spare me, and build a new line one hundred metres out from the main wall. We will dig a single long, three-metre deep trench that will run the length of the main wall. The spoil will be used at the front to create a ridge in front of the trench. This will provide cover from small arms fire and also stop any ground vehicles rushing to the wall. It can be built in less than a day, with enough people and your mining equipment."

Spartan used his foot to knock down the dust and bent down to push it back into a new shape. At first it seemed he was constructing a simple mound, but he scooped out the middle to create a fully enclosed space, like a miniature fort.

"We will construct two of these bastions, separated by three thousand metres and another hundred metres out from the wall. These will be our two bastions, each garrisoned by company strength numbers of warriors. This will be the first line of defence. We will station sentries and mobile air defences inside them."

Governor Nak Sekieki looked at the shape on the floor and shook his head in the Human fashion, before launching into a long stream of words. Kanjana listened for a while before summarising it in just a few words.

"The Governor does not see how constructing small bastions and yet another wall will help us, not if the Zuni and Kolchan clans will be here in three days. What is stopping Nakoma from launching an assault by air later today? All of these workers will get caught out in the open and be overrun. Would our time not be better spent on the main wall?"

Spartan finally understood their apprehension.

"We've brought a few weapons of our own, and I promise you this. If we establish our defences quickly, not be a single aircraft will come within a hundred klicks of this wall."

He pointed to the screen.

"The bastions will be able to engage the enemy well before they can reach the main defences. More important, they are quick and easy to build. The trench will allow hundreds of warriors to move to safety if attacked, and to help in the defence of the wall."

He tried to be positive as he imagined what the defences would look like. They were a far cry from the heavy defences he'd expected to find, but they would be more than serviceable. Tarnas moved his fingers about at one of the displays and added the proposed plan to the schematic of the settlement. It was rough and showed the trench as a long curve, with a pair of small squares out in front, like a pair of eyes. The Byotai opened his mouth and released air but said nothing.

He doesn't see the merit, the fool.

Spartan started to speak, but Khan was already past caring about their feelings.

"Listen, all of you."

Even Governor Nak Sekieki appeared surprised at his outburst.

"It is better to have second best today, than the best a day late. Do as Spartan suggests, and you will have workable defences before the sun goes down today. We can win this, but only if you trust us."

Tarnas and the Governor spoke quietly. The Governor then approached the two with his hands extended. Kanjana moved to his flank, ready to translate. Before she started, it was clear the Byotai leader was acting in a conciliatory manner.

"Thank you. I, and all of my kin place our lives in your hands. Until this crisis is over, I place the defence of the Constans settlements to you, Major Spartan and Captain Khan of the Alliance."

Khan extended his right arm and grasped the Byotai. The disparity in size gave the impression that one was a tall adult; the other was little bigger than a Human child. Khan's grip was tight while Governor Nak Sekieki struggled to do the same in return.

"Do not worry, Governor. We know what we're doing."

The Byotai returned to their displays and left the newly arrived group to themselves. Kanjana, who until now had been forced to do little more than translate took the centre position.

"They say what you want to hear, but Tarnas has doubts about the defences. I heard him discussing a withdrawal plan if the wall is breached again."

Spartan closed his eyes, and Khan began to grumble. Tenskwatawa lifted one arm, and Khan looked to him, curious to see what the quiet half-blood had to say.

"Spartan is correct, but not for reasons of defence. The Byotai will fight, and they will fight well, but if they are left to worry and wonder, they will break and run. I have seen this before."

He turned around and looked over to the settlers, all were busy using their computer systems.

"They must be kept occupied, even if their roles are to have no other purpose that to keep them busy."

Kanjana seemed to be quite taken by that suggestion.

"Yes. I get the impression that morale is the single biggest issue here. Since the Zuni and Kolchan clans arrived, there has been a drain on the settlers as many have left. We need to turn this place into a hub, to draw them all back, to rebuild."

Spartan nodded in complete agreement.

"Exactly."

As he moved to look at Khan, there was an exchange of looks with Tenskwatawa. Spartan wasn't sure what it meant, but there was something more to the man, but what he had no idea.

"Khan. You and the Blood Pack have one job from today, until the end of this fight."

The wizened warrior crunched his fists together.

"This had better not be construction work, Spartan."

Spartan ignored him and continued to explain.

"I need you to work with Tenskwatawa to get the Byotai ready. Tenskwatawa will manage the work teams alongside the Governor. I will leave Kanjana to assist."

The female Anicinàbe opened her mouth to object, but Spartan shook his head as he spoke.

"You have a skill at finding common ground. For all of Tenskwatawa's skills, the Byotai here does still not trust him. Make sure they focus on the real enemy."

"Nakoma," said Kanjana.

"Precisely."

Spartan then turned to Syala and found he was looking at an equally annoyed woman.

"Well, what are we going to do while this is going on? My Widows are not exactly cut out for digging and construction."

Spartan's mouth widened into a ridiculous grin.

"Oh, don't worry. I have plans for the Widows and the rest of our mercs, very interesting plans. Tell me you brought your scout vehicles, as I requested?"

Syala gave him a wicked smile.

"I brought everything you asked."

She then moved closer so he could almost taste her, all to Khan's amusement.

"And much more besides."

Spartan lifted his left eyebrow in mock surprise.

"Good. Meet me outside in thirty minutes, and have your people ready. I'll get the others and meet you."

She turned to walk away, leaving Spartan with Khan and the others.

"Well, what are you going to do?" Khan asked.

Spartan sighed, now knowing the magnitude of what needed to be done.

"My friend, I am going to buy you the hours you need. I'll be taking all but the Blood Pack and the Exiles."

"The Helion 5 and Dynax Corporation units as well?"

Spartan nodded.

"Like I said, all but your monstrous friends."

He then moved close to Khan and signalled for Kanjana and Syala to come closer as well.

"We'll do what we can. Just make sure this place is ready for a fight. When Nakoma arrives, it will not be in dribs and drabs. It will be an all or nothing assault. Anything short of that will cost her a fortune in resources. We're a long way from Montu this far North."

He turned to leave but stopped.

"There's one more thing. That last attack destroyed several of the surface structures. Knock down what's left of the damaged ones behind the wall, and get me two or three landing pads cleared. Oh, and make sure they are protected by air defences. We don't want any surprises."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Sekieki were an entire clade of bird-hipped reptiles forming one of the largest groups of animals in the worlds of the Byotai Empire. Unlike the ancient creatures of humanity, many of these Sekieki coexisted on the genetically diverse worlds of the Byotai, as well as some of the border territories taken by the Anicinàbe. The animal populations were controlled and protected, ensuring large numbers lived in the wild. Over the millennia the Byotai learnt to travel through space, and quickly colonised the nearby worlds to create a realm of dozens of worlds. Other races moved into the region, and the native species of Sekieki began to suffer. Available land decreased, as did the supplies of food, leading to bloodthirsty conflict. Centuries later the Sekieki are all but extinct in the Byotai Empire, with only the sanctuary of Sovax housing large wild populations. Many wealthy clan chiefs and warlords amongst both the Byotai and Anicinàbe now breed different sub species of Sekieki as beasts of burden, for sport and as mounts for scouting parties. Rumours became fact when the warriors of the Red Scars clan used Sekieki in battle on Karnak for the first time. They would prove a useful, if unorthodox alternative to light vehicles for reconnaissance parties and raiders.

Myths and Legends of Orion

Fortress of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

Spartan marched along the formation of mercenary units, while machines continued to clatter away in the background. Hundreds of workers were now out of the underground positions and busy making space for the new trench, repairing the existing wall, or helping to carry the vast stocks of supplies still sitting out in the open. The transports had brought much more than mercenaries and their weapons. They’d brought an equal amount of non-military aid, including food, clothing, and water. One of the containers even held dozens of excavators and utility machines that were being moved into position to start work on the defences.

They look good. That's something at least.

A single squad of the Blood Pack helped carry the heavy units containing tracking systems and mounts for the CTC manufactured air defence systems. They were the latest models and even newer than the most recent deliveries to the Alliance Marine Corps. Another group moved the weapons themselves, each a missile of two metres in length and mated to a special collar unit that fitted them inside the weapon platform.

Spartan stopped once reaching the middle of the formation. At his flank was Syala, the remaining leaders of the three groups waited in front of their own units. The three mercenary outfits could not have been more different. The contract for the black ops detachment of the Byotai operation was to provide three combat squads each, with a capped limit of fifty warriors per mercenary unit. They had all supplied what had been requested. Spartan would have liked ten times that number, but the ships were already packed with equipment and supplies, plus the vast numbers of Exiles so keen to join the war effort.

So, these are my elite warriors, the best money can buy.

At first glance they seemed a little pitiful. The Black Widows consisted of thirty-six warriors plus their leaders; the other two had no more than fifty each. In total it was little more than a combat company.

"Watch out!"

Spartan twisted to his left and moved back to allow a group of four tracked utility loaders to pass. They were small variants of forklift machines but fitted out with tracks for use on Karnak. They were busy moving huge containers filled with liquid. Spartan examined the lettering on the sides but found nothing more helpful than Byotai runic letters.

Typical. That could be water or flammable fuel. Who knows?

Once they'd past him, Spartan looked out at the assembled soldiers he'd requested. Though very different, the three units had worked together for days now, and he'd seen their combat drills in a variety of scenarios. They were good, and based on their reputations; he knew they could do what he needed. The mercenaries were flanked by three of the brand new Jackal MK II dropships, the latest incarnations of the craft designed and built for the Interstellar Assault Brigade. Whereas the first generation had been a sleek, partially stealthy insertion vehicle, the MK II had taken only the engines and power systems and mated them with an entirely new body. The end result was a larger, more brutish craft, perfectly suited for high-intensity operations.

They are exactly as we designed them.

Spartan smiled to himself, secretly rather pleased with what they had created. The Maulers of the Alliance were big and cumbersome. These Jackals were almost as capable, but smaller and faster. For this operation there had been some major changes, one of which was to remove all makers’ marks and Alliance equipment. This included everything from weapons to avionics. The end result was a machine that could easily have been constructed for export. These three were all stripped of their exterior markings and now plain metal. Only a few areas still showed any signs of the paintwork they had left the automated factories with. The only signs of colour were just the subtle marks of red on their missile systems that were placed far back on the upper hull, and the long black barrels of the two gun turrets fitted on each side of the front hull. Their four engines had twisted about so that their powerful thrusters were now pointing directly at the ground, like four stubby legs, with enough space underneath to drive an armoured vehicle.

Well, they aren't Alliance military issue...technically.

Spartan was still not convinced he would be able to get away with using them, but he had little choice. Just sourcing the vast number of resources to supply the Exiles was something short of a miracle. Each of them required clothing, body armour, weaponry, ammunition, and a whole plethora of supplies to keep fighting in the field. The price ended up lower than expected, especially with stocks of redundant equipment still piled high on the shattered worlds of the Helions.

All of the materiel assembled was fine for a stand up fight, but for his mercenaries he needed speed and mobility, and that was not something that could be improvised. The Jackals were something quite different, and there were was little chance they would be mistaken for Byotai craft. Spartan looked at the lettering beneath the cockpits that showed their names. The paintwork was new but rubbed and worn intentionally to give the impression it had been there for many months. Spartan could not read them from here, not because of the size but simply due to the letters actually being Byotai glyphs.

Nice touch, but I doubt that will fly with any real inspection. Still, they have a certain mercenary look to them. They'll work. They'd better work.

To Spartan's left and out in front of the three Jackals was the Helion 5 unit. This was the first time he'd seen them, but they came highly recommended by those that had seen them in action over the last three years. They were the largest organisation supplying private security units, and ran five separate facilities throughout the old worlds of the Helions. Their headquarters was at Helios Prime, and the company had recruited warriors that fought in the Helion armies in the war, as well as non-Humans from the Khreenk and T'Kari. They all wore lightweight Helion armour in the traditional hues of yellow and orange, and carried Helion thermal rifles at their shoulders. On their heads were tall peaked helmets that featured smoked visors over the top of the face and narrow horse-hair style plumes pushed up into a short, but dense shape.

"Helion 5, are you ready for combat operations?"

A single member of their unit, disguisable only by the different colour of his plume, stepped forward and signalled with his right arm.

"Yes, Helion 5 ready."

The accent was thick and laced with the odd enunciation of the Sh'Dori, the most privileged of the four Helion castes. The Helions fought a civil war in the early days of the conflict. That ended only with the attack on the Black Rift and a final victory for the Alliance of races. Spartan had known many Helions, but there was something about the Sh'Dori accent that made him suspicious.

How many of your warriors are Zathee, I wonder?

Spartan was tempted to find out more, but he had far more pressing things to concern himself with. The very fact the Helion 5 unit was there, on Karnak, and waiting for battle was more than enough for him. Their reputation suggested they were nothing short of the professionals they claimed to be.

Interesting choice of gear! Gun said they are the best-paid unit on Helios. We'll soon find out.

Spartan smiled but found it hard to pull it off and ended up with something closer to a grimace.

"Very good."

He turned around and found Syala looking right back at him.

"They are good. I've worked with them before. They don't like Humans much, though."

Spartan shrugged.

"I don't care who they like. The fools are here to fight for the Byotai, not us."

Next up were the Black Widows who took up the middle of the formation, with the dark armour and jet-assisted packs fitted. With all this extra gear they looked substantially bulkier than the other two units. Spartan noted that several were carrying heavy pieces of equipment slaved to their armour.

"That's new."

Syala took moment before finding what he was looking at.

"Yes, we adopted some of the ideas of the Khreenk. They've been experimenting with gyro-stabilised weaponry for their vehicles."

"That is not a vehicle, Syala."

Syala walked up to her warriors and placed her hand on the side of the weapon.

"I know. This is a standardised mounting, and we're testing the idea of using two per squad of twelve. The mounts fit directly to the backpack unit and can carry a variety of weapon packages. I think you'll like what we've done."

Spartan liked what he saw, but there was no time to spend examining weapons when there was a battle to be fought. He moved on from the Black Widows and stopped in front of the odd unit from the infamous Dynax Corporation. The group waited in silence, but where the other two were perfect examples of conformity, this one was the exact opposite; forty-five Khreenk, and every single one of them a unique warrior. All wore armour, but no two were alike. Some carried long rifles, others gyro-stabilised machine guns, and at least three with weapon packs fitted onto units on their very backs. The one thing they all had in common was that they looked heavy and brutal next to the elegant forms of the Helion 5, or the uniformity and power of the Black Widows.

"Dynax Alpha Team, your reputation precedes you. Are you ready for this operation."

The entire unit shouted in unison that they were ready. Spartan turned back to Syala with a confused expression.

"Who leads them?"

Syala shook her head.

"Dynax never tells you who is in charge. You tell one and they spread the order through the unit. Some say there are no leaders and all decisions are made as a collective. I don't believe that for a minute.

"No?"

Syala chuckled.

"Of course not. A military unit run by committee. When would that ever work?"

Spartan had no answer for that, and certainly not one he would want to use in front of three such different groups. He had seen their resumes in full, and each had enough experience for any kind of operation, from hit and run attacks, to reconnaissance, or even full-scale assault. Spartan moved his head from left to right, and then stopped, with his hands down at each side of his body. As he opened his mouth, the power units onboard the three Jackals began their start-up sequence.

"You've been training together since we left Taxxu, and I'm confident we can do what needs to be done here."

There was complete silence, apart from the ever-increasing howl of the Jackal engines. They were still only partially powered up, but without the amplification provided by his suit, there would have been no chance for them to hear him. As he talked, Syala and Arana had moved to four large metal containers. The units had been in storage inside the heavy transports, and then deposited moment before the large vessels left Karnak. They were large and completely unmarked, save for a tiny logo on the top that marked them as property of the Widows. Each was big enough to house fifty warriors inside, and almost large enough to even take an Alliance Bulldog armoured vehicle. The pair moved to the narrow sections at the end of two containers, and then turned back to look at Spartan.

"We are going to cause such a fuss in the South that Nakoma and her lackeys will think we are on the warpath, that our counter-offensive has already begun. I want to delay battle here at the walls for as long as possible."

He gave Syala a nod.

"Bring them out."

The doors opened from the top, and each crashed down with an almighty thud. The doors were wide and even though fitted with pneumatic dampeners, they seemed to have little effect on the large chunks of metal. Anybody near them would have been crushed or buried under the dirt. White lights switched on inside the containers, and then from behind the light and dust came the first of Spartan's special vehicles.

Here they come.

Spartan had seen them inside the containers, as well as videostream material sent to him by Syala. This was the first time he'd actually seen them out in the open, and as they emerged, he breathed a sigh of relief. One by one the small hovering vehicles moved out, standing just half a metre from the ground, and pushed ahead by turbofan motors underneath and to the rear.

"These are Helion utility hover Skiffs, and they will be our secret weapon against the enemy."

They moved out in front of the mercenaries and rose up to a height of two metres from the ground. Each was piloted by a single Black Widow at the rear, and they travelled with speed and agility unlike anything produced by the Alliance. There was just one inside each of the container units, and they moved to the flanks of Spartan and then settled onto the ground. As each moved to within a few centimetres, a set of four articulated legs dropped down and took the weight of the machine. Syala placed a hand on the side plating of one.

"Recon Skiffs, something you might expect to see used by the clans themselves. Each one can carry six fully equipped soldiers into combat and hit speeds of nearly a hundred kilometres per hour."

Spartan moved his hand over his head, and one by one the Jackals opened up their bellies. For the uninitiated it looked like they were opening their bomb bays. With each of the craft resting on the four large engines, they gave the impression of a line of cattle waiting to be milked. The Skiffs moved into position alongside the Jackals, and then with barely a sound drifted sideways and directly under the cargo bay. Spartan had given the specs weeks earlier, but even he was surprised at how good the fit was. Though almost the width of the bomb bay, they were short enough that two could fit end to end inside. The Skiffs powered up their systems and rose from the ground until disappearing inside the Jackals.

"The mag clamps will hold them inside, as well as a combat squad of soldiers."

He rubbed at his chin and then nodded towards Syala. The sisters moved back until at his side. More engine sounds came from the other container as more of the Skiffs moved out to join the Jackals.

"Ready?"

Both gave him a simple signal to the affirmative.

"Good."

Spartan then turned back to the assembled warriors.

"I want one squad of twelve from each of you, with another kitted up and ready for insertion in the next ten hours. Each final squad will stay here and assist Khan with preparing this rabble to defend the walls."

Again there was silence from the assembled mercenaries. The Skiffs might be new, but all of them knew they were to perform long-distance operations, and he suspected their minds were busy running over the enemy dispositions rather than thinking of Khan and the wall.

"The Skiffs are our secret weapon; the Helions used them to move ammunition and equipment around the battlefield. We will use them as scout transports. By transporting them aboard the Jackals, we can deploy and then move into position to conduct our attacks. The Jackals can pick them up without even touching the ground."

Spartan walked around the nearest machine, and its driver jumped off the rear of the Skiff and landed beside him, as it lowered down to just a metre from the ground. Even without a pilot it maintained its position above the ground. Spartan grabbed the side rail and pulled himself aboard. The craft tilted slightly and then righted itself to counter the change in weight and balance with the new passenger. The front was narrow, with an angular nose and protected housing that sheltered the driver on three sides. Angular plating had been added, the windshield replaced with a layered series of plates and small reinforced slits to look through. There were clamps on the ground, as well as straps to hold onto, or to hold down cargo or weaponry. He looked to the mercenaries, all of whom seemed interested in the equipment.

"You've been practicing long-range sniping and diversionary attack scenarios, and this is how we will get you into the danger zone. We move fast and keep them busy. Speed and firepower will be our shield."

The Helion commander lifted his arm slightly and spoke using his translation circuit. Spartan tried to hide a smile as the unit struggled to cope with his thick accent.

"What about the Anicinàbe aircraft? We will not outrun them in these...Skiff machines."

Spartan turned to his right and pointed at two of the forklift-tracked machines as they moved crates to the Jackals.

"Alliance surplus Rapier portable missiles systems. Each skiff will carry a tracking unit and launcher module, six missiles. We have reload packs aboard the Jackals, and operators will be coming with us to control them. If anything comes within range, they can expect a missile up the tail pipe."

The engines of the three Jackals increased in intensity as they built up to full power. Unlike the Skiffs, the sound was incredible, and as they increased in power, Spartan was forced to switch to his internal communications unit.

"That's it then, one mixed squad per dropship, just like we drilled. We'll go over the brief on the way. It's a three hour trip to our position."

There were no further questions, and a single fireteam from each mercenary unit filed into the waiting dropships. Each was capable of carrying much more, but with the Helion Skiffs inside, the transport capacity was severely reduced. By splitting them in this way, Spartan would have a mix of Helions, Khreenk, and Human in each squad. They'd already worked together, and the odd mix of capabilities had proven very interesting.

Good, this might even work.

Spartan waited with Syala and Arana at his side. It took just under two minutes for everybody to make their way about the Jackals, and this close to the walls of Melantias it would have been reasonable to feel even a little nervous. The fighting on Karnak was between forces in the thousands, and Spartan was taking just three squads, little more than a normal platoon in strength.

"Will this work?" Arana asked.

Spartan looked to her and her sister. With their visors open he could see their faces, and though genetically identical, they were a world apart in personality. Arana was serious, and might easily have been considered the elder of the two. Syala, on the other hand, was a hothead, and likely to make a snap decision, whether it was the right or wrong call. Together they combined everything a small unit commander could want.

"Yeah, with a little luck, it will work."

He rubbed his upper lip and lifted an eyebrow in a mocking expression.

"All we have to do is kick up enough fuss that Nakoma will turn her attention to us. Every hour we keep them busy is an hour where they are not attacking this place."

He turned back and looked up to the walls. Already there were scores of ropes and gantries being lowered down to work on them. The talk deep underground was less than an hour before, and already the work crews were using their machines, plus the excavators brought by the Exiles to start work on the trench line.

"If we can hold Nakoma here, we will break her. And when the other Byotai on Karnak see that, they will rally and rise up. There are more than half a million missing right now, and I can guarantee they are hiding because they have no hope."

Syala appeared almost excited at Spartan’s thinking, but Arana still seemed staggered at the complexity of the job before them.

"You don't need both of us for this mission."

Spartan nodded in firm agreement.

"I know. Arana, I need you to work with Kanjana and Khan. Help them create a military force that knows what it's doing. We're going to need a mobile reserve, and I suggest you base it on the Blood Pack, your mercs, and any others you trust. If Nakoma breaches the defences, it will come down to veterans."

Arana looked into Spartan's eyes and studied him for a moment. What he said made sense, but she was sure there was something else.

"Are you trying to keep us apart intentionally?"

Arana moved her attention of Syala whose smile instantly faded.

"What?"

Spartan shook his head while letting out a bored sigh.

"Not this again. No, I am not trying. I am doing. The two of you are the best out of the box thinkers I have. Khan and the Blood Pack are best suited to the upfront brawl, but you two..."

He stepped towards them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, grasping them firmly.

"...you two are going to give me options when the fights heads South. Dynax and the Helion 5 units might be good, but there's nobody with the background you two have. One of you will come with me; the other will help Khan get the reserve forces ready. Choose amongst yourselves if you want, just get a shift on."

The sisters looked at each other, and Arana finally said what Spartan wanted to hear.

"Okay, then. Syala, you go with him. I'll stay and prepare our new friends for what's coming."

Spartan seemed happy with this.

"Good, then let's give the Byotai what they've given up on. We'll give them a victory, and when Nakoma's warriors are crushed and running, the full-scale uprising can begin."

* * *

Fortress of Montu, Karnak, Tenth Quadrant

Visions of wars were common when she was asleep, but this particular dream was unlike any she had experienced before. Hundreds of ships swept in and deposited legions of Imperial soldiers, each one looking like an exact clone of Tahkeome. Worlds of the Byotai, Helions, and even the Humans burned, all the while her kin continued onwards. She saw herself at the forefront of the fight, with Tahkeome at her side, but not once was his face ever visible. He moved in the shadows, with his personal guard always stopping him from coming too close. Ogimà Nakoma rolled over and opened her eyes. Senior Centurion Siwili was waiting at her door.

"You!"

She automatically pulled the curved blade that was always at her side and lifted it, ready to defend herself where she lay.

"Apologies, Ogimà. But I thought you would want to know."

The female war chief was already sitting up and pulling on her body armour. She was naked from the waist up and showed no signs of embarrassment or discomfort in front of her subordinate.

"They have arrived at our defences?"

Senior Centurion Siwili shook his head.

"No, Ogimà. The mercenaries landed at the Constans mining facility and engaged our reconnaissance force. Our units report the arrival of significant ground forces."

Ogimà Nakoma tightened a strap around her waist and pushed her blade back into its tight sheath.

"Byotai Imperial troops?"

"No, mercenaries carried aboard Byotai privately flagged ships."

Ogimà Nakoma's brow tightened in irritation.

"I knew this would happen. With our fleet shattered, we can no longer offer a useful blockade of this world. Time is not on our side, and now they muster sell-swords to attack us. They grow confident."

She shook her head as if trying to remove water from her face.

"Pull back our aircraft from the Southern theatre and concentrate them all at Melantias. Bomb them into submission. I want nothing left but ashes."

Senior Centurion Siwili made for the doorway but stopped.

"What of our ground forces? They are ready to defend Montu and awaiting orders."

Nakoma stepped out to the window of her quarters. As one of the few that lived on the surface, she was granted a view of the entire city. Dust rose up in a hundred places as clan warriors and vehicles moved about in a constant state of flux. Off into the distance a pair of fighters was coming in to land, and she noted both were lacking their external ordnance.

Either they were successful in their attacks, or they dumped it on the way back.

 She was so busy looking at her forces; she almost forgot what her deputy commander was saying.

"Siwili, say that again."

"Our ground forces, Ogimà. The Zuni and Kolchan clans report they are ready to begin a ground offensive against Melantias. Their ground vehicles are in position, as are the penal units."

Nakoma's mouth opened to the side in a cruel grin. The penal units were her own solution to the problem of manpower, especially since she'd been forced to send a large force to assist Tahkeome. There were thousands of Red Scars on Karnak, but with Ogimà Takosk dead, they were leaderless and ineffective. She’d been magnanimous in their defeat and sent in new officers from the Spires to take command. Those Red Scars that had shown her loyalty were retained. This meant that the Southern Front was now effectively controlled by a Spires officer corps, but with clan soldiers mainly from the Red Scars.

The others will not have it quite so easy, though, will they?

Nakoma recalled the short, but bloody revolt by a small hard-core group of Red Scars. They had refused her leadership, and the offer to join her command, and instead tried to steal ships to leave. Nakoma's response was brutal, and she sent in her troops to pacify them. More than half were killed, and the survivors now formed three penal companies kept under guard by the force of the Zuni clan. Her eyes opened wider as she remembered something else.

"And the new unit? Are they also in position?"

Senior Centurion Siwili lowered his head.

"Yes, Ogimà. The survivors of Kras and his Byotai militia are at the depression and under guard by the Zuni clan."

"Good. Very good."

She considered her options for a moment. Karnak was close to breaking point. Her forces in the South were still in control, even if the remaining Red Scars were proving unruly. Khagi had been crushed, and the last stronghold in the North would soon be surrounded. She turned away from the grand view and to her senior centurion.

"Tahkeome has little faith that we can end this war. He wants us to wage nothing more than a campaign of terror. We can do this, but when he returns, he will simply sweep in and claim the glory, and the spoils for himself."

Her tongue flicked out, and a small piece of gleaming metal flashed in the light. The stud was embedded in her tongue and seemed to catch the light from multiple directions. She ran the tip along the inside of her upper lip as she considered her options. Nakoma had spent a great deal of time thinking on this subject already but until now had not made up her mind on a final course of action. For a second she contemplated doing nothing, but then the news of the mercenaries in the North settled things her mind. Having a large number of unknown forces over three thousand kilometres away was unsettling.

"Send the signal. I will not leave these new arrivals alone so they can plot and scheme. It is time our Byotai friends were introduced to a real war. One where they will be unable to sleep for fear of our weapons."

Nakoma rubbed at her cheek, imagining the devastation to the Byotai enclave. Her assembled aircraft were a force to be reckoned with, and though primarily designed as assault craft and troops transports, it was still quite easy to change them to the role of bombers.

"Yes, that will work. I want the Zuni and Kolchan clans to move from their base and into forward bombardment positions, no closer than ten kilometres from the defences. How is their work progressing on the rail system?"

Senior Centurion Siwili looked at a report on the flat display panel fitted to the wall. A monotone diagram showed the maglev system on the planet and lines where breaks had been made. The Byotai had managed to destroy large segments of track, making rail travel all but impossible this far from the capital.

"The equipment is in position. According to the last reports, the North-South line has been severed at four points between Qatar and the Constans mining facility. The clans should be able to make repairs as they go."

"Good," said Nakoma.

She nodded to herself as she gave more thought to her plan.

"I want them in position in..."

Nakoma did a quick calculation to work out how long it would take for the clans to move the three hundred kilometres across rough ground. There were no roads this far North, and the rail system was severed closer to the Byotai positions. The Qatar Depression was the final functional destination for the maglev rail system that operated throughout the planet.

"...three days."

She turned back to Siwili.

"These are my orders, and I want both initiated within the hour. Understood?"

"Yes, Ogimà."

Nakoma closed her eyes and assembled an image of the planet's surface in her mind. Karnak was unlike other planets and lacked large numbers of cities or major settlements. Outside of the three main regions was nothing more than hundreds of small settlements, each little larger than a village.

We need to control all three regions, and then we can deal with the stragglers.

"First, the defensive walls sheltering the Constans facility must be reduced. I want the guns we paid for in position and firing day and night until they are rubble. I suspect that with the walls gone, the survivors will plead for mercy."

She nodded to herself, as though she was removing them from a list.

"Second. The rail system from the Stone Hills, back to the Qatar Depression must be repaired. It is not enough that we can send goods and materials to the staging post. I want to be able to send shells directly to the guns. We can use this to transport more troops North as needed."

"Yes, Ogimà. I will send the orders immediately."

He began to move away.

"And our own forces, Ogimà? What orders should I give to our clan commanders?"

Nakoma turned from him and walked back to the balcony. She gazed out at the assembled warriors. Already they were starting to look more like the legions she had discussed with Tahkeome. Her eyes drifted and then focused on the long lines of aircraft. The majority were safely protected beneath prefabricated shelters, only the air defence interceptors waiting on their pads in case the order was sent. Nakoma had assembled a veritable arsenal, with more than a hundred of them waiting for her command. Their number was insignificant next to the thousands of clan warriors that waited at her beck and call. With the entire clan on Karnak, the Spires now had air power, but without the rail system, it would take weeks to transport all of their warriors and heavy equipment to the front-lines.

"Yes, Zuni and Kolchan clans can bear the brunt of this attack. I want our troops held in reserve. It's time for our new friends to prove their quality."

Siwili looked a little confused, but as expected, said nothing. Nakoma noticed his hesitation but decided to make nothing of it.

"Senior Centurion, you never know. The Byotai might be stupid enough to attack us again here at Montu, and if they do, the war will be over in a single day. Pray they are that stupid."

Nakoma wanted to mobilise all of her forces and head North. Her logistics were still too weak, though, and she refused to fritter away her resources until she could be guaranteed of a victory. One mistake could see the Byotai march into Montu, and the war would be reversed in an instant.

"Senior Centurion Siwili, bring all our officers here in one hour. It is time to organise the last campaign of this war. Karnak will be ours, and all of you will share in the success."

With those last words, Siwili left through the side door and marched past the pair of Spires guards. A short flight of steps took him down to the ground level where he could now see outside. There were ground vehicles, containers, and aircraft as far as the eye could see. One of the newly turned Red Scars waited patiently with two more Spires officers at his flanks, each keeping a wary eye on the turncoat. Siwili stopped and gazed at the three.

"It's time. Assemble the officers."

CHAPTER TWELVE

As the years moved on from the Great Biomech War, the memories of those lost faded. Teresa Morato, senior officer of the Alliance Marine Corps, and wife of the infamous Spartan, was not one of them. From a troubled background on Carthago, Teresa joined the Corps to provide for what remained of her previous family. Her growing involvement with Spartan created a relationship that would survive the fires of the Uprising, and even the bloodiest battles of the Biomech War. Only in the last hours of the war, when Spartan and Teresa fought against impossible odds did she finally succumb. For Teresa, there was both death and glory; for Spartan, the bitterness of victory and the loss that so many now felt. Since the Biomech War, the Morato name had been used for training centres, civilian ships, and even a school. Even in death, her name would remain a constant reminder of what price so many paid.

Teresa of Carthago

Ninety-nine hours later

Fortress of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

Spartan and his group of commandos had gone for only four days, and already three separate air attacks had hit Melantias, each coming at different times of the day or night. The first was a disaster for the Anicinàbe, but they were learning. And with each subsequent attack their tactics changed. Unlike the Byotai, the Spires Clan were especially strong proponents of hit and run attacks, the fighting conducted by ground troops brought in by air. They lacked a large arsenal of heavy attack aircraft, though, and that weakness was already beginning to show.

This attack marked the fourth time the Spires had positioned aircraft around Melantias since the arrival of the Exiles, and something had definitely changed. The first warning was not an alert siren, or even shouting, but instead the bright flash off to the North as a single object was destroyed. Khan had insisted on placing air defences out to fifty kilometres in all directions, much to the objections of Governor Nak Sekieki. Even as Khan watched the wreckage fall from the sky, he knew it was not one of their attack craft known as Abn'dak Raptors. After so many engagements, he was sure he could identify the Anicinàbe from little more than a distant silhouette.

That's no Abn'dak.

The broken object tumbled from the sky as more missiles streaked out to hit targets. Khan watched as yet another was hit, and this too tumbled down.

What's going on?

Two more missiles moved out from one of the distant sites, and then Khan immediately knew what was happening. With a quick movement of his retina, he selected the identifier for Arana who was currently the acting commander at the wall.

"This is Khan. Shut down the launchers on the outer perimeter, and switch all scanners to passive operation."

"You think they're decoys?"

Khan lifted a single large eyebrow as he considered the question.

"That, or the Anicinàbe have suddenly become very lazy. No, I think this is something else. Either they are trying to exhaust our missile supplies, or..."

The communication system crackled gently but with little audio degradation. Arana continued Khan's sentence, much to his amusement.

"They want to identify our air defence sites."

Khan nodded in agreement even though she could not currently see him.

"I suggest we relocate the outer defence missile systems immediately."

Again there was a short delay before Arana's voice returned.

"I agree, Khan. Nakoma isn't stupid, and she already knows we have substantial air defences. If she knows our full capabilities, she will be able to perform precision strikes to remove the scanners, and then the missiles. I believe you know the Wild Weasel operations?"

Khan's mind flashed back to operation in the Great Uprising. Back then he'd seen the Zealots using looted Confederate aircraft against them. Wild Weasel missions were common on both sides, and though very dangerous, they performed a critical role if any attack was to succeed.

"Very well. Get them ready at the defences. I'll put the perimeter on lockdown until the units have been relocated."

"Understood, Khan, Arana out."

Another missile launched, and it hissed as the weapon accelerated out of its unit. Luckily for the Byotai, the reinforcements brought in by Khan and the others had a large quantity of weapons.

Still, not even the missiles will last forever.

That one thought annoyed Khan more than he knew it should. Without the air cover, the aircraft of Nakoma could fly at will, bombing targets and dropping off commandos where she liked. It left him feeling passive, a style of combat he was no fan of. As the missile vanished from view, he felt warmth in his body that began to build up to an old feeling of anger. Khan had little respect for the Byotai traditionalists, and this Sekieki continued to prove the old guard of his race were just as self-righteous and arrogant as he expected. He'd thought much more of them in the Biomech War, but even then their numbers had been fewer than expected, and there was still much bitterness throughout Helios that they could have done a lot more.

If their warriors are all like this, maybe it was just as well they stayed at home.

Khan knew it wasn't entirely fair, and the warriors aboard the Byotai ships had fought and died the same as the rest of them. Even so, what was happening out here on Karnak was quickly tarnishing that reputation. As Khan thought back to the great battles fought by the legendary leader Makos, he spotted dozens of Byotai settlers running from their positions as the air-warning alert sounded once more.

This is starting to tiresome.

A single unit of Exiles had climbed down from their position in the bastion and were off, heading back towards the wall and on to the other side.

"Hey, stop there!" Khan yelled.

He reached out, grabbed the first, and spun him about. Armour plates taken from one of many Helion battlefields protected the Exile, and he carried a hunting rifle on his shoulder. It was heavily modified, and Khan noted the primary chamber was fitted for thermal rounds. It was unlike the weapons carried by the others in the unit.

"Where are you going? Did we not make the orders clear? Captain Arana has taken control of the inner defences today. Has she called you back?"

The Byotai listened and then spoke in his own language. Khan shook his head and tapped the side of his helmet, but still nothing. Then the squad's officer approached and activated his translator, one of the many brought by the Exiles to assist in the campaign. He lowered his head a fraction, in acknowledgment of Khan's authority.

"Captain Khan. Our orders from Captain Arana were to protect the outer line to the South. But we..."

Khan shook his head.

"No, there is no but. The chain of command is here for a reason. The watch commander sends commands to company commanders, and the orders continue down to sub commanders. The Governor is a civilian. He has no place issuing you orders. Not if he wants to win this fight. Junior commanders have enough to worry about as it is."

Khan placed his hand on the officer’s head.

"That, my friend, would be you."

The Exile said something that the translator failed to convert and then started speaking much more rapidly.

"We are heading to the watch towers on the Northern perimeter. Reports from the Governor say airborne forces are moving in from that direction. By the order of Governor..."

Khan lifted his hand in front of his mouth to silence the officer. He then opened his mouth to speak just as another soldier came along. He might have tried to berate Khan, but upon seeing the armoured behemoth he just stopped and waited in silence.

"This is a ruse, a trick to get us to redeploy. It will take you thirty minutes to get there, and all you will achieve is weakening our defences here. We've already got units in position to protect the rocks and passes to the North. Nobody is getting through any time soon. They would require more than a week to work through the narrow passes, and we've mined and blocked them all."

Khan stopped for only a second as he took in breath, and each of the Exiles seemed to almost tremble as they waited for the onslaught.

"Now, get back to your positions, and keep the Southern approach secure!"

The first officer hesitated, but the second, clearly a more senior leader, just struck him in the back. There followed a short exchange of angry words, and the squad turned back around and moved back into the bastion.

That's more like it.

Khan looked up, but didn't move from his position near the newly erected bastion. Missiles were already launching from the hidden position behind the wall and moved up to yet more unseen targets far into the distance. He looked back and to the wall where hundreds of work crews were still slaving away. As the Exiles rejoined their comrades in the bastion, he spotted two more squads of Byotai soldiers running to the wall, in stark contrast to the resilience shown by the Exiles.

Interesting, the Byotai pure-bloods run, and the Exiles stay.

It wasn't entirely fair, of course. The settlers were just that, civilians with firearms, and these individuals had held this ground when others had run. Khan was feeling far from charitable today, however. A small gust of wind blew dust into his face, and he immediately regretted leaving his helm open and exposed to the elements. He looked to the left and spat out the dust, finding several small chunks still grinding between his teeth.

Blood means nothing.

As Khan shook his head, he spotted a small number of drones flying off into the distance. These were the standard Byotai models, lightweight, hard to track, and capable of flying for hours at a time. He watched them for a few more seconds until they finally vanished, moving in long, slow circles to gain height.

Our eyes in the sky.

Khan's overlay on his visor filled with new details as the drones sent back all manner of information. There was always a drone in the vicinity, but in the last hour the nearest one was sent to the South at the request of Spartan. Khan thought back to his friend and the reports he'd seen coming back.  In many ways he'd much rather have been there and taking part in the hit and run attacks. But forces coming to the city, and their numbers were truly colossal. Two drones had been lost in the Khagi district, but they already showed that an airlift was underway to the Qatar Depression, and that could only mean one thing. War.

What's that?

Khan stopped and turned his attention to the new icons appearing fifty kilometres to the North, first one, then another, until finally there were more than a dozen.

They really do think they are cunning dogs, don't they? Nakoma is trying to lure out our force, so she can strike from the opposite direction.

Khan licked his lips with anticipation and continued his walk just below the position of the new trench. The Byotai had named it Spartan's Wall, and each time Khan heard them saying it he laughed. Spartan was known for many things, but having buildings or defences erected in his honour must have been a first.

Give it time; they'll learn to hate him here too soon enough.

Now that Khan was satisfied with the defences here, he moved back to the small squad of Blood Pack warriors nearby. The remainder were behind the wall and busy running through weapon drills and training with the Byotai and Exile soldiers. Khan had taken this short moment to leave the wall so that he could check the perimeter. Even this close to the main defences, he was followed by the small retinue of five more Jötnar, including Olik, who on this particular operation was his second-in-command. Olik moved to his left flank. They looked like metal gods alongside the others, and as they marched past each squad, there was a palpable sense of awe. The Jötnar were more than just oversized monsters armed to the teeth, they were inspirational. Few other warriors could match the Jötnar, and their reputation for fair-handedness and violence.

"How are our new lieutenants doing?"

Olik seemed amused at the question.

"The Iron brothers are temperamental, but the Pack respects them. There are fewer better to lead them in our absence."

"Good."

The six Jötnar moved along the Southern rampart while constantly checking the status of the soldiers in this section, making sure their weapons and equipment was ready. Khan was perfectly capable of protecting himself, but he had not complained at being issued a bodyguard, or even argued against it. Aside from Spartan and his own kin, there were no others he truly trusted on Karnak, and he would be damned if he was going to be killed before he exacted vengeance upon Nakoma and her warriors. Khan had seen enough battles where the defenders had been caught by surprise. He had little doubt any problem, no matter how big could be solved by his kin.

Olik stopped walking, deactivated his visor, and pointed off to their flank.

"Khan, the Byotai militias have fled from the outer defences. I see eight complete platoons of Byotai all fleeing their positions."

Khan shook his head angrily.

"They aren't fleeing. Not even the settlers are that pathetic."

He snarled upon recalling the direction they were all moving, and the more he thought about it the angrier he became.

"They are falling back on the orders of the Governor. Can you access the low-level commander sent by Sekieki?"

Olik chuckled as he began working through list of commands. There were a number of security barriers, but with the access codes given to Khan he quickly bypassed them. Unlike Khan, Olik had always been something of a prodigy amongst the Jötnar. The majority were interested only in military matters, violence, or engineering, but he'd taken a strong interest in the world of technology around them. As he hit the last security block, a whole barrage of commands appeared, each connected to specific platoon commanders.

"Well?" Khan asked.

Olik took a moment as he filtered out anything non-essential, and finally he had only the unit movement orders for all the Byotai and some of the Exile units selected.

"There. Updating now."

Khan's face tightened as he looked at the dotted lines. Each showed a location order than had come from the bunker deep underground. He'd expected a few based upon what had happened to the nearby platoon of Exiles, but not this.

"The incompetent fool!"

Even Olik found himself speechless for a second. He swallowed twice before saying what he thought.

"The Governor has called back almost half of the perimeter defences to protect the Northern approaches. But what is this?"

Olik highlighted a section at the centre of the facility, only a short distance from the Constans deep core mineshaft. The imagery from the drones provided much more than the position of individual units. It also gave detailed topographical information, as well as live imagery.

"He's pulling back more than four hundred warriors to protect the approaches to his underground lair. That leaves holes in the Southern defences, right here."

Khan pulled in air through his nostrils and did his best to remain calm, simultaneously selecting the section a kilometre away along the wall. It showed nothing protected the broken section of wall, other than the Spartan's Wall.

"The fortress can go to hell, all providing the Governor is safe in his hole."

He paced back and forth, and then looked directly into Olik's eyes, his gaze penetrating and angry.

"Can you override those orders?"

Olik shook his head.

"Kind of. But the Governor has major influence, even with the Exiles. It would cause a panic with numbers of countermanding orders moving about."

Khan hissed.

"The idiot, this is the kind of lunacy that killed Wictred."

He felt angry, so turned his attention to what was actually working.

"At least the Exiles are standing, and so are the first of the Byotai that we've retrained so far. As for the others, let the shame of their fear bring them resolve next time they are needed."

Olik grunted.

"If there's a next time."

Khan smiled, pleased in the knowledge that he'd done his part. No matter what hit the wall, it wouldn't matter to him. He was surrounded by warriors, and an insatiable desire to see Nakoma pay the ultimate price. The only possible concern for him was that the entire battle would be fought from the air.

"Olik. We needed to hold this facility for three days. We've done that already and still the enemy has refused a ground assault. Spartan and his commandos have done their job, and every day he holds them off is a day we can use to prepare. The turning point is coming, I promise you."

Olik looked less that excited and struck Khan on the shoulder.

"Friend, those words work on the rookies. We both know what's really happening out here."

Khan chuckled.

"True."

With that, he reconnected to Arana, who was still moving about at the top of the wall, issuing orders and keeping every single individual at Melantias busy.

"Arana, this is it. They're all yours. All I need is a single Exile platoon to cover the breach at position seven. Governor, whatever his name is, has pulled back the guard unit."

"Understood."

Khan breathed slowly as he listened to her give a long stream of orders to the officers in the field. Arana was calm and collected, much more so than her twin sister. She gave the orders quickly and clearly, and Khan was pleased to see the acknowledgement commands coming back over the Secgrid. He stopped and listened to her final transmission to those at Melantias.

"This is your chance to show Nakoma and her dogs that this world, this entire Quadrant is yours. Now...fight!"

Khan looked up and spotted the woman, dressed in black and holding the Byotai Empire flag. This wasn't something he'd discussed with her, but the effect was electric amongst the defenders, even to the Exiles who often seemed far from committed to the cause of the other Byotai.

"Fight...fight!"

Arana called out the order three times, and each time a chorus rumbled along the wall. Olik looked to him with a wide beam.

"Listen to them, Khan, you can barely hear the Blood Pack with them. Now that, my friend, is motivation."

The warning sirens continued their howl, and Khan took the opportunity to walk calmly up the dirt rampart on the Northern side of the bastion. His small entourage did the same, though now they had their weapons in their hands and ready. The bastion was far grander that its name implied, but in twenty-four hours it had certainly transformed from a series of tall dirt walls to something resembling a fortification. Rocks had been brought out from around the Constans pit and used to reinforce sections of the Southern wall. Exile gun teams had also position multiple Helion heavy weapons, as well as a number of air defence systems. Olik stopped and looked back. His armour made a gentle squeak; a piece of dust or dirt must have become caught up in the joints.

"Listen to that. They are bombing the Northern approaches."

Khan twisted at the waist and watched the first smoke columns rise. To anybody else there it might have seemed he was wrong, but Khan had little doubt about what was happening. He checked the drones once more and found the image to the unit heading South beginning to fade. Then with a single flash the feed cut out.

I knew it.

He turned to Olik and his small entourage of Blood Pack warriors.

"This is it. Get ready."

Khan was now inside the bastion and broke out into a run to the Southern side. The middle was filled with Exile soldiers and workers. Most were heading for the dugouts and trenches still being dug into the ground. The Blood Pack reached the rampart and climbed up to look out to the South. Khan was at the wall first and waited quietly while Olik issued orders to the nearby squads. All along the Southern dirt wall were two full platoons of soldiers, half of which were Exiles. Each of them lay down on their bellies, just their heads and weapons visible over the top.

"There!"

Khan pointed off to the horizon where a long shimmering dust cloud made it almost impossible to identify the ground from the sky. Large black shapes, this time much bigger than the Abn'dak Raptors were coming down low. At first Khan thought they were going to crash, but they moved above the ground, never coming close enough to land or even to drop off warriors. They were then absorbed by dust. Khan lifted himself up higher.

The crazy fools, if they're not putting down troops, then what are they doing?

Even as Khan thought it, he knew it was exactly what the enemy was doing. There was no way of telling how many craft had landed. There may be as few as three, or anything up to the entire air-mobile element of Nakoma's forces, and that could mean thousands of warriors.

"Arana. They are doing something to the South...the scanners say forty kilometres away and closing."

"I see them," replied Arana, "Doesn't seem they've landed yet. High-altitude drones show multiple larger class dropships heading your way. Looks like they've found a way to use the dust to mask their approach."

Khan laughed loudly, and some of his comrades looked back, wondering what the fuss was about. Olik focussed their attention to the South, while keeping an eye on his old friend.

"Tell me something I don't know, Arana?"

At least six missiles roared overhead and rushed off to the South to meet with the new targets. They disappeared into the cloud, and moments later came a dull yellow flash and then a loud cracking sound. There was no obvious sign as to whether they made contact with enemy forces, and they might just as easily have struck the ground. Behind them they could still hear the sound of bombs and missile strikes, but the drone footage showed the attacks were having little effect, and landing randomly. As Khan had suspected, the attacks were only there to sow confusion, and had very nearly succeeded.

"What is it?" Olik asked.

Khan licked his lips with anticipation.

"That, my friend, is trouble. They are using dropships to create a dust cloud and then bringing in heavy landers to drop forces behind it. We could do with air cover out here."

The optical unit on his visor tried to adjust to the distant shapes, but the cloud of dust continued to grow until the entire horizon vanished before his eyes. Orders continued to be sent out from Arana surveying the defences from her position high above the others. All the while the workers and engineers brought by the Exiles continued to slave away at the wall, filling in gaps, mending damaged plates, and placing yet more layers of the tough Nanocrystals.

"Yeah. Shame Makos isn't here. We could definitely use a few squadrons of Byotai fighters."

The Jötnar shifted, and his Blood Pack armour groaned.

"How many are there?"

Khan continued looking to the South, but the cloud still blocked his view of the ground and the sky. It might as easily have been a conventional dust storm, yet this was clearly artificial. He kept his eyes glued to the position where he'd seen the shapes and waited. It was not easy, but as the minutes ticked by, so did the sharpness of the image. Khan's jaw hung down low as he looked in astonishment at the force before them, just as they vanished into the cloud once more.

"I...I can't..."

He looked back to Olik who was still issuing orders to the other soldiers. He looked liked a robotic monster compared to the diminutive size of the other defenders.

"Well?"

"Byotai land vehicles and..."

Khan shook his head.

"...and lots of animals, beasts like the ones the Red Scars used before."

Olik lifted his firearm and checked the ammunition feed before glancing back to his friend. He seemed far less surprised by the creatures than Khan was.

"Red Scars? I thought we'd smashed them in the North."

Then for some reason the mention of the animals seemed to peak his interest.

"Yeah, we did. Looks like them, anyway. Maybe Nakoma is using them to lead the attack. Revenge I'd expect. She is one cruel bitch."

Olik looked back, and his armoured helm opened up to show a confused looking Jötnar.

"What kind of animals are you talking about exactly?"

Khan pointed off to the South and then looked back as one of the Exiles began to speak. It was the young soldier with the modified hunting rifle he had spoken with earlier. The translator took a moment, but Khan recognised some of the verbs immediately.

"They are Red Scars. You could tell by the pennants on their mounts. Like our ancestors, they use the Sekieki for reconnaissance and for raiding."

Khan checked to his left and then to his right, making sure the loose alliance of settlers, soldiers, and mercenaries was in position and ready. The figures ranged in height from the diminutive form of Helion freebooters, to the heavily armed Exiles, and the monstrous hulking shapes of the Blood Pack.

"Ready the mortars. We will engage them at the five-kilometre mark."

He then looked back to the wall and up to Arana who was still at the top. She lifted an arm in acknowledgement, and then Khan's internal communicator clicked on the open network. While this continued the soldiers and civilians in the forward position made subtle adjustments to all of their weapons. Guns and mortars were sighted on the predetermined positions far out into the distance.

"This will be the first ground assault against the wall and our new defences, but I promise you, it will not be the last. We will hold them here, and every other time they try and take Melantias."

Khan looked carefully at her while he noticed a subtle change around him. The ground itself was gently vibrating. Not enough to move earth, but he could detect it. He looked back to the South as the great cloud of dust came ever closer. The thermal imagery of his armour tried to penetrate, but the dust cloud covered a large area, and its density made it difficult to penetrate.

How can anything even breathe in the middle of all that?

 As he watched and waited, the sound of Arana's soothing voice called out along the fortifications they'd erected. A quick glance behind him showed hundreds of settlers moving into the trench behind Spartan's Wall.

"Defenders of Melantias. Stand your ground and listen to your sub commanders. Those on or behind the wall will follow the directions I have laid out. All outer defences to the South are now under the command of Captain Khan. Follow his orders and defend your sectors. Do not let them through."

As she finished speaking, the first shapes emerged from the dust cloud. Khan looked out and shook his head in amazement. They had almost reached the five-kilometre markers out on the open ground, and just as he'd ordered, the mortars crews were getting ready. There were all manner of light to medium weapons in the fortress, but of them all, the mortars were perhaps the simplest, yet perfect to defend the open approaches to the wall.

Here it comes, finally.

Khan activated all of his systems and then took aim with his Blood Pack Thumper. The weapon was unfamiliar to him, but it hadn't taken much practice to get used to the device.  The cloud still obscured the bulk of the enemy formation, but it was now led by dozens of modified vehicles, like some great vehicular horde that had risen from a scrapyard. Khan began counting as they moved ever closer to the white markings made on the rocks at the five-kilometre mark.

"Fire!"

Scores of mortars opened fire, launching simple impact activated high-explosive charges into the air. The majority were from the stocks collected up on Helios Prime, and were 81mm Alliance Marine Corps issue weapons. The man portable weapons weighed nearly forty kilograms and could unleash a bombardment at a rate of fifteen rounds per minute. The thud of mortars filled the air as hundreds of rounds dropped down, hitting the dust cloud and those hidden within. Flashes of yellow filled the horizon from the initial volleys doing their work.

"Looking good, Khan, I have multiple impacts and major secondary explosions. Should we..."

Khan didn't wait but lifted his left arm to point at the explosions.

"Reduce range, cascading pattern. Keep firing, let them all burn!"

He then looked to Olik before clamping his helm shut.

"It's payback time, my friend. Nakoma will finally face my wrath."

Olik checked the rest of the Blood Pack squad was still nearby and then moved along the bastion, encouraging the different warriors to keep on firing. Loading and firing was a laborious process, and it was easy for the gunners to slacken off if not pushed. One Helion mercenary clambered up the ridge and yelled back to Olik. Either the fool had left his translator off, or it was non-functioning. The only word he recognised was the last one.

"Anicinàbe!"

As he called out the last syllable, a flurry of heavy projectiles flew overhead. Khan edged to the right as he spotted an entire barrage coming his way. His gut instinct was to move, but he was well aware the morale of his combined force was untested. There was more to the coming fight than just numbers; he needed to show them there was nothing to fear. One nearly hit his shoulder, and then continued on to hit the wall far behind him. Rock would have splintered, but the Nanocrystal surface layer absorbed the impact and spread out the energy to a much wider area.

"Steady," he said in a firm yet calm tone.

The horizon lit up as hundreds, perhaps thousands of weapons opened fire. From his position at the Southern wall of the bastion, it looked as though a fleet of ships had just switched on their lights, but Khan knew what was coming.

"Take cover!"

The second volley was massive, like a hailstorm, but with projectiles coming in on a flat trajectory. The Helion soldier turned and jumped down, but it was too little too late. A large calibre shell struck and decapitated him with the precision of an executioner. The poor mercenary's head was blasted off, leaving a headless corpse balanced sickeningly at the top of the ridge, like some cruel totem.

"Stay down I said."

Khan checked his flanks and noted with satisfaction the defenders were now keeping their heads down, while the mortar crews continued to drop in bomb after bomb. He glanced backwards; hundreds of sparks as hardened slugs struck the slick, glossy surface of the wall. Few penetrated, the majority absorbed or deflected by the crystalline paste.

"Arana, are we good?"

The reply was instantaneous.

"All fine here. I have militia and Exile platoons on the walls, and squads of Widows at the towers, as planned."

"And my reserve?"

The next barrage was so loud Khan could barely make out Arana, even inside the acoustically stable interior of his Blood Pack armour.

"...Helion 5 and the Blood Pack are waiting. The Brothers are agitated. Are you sure they are the best to stay here?"

Khan licked his lips as he considered that.

"Understood, I'll send Olik back there. They will follow him as they would follow me."

Olik spotted two Byotai settlers climbing down from the rampart and slinking towards the rear of the bastion. He called after them but instead of turning back, they ran. Olik twisted around to Khan.

"Not good, my friend. Their staying power is...untested."

Khan saw what had happened, and as he looked at the faces of the many different warriors, he could almost smell the fear on them. He leaned in to Olik.

"Get back to the wall and command the reserve. I need somebody reliable back there."

Olik nodded and didn't seem particularly surprised at the order.

"And the Brothers?"

Khan smiled happily before answering.

"Send them here. I have plenty they can get on with."

Olik moved back without saying another word, leaving Khan with just five guards. As he reached the rear of the bastion, he looked back. Khan was climbing up to the highest position on the Southern rampart, right alongside the fallen Helion officer. Khan pushed the body down to the other side so that it slid from view. He then looked back to the horrified and frightened defenders.

"Stand your ground and fight with us. I will never leave you."

Olik shook his head and moved out of the bastion, making for one of the security gates at the base of the wall. Back at the bastion, Khan and his entourage took aim with their Thumpers. The dust cloud had thickened this close to the wall, and his visibility dropped to less than a kilometre. At least this close he could see the front of the great horde. There were wheeled vehicles and creatures as far as he could see. He connected to Olik. He was now at the wall and moving inside.

"Good work, Olik, my friend. Make sure they are ready. This is going to get violent."

Khan took aim at the nearest group of creatures and pulled the trigger of the Thumper.

"Fire!"

Gunfire erupted along the line of the bastion as Byotai settlers, Exiles, Jötnar, and a bizarre assortment of mercenaries opened fire. Behind them they were joined by the crackle of small arms as the defenders atop the wall joined in.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Prior to the Uprising of 330CC, the armed forces consisted of the powerful Confederate Navy, as well as the Marine Corps and the sprawling Confederate Army. The Army was raised locally, recruits and officers taken from the regional recruitment areas. Equipped with heavy armour and equipment, they were a force to be reckoned with. Though cheaper to maintain and train than the more specialist Marine Corps, they also proved notoriously unreliable. In the Uprising, entire armies changed sides at the whim of their commanding officers. With soldiers coming from a single geographical location, they were much less likely to turn on their own, making command and control next to impossible. One of the immediate consequences of the war was the disbanding of the Army, and its replacement with a far more basic and less sophisticated Colonial Guard. Though often taking the names and history from the regular Army units, this new force was a shadow of its former self, with no ships, transports, or heavy weaponry. The Marine Corps was enlarged and its capacity improved to take on the role now vacated by the Army. The Colonial Guard would never leave their homeworlds, and their loyalties would stay with their own people.

The Fighting Forces of the Alliance

70Kms South of Melantias, Karnak

Spartan held on tightly as the Skiff banked hard to the left. The movement was followed by a sickening lurch as they dropped down behind another of the dunes and out of sight of what remained of the small column. Most of the clan machines were being moved along the Maglev system, but constant attacks on the line by two of his Skiffs had slowed them down. Now this advance party of twelve lightly armed vehicles had been sent ahead to clear the route for the convoy.

"Good shooting!" Syala yelled. "That's the troops transports gone."

Spartan looked back at the burning wrecks of the wheeled vehicles. They might have been fast, but compared to the Skiffs were little more than slow, fat, easy targets.

"Get down!" snapped one of the Khreenk mercenaries. His translator even managed to increase in volume at the end, giving some sense of urgency. Spartan ducked, and a burst of sharp metal harpoons flashed overhead and embedded in the ground. Spartan quickly identified three much lighter vehicles. Each was packed with clan warriors out for revenge.

Okay, that's not so good.

A Black Widow took aim with her gyro-stabilised cannon and opened fire. The high-velocity slugs from the electrically fed L48 variant almost seemed to home in on the first vehicle and punched holes the size of beer bottles through its armour.

"Get out of here, now!"

The Skiffs separated, and the crews opened fire on their pursuers. Few of the rounds hit, with the exception of those fired by the stabilised weapons. Spartan and Syala led two more Skiffs to the right; the others vanished behind another set of dunes. Spartan's Skiff twisted to the right, dropping down to its legs to become a stationary gunnery platform. It was a risky manoeuvre but also the only way any of them on board would be able to offer much in the way of resistance.

Positioned off into the distance, and on both flanks, were two more of the Skiffs in just the same position. Each vehicle was near the top of the reverse slope so that only the weapons and crew were barely visible.

"Here they come," said Syala.

The two lightly armoured wheeled vehicles leapt over the peak of the dune in a great cloud of dust. These were looted vehicles from Byotai stocks, and had been little changed other than the addition of clan pennants and markings. The driver of the lead vehicle must have spotted something because he tried to turn away to their left. It was too late, and a volley of thermal weaponry from the Helion 5 sharpshooters quickly devastated the engine unit. The vehicle lost power and moved on a short distance until it came to a stop. That was when the low-velocity energy blast from the Khreenk hit it. The green energy struck with such power the entire machine vanished in a power flash.

Spartan turned his attention to the second that was gunning its engine to get closer. The clan warriors on the rear were blazing away, but with the vehicle bouncing about so much, there was little chance of them hitting a thing.

"Bring it down!"

A fusillade of thermal rifles opened up from the right, but this time the vehicle managed to keep going. Two clan warriors were blown off the back, and still it moved on. One even managed to embed a round into the flank of Spartan's personal Skiff, much to his annoyance. He shook his head, lifted his carbine, and put two rounds into the driver. A metal screen might have protected the unfortunate soul, but the magnetically cased rounds of plasma had no problem penetrating it.

That's better.

The vehicle overturned, and more thermal rounds struck the underside, setting off a series of explosions that ripped the machine apart. Little remained of the burning wreck as it tumbled down the other side of the dune. Spartan looked back to Syala and opened his visor. His face was grubby, and sweat dripped from his brow.

"That time was pretty close. We need to be more careful."

Syala shrugged.

"Maybe. But that's the fifth scout unit we've peeled off in the last ten hours. They're starting to panic, and we're delaying their advance."

The distance scream of an aircraft's engines pulled his attention from the attack. A fourth Skiff further back was already on it, and Spartan watched with satisfaction as a pair of missiles launched simultaneously. The Rapier unit was an interesting one, and its ability to launch up to three missiles at the same time had proven invaluable.

"Alert, incoming warheads."

The computer's voice was calm, yet stern enough to catch Spartan's attention. The Rapier system and the communication units used by Spartan and the others were fully integrated, using the Secgrid architecture provided by CTC. It was much more advanced than the one he'd used in Alliance Marine Corps, and was already being rolled out to all front line units for command and control. Though offering much the same capabilities as the existing tech, the new CTC system featured a number of open protocols that made it simple to connect new systems, software, and machines directly to it. All secpads were now designed to use the same infrastructure, as well as secure partial data connections to the public Cortex.

"Commandos, move out."

The name was not strictly correct, but with three different units of mercenaries, it proved much simpler to use one word to describe them all. The title also had the ability to unify them, and already they were developing something akin to an esprit de corps. The Skiffs left the area seconds before the laser-guided munitions struck around them. Though carefully targeted, the great speed and manoeuvrability of the Skiffs made them difficult to hit. The Rapier system had proven adept at both hitting aerial targets as well as scaring others off.

They are not the masters of the sky they thought they were.

Spartan brought up an overhead map of the immediate area North of the enemy positions, as they continued to weave around the dust dunes. According to the map, the old Maglev system ran through low depressions filled with large rocks. They were large as buildings, and their surfaces wiped clean by dust storms. As he looked at the topographical data, he was pleasantly surprised to find new overhead scans coming in and automatically updating his current information.

Our drones. About dammed time. Good work, Khan.

Even in this small skirmish, he found his mind drifting for a second. The last report from Khan had been optimistic, with nothing but air attacks around Melantias. Already the commandos had delayed the enemy, and he knew that every minute would give Khan and Arana more time. Though seventy kilometres from Melantias, he could already hear and feel the meaty thud of artillery and aircraft fire.

We'll bleed them, old friend, and when they do reach the walls, they will already be weary and low on supplies.

The drone provided much more than simple overhead imagery but also thermal data, as well as signal strength of radio frequencies. Just a few seconds looking at it showed Spartan what he'd dreaded from the start. A large portion of the enemy had bypassed the rail system and was following the advance party of Red Scars through the wilderness.

"All units converge on my position. I want air defences established on the approaches and overwatch positions on the high ground."

Spartan then activated his communications system and sent a burst data request via the drone. By using the device overhead, he could use direct-line communications and decrease any chance of being intercepted.

"Spartan, good to hear your voice. We're eight hours from sealing the last breaches in the walls. Everything else is ready."

Spartan felt relief at the sound his old friend, though immediately noticed the sound of gunfire in the background of the transmission.

"What's happening there?"

"Red Scars. Some of them must have got past you and are moving into position. We'll take care of them. Don't worry. There's still no sign of their heavy weaponry. I assume we can thank you for that?"

Syala said something, and Spartan shook his head as she looked at the same imagery on her overlay. Although her armour and equipment was completely different to Spartan's, she still had the CTC Secgrid system piggybacked onto hers.

"As soon as they known the track is damaged, they will know where we are. They can fix the track in an hour, max. The clans need the rails to move their heavy equipment and supplies. They will fight to protect the system."

"I know," said Spartan.

He thought for a moment before continuing.

"Scans show a major build up here, and they are trying to get past us and on to you and the city. We'll do what we can, for as long as we can."

"Understood," replied Khan, "Don't do anything stupid."

Spartan laughed.

"I won't do anything you wouldn't do."

* * *

Fortress of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

Khan was hot, his body aching, and his lungs bursting. It had been a long time since he’d exerted himself as much as today. The Southern wall of the bastion had been overrun with the great hordes of Nakoma, and the creatures and warriors of the Anicinàbe were now meeting his own warriors amidst the mortars, artillery, and dugouts that littered the middle of the temporary fortification. Off to the left the creatures of the enemy were through the trench and at the wall. Nearly a third of the Byotai settlers and Exiles had already retreated through the small sally ports he'd had positioned, desperate to escape the blades and handguns of the ferocious and psychotic looking Red Scars.

Cowards, they need to fight!

Khan didn't even consider moving backwards, even though he was now surrounded on three sides. Hundreds of Red Scars had dismounted to climb up the bastion ramparts. It had turned into a bitter close-range fight, the defenders on the walls continuing to shoot at anything they could see off into the distance. Standing at his flank were his retinue of five Blood Pack warriors, as well as the Iron brothers.

"Khan, to your left!" said Lieutenant Yunn.

Yunn was the shorter of the two brothers, but they sounded and acted the same, so much that Khan considered them to be one person with two bodies. He didn't hesitate though and twisted a fraction, putting ten rounds into the three approaching Anicinàbe. The Thumper might have been an unsophisticated weapon, but at this range tore off heads and limbs with equal ease. More Anicinàbe Red Scar soldiers turned and ran from him, and Khan started laughing.

"Run, the best decision you've made all day."

From the Southern rampart a group of eight Spires soldiers appeared, cloaked in their standard robes, and their faces hidden behind respirator masks. The lenses glowed red, giving them an evil, sinister look. In their hands they carried the fearsome long-barrelled Jezzails, and lifted them high. Khan tensed as they cut down the first of the Red Scars retreating. Khan was stunned.

"What?"

Another six were cut apart, and then more Spires soldiers were there, taking cover at the top of the rampart and shooting at the defenders and Red Scars with equal abandon. He was so surprised he didn't notice the dozen or so Red Scars that reached him, and then ran past before throwing themselves down into the sections of vacated trenches. Khan looked back at them, only then realising they were not shooting at the defenders. They were pulling themselves down and away from the sights of either side’s guns.

Suicide units. The Spires are using them as meat shields. That's why they have so few weapons. The poor bastards!

Khan had no love for the Red Scars; they were a people at least as brutal and violent as the Spires, but this was something else. Khan snarled at the blind cruelty being demonstrated and then took aim. This time he tagged the Spires soldiers only, even though they were further back and in cover.

"This is Khan. Ignore the Red Scars. They are being used as gut bait only. Concentrate on the other units."

Arana answered immediately.

"Are you sure? I have three units of Red Scars approaching the only remaining breach in the wall."

Kanjana, who was with Arana at the wall, and helping liaise with the many disparate units sounded just as sceptical.

"Khan, the Red Scars are animals. They are as likely to cut and kill you for helping them. Stay away from them."

Khan snarled through his teeth, knowing an incorrect decision could cost them the defences.

"I know. But they might have a use. Put Olik and the Blood Pack behind the breach. They will plug the gap, if needed. I will take responsibility for what is happening out here."

A four-wheeled vehicle hit the Southern bastion rampart and lifted up high in the air, crashing down inside the defensive cordon. The few remaining Byotai scattered as a group of Spires jumped out and opened fired, shooting from the hip. Two Byotai were killed as they ran, and then the small group of Spires spread out.

"To me!" Khan yelled.

Khan fired until his clip was empty and then ran directly at them, his retinue at his flanks. The Spires clan warriors had never seen such as assault. In seconds were all either dead or fleeing, joining the hundreds of others now streaming South into the dust cloud and away from the sporadic shooting coming from the wall. Khan removed the head cleanly from the last remaining Spires soldiers, stopping to catch his breath. The enemy was retreating all around him, all except the hundred of Red Scars who waited, looking furtively at the motley collection of defenders.

Okay, this is...weird.

Khan activated his communications unit.

"Kanjana, I need you here and fast."

"Understood."

Khan then checked on his comrades and was happy to see that although all of them were battered and their armour bloodied and scratched, they were all still on their feet and alive.

Where the hell is Spartan? He's missing one hell of a fight.

* * *

70Kms South of Melantias, Karnak

The sound of thousands of individuals preparing to move sent a continuous stream of shudders through the ground. Spartan kept as low as possible and looked down from their position at the side of the many large boulders. Even one was more than enough to hide an entire platoon of soldiers.

So, this is it, one commando platoon versus two entire clans. Sounds fair. Khan, my old friend, you're having it easy this time.

The depression moved them below the line of sight of the horizon, and the hundreds of boulders mixed with dust made it the perfect place to hide. In the middle of the depression was the pair of Maglev tracks, and at their sides a cleared open space nearly a hundred metres wide. There were dozens of caves and crags, and the mercenaries had already moved their Skiffs near the fronts of the caves, ready to push inside and out of view at a moment's notice.

A loud howl signalled that a hidden scout unit was approaching, and Spartan froze. Though only a few centimetres above the rock, he now relied completely upon the advanced three-layer chromatophore plating fitted to the surface of his M-3B armour. Since their arrival, the armour had shifted in tone until almost completely matching his surroundings. To the right he spotted them in the distance, perhaps five kilometres away. It was a trio of three-wheeled scout vehicles, presumably based on some of the many looted civilian vehicles taken from the Byotai.

What are they doing down there?

He had a perfect view of the Zuni and Kolchan clans moving slowly along the Maglev system. Escort vehicles were on each side of the line, the track system itself used to carry the bulk of the forces. The line of cars was massive, and Spartan counted dozens of the massive bulk carriers he'd read about on their way to Karnak. He spoke to Syala.

"Those are designed to carry machinery over long distances. Now look at the modifications."

He tagged specific sections of the vehicles, stopping to concentrate on the raised section in the middle of each car. There were more Zuni soldiers nearby, and he was struck by how the clan warriors had combined the look of their Spires comrades, but with uniforms and more flamboyant headgear. They couldn't have looked more different, and he suspected that was the only reason for the particular look.

They really do think they're superior, don't they?

Spartan looked again at the transport cars and moved along, checking the substantial modifications.

"That looks like a lookout post with gun ports attached. They are not taking chances."

Syala looked at it carefully for a second.

"Yeah, I think you're right. They knew raids like ours were possible, so they've up armoured their transports. Not as useless as Kras thought."

The name of the Byotai leader sent a shudder down Spartan's spine. He was all too familiar with the repercussions of what Kras had done. The Byotai leader was a classic reminder of never risking everything in a dangerous gamble. The Byotai now held Karnak by the thinnest of margins. Spartan spotted a single clan warrior opening a hatch and looking out into the distance.

"There must be more than a hundred soldiers in each, and they are tough, really tough. We can't hurt those things with our weapons. At least not without sacrificing our entire force."

Syala deactivated her faceplate for a moment so that Spartan could see her face.

"They will follow wherever we lead."

Spartan knew she was trying to help, but deep down Spartan doubted the mixed force would be willing to lay down all of their lives to fight the clans. This was not their world, and though they'd been paid a great deal of money, he suspected they would also like to be able to spend it.

They aren't dying out here in this wilderness.

"We will do what we can, and then withdraw and live to fight another day."

The two turned their attention back to the banners and insignia of these two new factions. They were unlike the clans he'd met before. He estimated their numbers were similar to those of the Exiles they had brought with them. There were supply depots back at the depression, but footage from the drones showed they were empty of all but a minor garrison. They had been constructed by the clans, and though large in size, were clearly temporary.

"Okay, so they were not planning on staying, that much we already knew, and it matches the reports and what is in front of us. These numbers are insane, and they are what, a day from the walls?"

He looked off to the left where there were scores of Byotai ground vehicles moving in three long columns. At their flanks were small groups of scouts, each looking for signs of traps or enemy units. The enemy was making good use of the rail system, as well as the dusty tracks that ran parallel with it to the North. Far off to the South was the city of Montu, and its underground rail network system that controlled the system in all directions. The double line of the Maglev rails running North and South were the only ones to interest Spartan at the moment. That single advanced rail system allowed Maglev trains to travel around Karnak at great speeds, or to help move heavy loads with the minimum of energy. Left unchecked it would allow not just this attack, but constant logistical aid to a major siege.

"If they keep that rail system operational, they will be able to ship troops and weapons to Melantias every hour. No defences can stand against continuous pressure like that."

Something unusual caught his eye in the middle of the convoy.

What are those?

Spartan altered the optical magnification on his visor. The view shuddered until the stabiliser kicked in and gave him a static, perfectly focused image. A section almost three hundred metres long was blocked off by a series of flat haulage cars filled with the equipment of war. Most were nondescript, but he spotted and tagged ten carrying large sections of heavy metal machinery the size of a crawler. The design was much like the siege weaponry he'd seen used in ground battles before. All of the units were fitted to an oversized metal body, bristling with studs and extra plates. Though not particularly unusual on Human planets, Spartan would never have expected to see Anicinàbe equipped with such weapons.

That is not good. Those cars are so massive they are using both sets of Maglev lines. They must be the Zuni clan.

Spartan had not seen the two new clans before, but the reports said the Zuni clan was one of the many fragments of the extinct ancient Anasazi civilisation, a precursor to the modern Anicinàbe. Unlike their kin, the Zuni considered them to be the noble heirs to the ancient empire, and still clung onto their methods of war. Where the Anicinàbe long ago moved to hit and run warfare, the Zuni still relied upon ground combat and heavy weaponry, much like the armies of the Confederacy back in the Uprising.

That thing must be at least three hundred millimetres in diameter, maybe more.

The size reminded Spartan of some of the Human super-heavy siege weapons of the war of humanity. Back then, these heavy weapons were the epitome of power, but not now. The weapon system was simple in design, but Spartan knew how dangerous such heavy siege mortars or howitzers would be in battle. A careful look confirmed there were ten of them, each fitted onto a trailer unit that itself was attached to a rail car sitting silently on the Maglev rail.

Spartan slid back behind the series of boulders and down the dust dune until he was well out of sight. On the other side, also well out of sight were his squad of twelve, as well as two of the Skiffs. He moved down and walked to towards them. The Khreenk soldier from the Dynax Alpha Team grunted, his voice then changed by the sophisticated voice changer. Their translator systems were by far the most advanced. They had seen the same imagery as Spartan, due to the ad-hoc shared networking of the Secgrid system.

"Those are Hesloss M7 superheavy rocket-assisted siege guns. Designed and manufactured by the Zuni clan. We bought two from them years ago. They are bad news, Major."

Spartan took in a short breath before speaking.

"I know. I tagged ten of them. But they have plenty more things we need to worry about."

"Yes," said the Khreenk mercenary, "The Zuni are here in force, and we will have to do something about them."

Spartan shook his head and looked behind him to the North where large numbers of the enemy were already moving away. These forces were following a different set of tracks that would follow a rougher, yet more direct route to Melantias. From that direction a low rumbling sound was already beginning to fade. Spartan nodded towards it and waited as the Khreenk soldier activated a unit on his backpack. A small device extended up on a long flexible, transparent cable, like a thin snake unfurling from its hiding place. The top lifted up over the boulder and sent live video back to the rest of the unit.

"No, my friend, I'm much more concerned with those," said Spartan.

They all looked on in silence until Syala said what they were all thinking.

"Lizards? Are you kidding me?"

The Khreenk warrior laughed quietly.

"So, it is true. The Kolchan are here, and they have brought their beasts with them."

He turned away from the footage and back to Syala and Spartan.

"The Kolchan live among these creatures and learn to hunt and ride them as children. They can cover more than a hundred kilometres in a single day, only resting at night. They will move swiftly and arrive with the energy to attack the walls."

Spartan ran his hand along his chin. Syala continued to watch the creatures, trying to count them before finally giving up.

"There are hundreds of them, and not all are mounted."

"True," said the Khreenk, "I have never seen this, but it is rumoured they have trained many of their native beasts to travel with them, to carry equipment and sometimes even to fight."

Spartan sighed as he double-checked the overhead imagery one last time. The immediate threat to Khan and his friends was this wave of Kolchan warriors. Combined with the Red Scars already near the walls, they would be able to throw thousands against the defences. He then brought up the imagery of the guns and the vast legions of the Zuni clan.

"The Zuni, Red Scars, and Kolchan will have enough between them to cripple Melantias and turn it to a wasteland. Once those siege guns are in position, the wall will be breached, and the civilians will plead for their lives. I doubt Nakoma will have to even lift a finger to end the battle."

Spartan's helmet was open, and though concerned, it was easy to see the beaming grin, even through the messy beard he now always sported.

"Khan will hold, no matter how many soldiers hit the walls. But not even he can hold against heavy siege guns. So we even the odds and hit the siege engines."

He then rubbed at his beard as he contemplated the plan.

"I want the Skiffs hidden and ready to get us out of here. The rest of us will deploy on the flanks, three hundred metres out from the tracks and wait."

The Khreenk soldier snorted.

"Why so far away? We cannot do enough damage that far back."

Spartan nodded.

"I know. But they will have scouts ahead of the column. I don't want to ambush them. I want the guns. We wait until they have moved past, and then blow the tracks and split off the guns from the rest of the convoy. Once stationary, we will hit them from behind."

Syala seemed especially pleased with that idea and signalled to a fireteam of her Widows.

"Set the charges here, here, and here."

The small group grabbed equipment from the middle of the nearest Skiff and moved off at a jog towards where the maglev track system waited. Spartan paused for a second until they'd vanished from view. He knew they'd need to be careful moving into the open space near the tracks, but they were professional and did not need to be babysitted. Syala gave him a reassuring look, quickly confirming that his assessment was correct.

"Good," said Spartan, "Hurry, they will be here within the hour."

Spartan then turned to the small group of squad leaders from the rest of the team.

"As for the rest of us, we have an hour to dig in. I want every one of us out of sight and inside the caves. Block off the entrances where possible, and wait."

A hole appeared in the front of the Khreenk soldier's face, and he slumped forwards, already dead from the gunshot. Above him, and with its feet resting on top of the rocky outcrop, was a red coloured bipedal creature. The thing was similar to the elephant-sized monsters used by the Red Scars, yet this one was smaller, with thin plated armour hanging down its flanks. On its back were two Kolchan warriors, carrying long rifles that were pointed directly at him.

"Scatter!"

Spartan rolled to the right as the bullets struck the ground. Another Khreenk mercenary took a round, and again the bullet easily penetrated his armour, much to Spartan’s surprise. Once in position, he took aim and fired a single round from his XC1 carbine. The plasma punched through the underside of the monster and exploded deep into its flesh. The thing screeched in pain and then leapt down, snapping and hacking away with its long forearms.

"Stay back!" Syala shouted.

She used the thrusters on her pack to crash down in front of Spartan and opened fire with the weapons on both arms. A few of the others joined in, but the arrival of five more creatures of different heights and shapes completely threw them into confusion. Spartan jumped back up, fired twice more, and then rushed at the creature. The riders must have been taken back by Spartan's antics and hesitated. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get Spartan close.

"My turn, beast!"

Spartan ducked around its attacks and thrust the muzzle of his carbine at the creature’s neck. This time he squeezed the trigger repeatedly until finally the neck split in two, and the monster’s head lay shattered on the ground. Muscle memory kept the body flapping about, but the riders were face down in the ground, one already dead.

"I have him!" cried out one of Syala's mercenaries.

The Black Widow came down from a height of five metres and landed feet first onto the unfortunate soldier's back. He groaned in pain that was short lived. The Widow didn't hesitate and put a single aimed round into the back of his head before throwing a look to Spartan. Hidden behind the armour it was impossible to tell quite what this woman was trying to show him.

"Look out!" said another of the Widows.

Two more reptilian creatures were in amongst them, and while the warriors of the other two mercenary outfits stayed back and fired, the Widows did the opposite. Using the manoeuvrability of their packs, they were able to leap from boulder to boulder, firing as they went. The other creatures were felled, but with the element of surprise lost, Spartan knew they had already failed. A volley of thermal rifles killed the final creature, and for a second there was calm. A boost of rocket power announced the landing of Syala, and she deactivated her visor to speak with him.

"More are coming from the North. We're encircled."

Spartan knew what they needed to do without even thinking about it.

"To the Skiffs, and then follow my lead!"

They were on board the vehicles and powering up the engines when the next group of Sekieki creatures appeared. They were an odd mixture, most being bipedal. As Spartan gave the order to move out, a pair of much larger Sekieki came into view. These were massive, squat, four-legged, and in their own way looked less savage, apart from their size and armour plates fitted on their flanks. Their heads were larger, yet their jaws and teeth much smaller. More layers of armour covered most of the remaining features. Atop were three riders with two huddled around a weapon emplacement.

"Move it!"

The Skiffs accelerated away from boulders as the hardened metal slugs struck all around. Spartan turned back and raked one of the creatures with his carbine, and then they were gone. He turned back to check on the others and counted four more Skiffs, giving them five in total.

"Syala, where is..."

Spartan said no more as he spotted the sixth and final Skiff blast out from the boulders. Right behind it were two of the smaller animals, and they were moving fast. Spartan took aim, tagged the nearest, and opened fire. Plasma struck along its flank, but still it kept moving. The crew then both unleashed such a rattling volley that struck the Skiff from front to back.

"No!" Syala screamed.

The Widow joined in with the fire as the other Skiffs circled, doing their best to cover the crippled Skiff. Its engine system was shredded, and the rear caught fire as it dropped from the sky. With nothing but forward momentum keeping the thing moving, it lost height and hit the ground hard.

Damn it!

Spartan pointed to his fallen comrades.

"All units beat them back. Skiff Charlie, pick up the wounded and do it fast."

Three Skiffs rushed in at speed, their crews blasting away with their myriad of weapons. Thermal weapons punched holes in the armour of the creatures, and the high-energy weapons of the Khreenk exploded rock and flesh with equal ease. By the time the other two vehicles reached the crashed Skiff, there were but two survivors. The crew hauled them inside, while the gunfire from the circling commandos crashed about them, keeping the enemy away. Every second meant more time for additional creatures to arrive, and Spartan kept looking from left to right, half expecting to see their position completely surrounded. The depression might have offered useful cover, but it also left them hidden from view and unable to watch for signs of hidden enemy units.

"That was...interesting," said Syala, "What now? Back to Melantias?"

The formation of five Skiffs was wide, and each jinked from left to right, always making it difficult for any enemy to strike at them as they exited the rock formation to the South.

"Uh, Spartan, that's not the way to Melantias."

Spartan shook his head and replied through his teeth.

"I know. There's one last thing to do."

He turned and looked to her, his faceplate open and his expression stern.

"Prepare the demolition charges. We'll perform a single run and take out those siege guns. Get ready."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Some races are more pliable than others, both mentally and physically. The first Thegns were constructed from material harvested directly from the cadavers of the Helion and T'Kari people. Initially, they were shells to test new technologies, but when war broke out amongst our people, both sides attempted to construct more powerful warriors. Some were pure biological constructs, others moved in the direction of machinery and technology. In the end, both failed, with the very technology used to destroy from within.

Taken from the accounts of Z'Kanthu, Warlord of The Twelve

70Kms South of Melantias, Karnak

Spartan held his breath as they moved cautiously along the track. The Skiffs were relatively silent, and at this speed left no tell-tale dust trail that could be followed. The creatures of the vanguard were now three kilometres away, and he knew this was their only chance.

"Now!"

The five hovering Skiffs slid sideways from the parallel track five hundred metres away from the Maglev line and pushed their engines to the maximum. A great roar engulfed them as the engines burned hot, and they lifted up higher from the ground. The occupants held on tightly for fear of being thrown out. The group immediately ran into a pair of small vehicles filled with clan warriors. The occupants of the Skiffs raked them with gunfire as they passed, leaving both riddled with bullet holes and burning. Then they were streaming off to the West and the advancing column of clan forces. Spartan turned his attention to the long column ahead and tagged the targets.

"Accelerate to attack speed. Target their escorts and ready the charges. We get one chance at this."

He looked back at the warriors in his own Skiff. The heavily armoured Human, Helion, and Khreenk mercenaries were quite a sight. Spartan barely knew some of them but could already see the great skills they brought to the fight.

"One pass and then we head home, to Melantias." 

The Skiffs moved at their maximum speed as they hurled themselves at the flanks of the railcars. Spartan could feel his heart pounding as he looked out at the huge formation that included railcars as far as the eye could see. Crawlers separated from the formation to give chase, but it was too late.

"Punch it, use everything we've got!"

The Skiffs were so fast that few of the enemy gunshots came anywhere near them. Even so, the occasional hardened slug would strike the flanks and ricochet off into the distance. Two of the Helion soldiers were hit centre mass and thrown back to the rear of the Skiffs. One was killed instantly, the second badly injured. One round cut across Spartan's chest and left a gash in the outer skin.

"You're hit," said Syala.

Her voice registered concern, but not so much that she left her post. Spartan glanced down and shook his head.

"The armour can take it. Give it an hour, and it'll be as good as new."

The defensive fire from the railcars was incredible. At least a dozen defenders fired from each of them, and the view reminded Spartan of the many times he'd been brought into action inside a landing craft or dropship. Sparks rippled past the Skiffs as near hits left their marks, and then they were at the Maglev tracks. The railcars were connected together, presumably to help move the massive loads, and moving at nearly twenty kilometres per hour.

"Break and attack!" Spartan gave the order.

The five Skiffs moved between the railcars and used their lift engines to move up high enough to pass overhead. The crew threw out their demolition charges, and then they were through. Spartan glanced back over his shoulder and waved his arm at his comrades. All five Skiffs had made it and were now weaving through the escorts. The smaller scout vehicles did their best, but with so many friendlies in the area, it was too risky to take many shots for fear of hitting the valuable loads on the tracks.

"Now!"

The mercenaries activated their charges, and one by one they detonated. The Maglev lines were severed at two points, and Spartan noted with satisfaction that three of the ten railcars were burning. Ten seconds later one of them exploded, sending burning debris in all directions, and an entire series of secondary blasts followed. He counted the railcars in his head and almost choked.

"Great job, people. We've bought our friends an hour, maybe two, and at least half of those guns are down."

He turned back and looked to the North.

"To Melantias."

* * *

Fortress of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

Khan and his entourage of Blood Pack warriors walked along the wall, stepping over debris and making notes on the condition of the defences. It was pitch-black now, and the wall was lit by hundreds of lamps fitted in the most bizarre of positions. Every hundred metres he found a squad on watch, and with each of them, he checked their status and weaponry. They all looked up at the Jötnar with awe. Each of the guard unit was covered from head to toe in the thick plating of the Blood Pack. The grey metal was now stained with the blood and carnage of battle, and as was normal for the Jötnar, left that way until the battle was over. A videostream request arrived on his visor, and he quickly accepted.

Olik.

"Khan. We've finished filling the breaches, and the Pack are in position. I've detached a single squad to watch the prisoners, but they are getting unruly. Governor Nak Sekieki is not happy about them, not at all. He wants the Red Scars locked away underground or shot."

Khan grunted in answer, much to Olik's annoyance.

"I don't give a damn what he wants. You know what Spartan would say."

Khan heard a noise, something like the crunching of broken stone.

"Oh, there's somebody you might want to speak with," said Olik.

Another voice spoke, and for a second he thought it was in his earpiece.

"Khan."

He turned around and there was Spartan, resplendent in his M3B armour, with his XC1 carbine slung and his visor open. The reinforced metal collar had taken a number of hits, and one section had broken clean off. Khan walked to his friend and bear hugged him so tightly that both of their armour creaked from the strain.

"Looking pretty as always."

They separated, and Khan's expression changed from pleasure to irritation.

"I didn't know you were back."

Spartan seemed unfazed by Khan's displeasure.

"I've been back nearly an hour."

Khan's visor was up, and though only part of his face was visible, Spartan could tell he was not happy. Spartan tried to reconcile him with a disarming smile.

"Friend. We took heavy losses in the attack, one Skiff gone and fifteen dead. Syala took a round to the hip. She's being operated on now. I promise you, she is seriously angry. I expect her back in action within a day, no more."

Khan shook his head in annoyance.

"More than a third gone in a single raid, even for you that is heavy losses."

He was clearly unhappy, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"What did you find out there?"

Spartan turned to his right and looked out to the front of the wall. The bastion was already undergoing repair, and work crews were busily filling in gaps made to the ramparts. Small groups of soldiers were loading weapons and equipment into the long trench, and even more carried crates of ammunition to the forward mortar positions.

"A lot. It's not good, my friend. I've arranged for Arana and the Governor to meet us in fifteen minutes to prepare the final plan. I need you with us. You can tell me about these Red Scars on the way."

The two moved to the nearest set of steps and proceeded to work their way down. Even though they were wide, it took the Blood Pack a little longer, due to their great bulk and oversized feet. Spartan couldn't wait any longer and had to ask.

"Tell me, what about you, Olik and the others? I heard the fighting was, heavy?"

Khan grinned widely.

 "You missed one hell of a fight. They came at us like a wave, just like old times. Not much in the way of artillery, just wave attacks by the Red Scars. Our militia took losses, and some of the Red Scars broke past the trench, but none got through the wall."

Spartan would have expected him to be a little happier but could see something unnerved him.

"What is it?"

Khan took three more steps before answering as he considered his words.

"The Red Scars. They are animals, and we have no love for them. But the Spires were using them at meat shields, nothing more."

He stopped and leaned in to Spartan.

"When they were past us, they threw down their weapons and stopped fighting. I think the Spires have made them their slaves."

They continued down the steps, and Spartan shrugged as he thought about the odd turn of events.

"Maybe this is to our advantage. The enemy of our enemy..."

Khan laughed loudly, recalling this was exactly what he thought Spartan would say.

"What?" Spartan asked, feigning insult.

"Is my friend?"

Spartan struck Khan's chest plate with his armoured fist.

"Exactly."

* * *

It didn't seem that long ago that Spartan and the others had been underground. The position might be deep under the surface, but being so far from the others left Spartan with an uncomfortable feeling. He looked away from the group and towards his comrades. Kanjana was there, along with Arana and Khan. Spartan took in a single, long breath and then focussed his attention on Governor Nak Sekieki and his group of officers. They were in the middle of the heavily reinforced underground room, and on a raised plinth above the floor. All around them on long plinths and moveable arms were dozens of displays, some of which seemed as old and battered as the mining facility itself. On these screens were images of the defences used in the battle. There were static shots identifying the high-points of the battle, and the areas where the enemy had come close to penetrating the second layer of defences. There were also images of parts of the battle, plus scans taken directly from Spartan's commandos.

"Those are the guns, huh?" Khan asked.

Most of them were busy looking at the siege guns, and the Governor seemed especially nervous.

The Byotai leader moved towards Spartan and Khan and shook his head. As before, Kanjana translated, doing her best to avoid imitating his clear exasperation.

"The wall is ready and the defences finished as you requested."

He turned and pointed at the screen showing the aftermath of Spartan's attack.

"It seems you destroyed half the guns and damaged the tracks. They will still be here in the morning, and five of those guns could be enough to win this battle for them."

He moved to the right where another screen showed a starmap of the Tenth Quadrant.

"General Makos has been forced to withdraw from Medamud. Migrants escaping the fighting in the Anicinàbe core territories have crossed the border in large numbers. He says one large group are moving in around the debris field, and their ships show signs of battle damage. It would appear the violence is weakening them."

"Migrants?" Arana asked, "There's not a lot of difference between mass-migration like this, and invasion. I've seen the reports about an event in the heart of Anicinàbe space. You're saying it is causing an outward expansion. An escape from danger, how do you know it is not the prelude for full-scale war?"

Governor Nak Sekieki twisted about and spoke quietly with his bodyguard. He looked up several times and seemed especially interested in Spartan. After what seemed an age, he turned his attention back to the group.

"We are unsure. Information inside Anicinàbe territories is unreliable. All we know is that Tahkeome and his ships escaped during the last fighting at Medamud. He must be returning to deal with this...event."

He opened and closed his mouth three times, each time gulping in cooler air.

"General Makos is therefore moving to our border with the Empire. Fresh transports will come through to reinforce our garrisons throughout the sector."

"That's great," complained Spartan, "So now we have no ships watching the blockade. That makes defending this city even more critical."

He noticed Arana lifting her eyebrows at his sarcasm.

"Subtle," she said under her breath.

Spartan tried to smile, but he looked even grimmer than normal.

"None of this matters right now. We have what, six hours until the first units of these two clans hit us, maybe less if they get their fingers out. You saw my imagery. The columns are massive, and they are hauling some serious firepower. If they succeed, then Makos and the others will be wasting their time. The future of Karnak stands with us here, today. I need every single soldier on the walls and ready. We must show strength and resolve, or the Anicinàbe will simply regroup and try again."

Spartan knew the next thing would be contentious, but it had to be said. Kanjana translated, and with every word the Governor seemed to become sterner.

"I want every single soldier at the defences, and I don't care who they are. Byotai, half-bloods, Anicinàbe, Khreenk, everybody!"

"You cannot put Anicinàbe animals on my walls. I will not allow it."

Kanjana sounded quite polite, making it almost seem a request, but the expression on the Byotai's face said the exact opposite. Arana stepped in, putting herself between Spartan and Governor Nak Sekieki.

"Can you call upon air cover, anything at all? Two or three bombing runs could cause significant damage and buy us some time."

Governor Nak Sekieki twisted his head in the manner he'd learnt from the Humans.

"No. We are all that remains to fight the enemy. I sent the last fighters to the East to look for occupied settlements. They have not returned. Perhaps you could use your three dropships?"

Spartan shook his head angrily while the Byotai leader continued talking, and with every word, the group of mercenaries were becoming just as annoyed. Governor Nak Sekieki's throat croaked, but finally, after what seemed like an age, there were no more words. Spartan looked to his own people, but Khan snapped, unable to take any more.

"That is enough."

The interior lights flickered, and then one of the junior officers began saying the same word over and over. Spartan moved closer, and Kanjana stepped in front of him.

"Air defence system has picked up targets."

Spartan licked his lips."

"How many?"

Governor Nak Sekieki looked at the screen, and then moved around and placed his hands on the nearby rail. In this position he was raised half a metre above the others and had the perfect position from which to look down at them. The video images changed to show high-altitude imagery from the long-range camera fitted on the drones. As they moved closer, two went dark, but one more remained long enough to show what they needed to see.

"Nakoma has landed substantial ground forces ten kilometres away. Drones show she is ferrying in troops from Montu. This is the end."

He looked up, giving the impression he was calling up to a deity.

"The Zuni and Kolchan will soon be in range, and the Spires are poised to finish the job. The siege is over, Spartan. I suggest you carry out whatever tasks are required before death, and make yourselves ready for the end."

Spartan looked to Khan and then lurched forwards, grabbed Governor Nak Sekieki and yanked him over the edge. The frail Byotai landed on his back and groaned in pain. The Governor's bodyguard reached for their weapons, but Spartan, Khan, and the others were already there. Spartan pointed his carbine at the head of the Governor. At the same time the air-raid warning sounded, the great speakers warning of the impending gloom to every quarter of Melantias.

"I am taking over the defence of this city. You will keep your hands to yourself until this is over."

He reached down and lifted Governor Nak Sekieki to his feet.

"Understand?"

The Byotai answered in quiet, but desperate sounding words. Kanjana spoke for him.

"He understands."

Spartan licked up upper lip that had suddenly become so dry, and then spat on the floor.

"Good. Get him to send word to the rest of the city, and then follow me."

Khan grabbed Spartan's shoulder.

"To where?"

Spartan activated his visor, encasing himself in armour.

"To the surface, old friend, we have a battle to win."

The group moved to the entrance of the elevator, but stopped when Spartan noticed the other Byotai waiting below ground.

"No, I don't think so. This control centre, or whatever you call it, is closed. Shut the entire thing down and join us on the surface. You'll live or die with the city."

With that, they climbed into the large elevator and waited until every one of them was inside. Just as it started to lift, the lights went out on the secure underground room. Governor Nak Sekieki was silent, but Spartan saw the anger in his alien eyes. They made it almost halfway to the surface when Arana asked the question all of them were wondering.

"What about the Red Scars? We've got at least three hundred locked up in the tool shelters behind the wall."

Spartan and Khan shared a look, and Arana knew what they were thinking without one of them having to say a word. She decided to speak for them.

"They will have their chance to prove themselves."

Kanjana seemed surprised to hear this.

"Spartan, is that wise? The Red Scars are the least trusted of all my kin. They have no loyalty to me, you, or anybody in this city."

The elevator came to a stop, and the door slid open to reveal two narrow lines of mercenaries from the Black Widows, Helion 5, and Dynax Corporation. All of them moved aside with the speed and precision expected from a unit out on parade. Spartan, Khan, and Arana were first out, with Khan standing in the centre. By the time they'd reached the end of the wide corridor, the sounds of battle were audible. One large shape blocked their way outside.

"Olik, what's happening?"

The Jötnar seemed out of breath.

"Their guns are longer ranged than we thought. It's started."

As if to emphasise the point, the first volley of rocket assisted shells rushed overhead and exploded harmlessly against the thick rock of the Stone Hills. Some of the armed settlers shouted. Panic could set in at any moment. Spartan turned to face the rest of the unit that had exited the elevator.

"Get to your positions, and send out the command. We hold the wall, no matter what they throw at us."

The group separated, but Olik lifted his hand to stop Spartan speeding by.

"What about the Blood Pack and our prisoners? I've got to..."

Spartan grabbed his friend's arm.

"Split the Pack. I want half on the walls, and half in reserve. They will be needed when the wall is breached."

Olik looked surprised.

"Breached. I thought..."

Spartan laughed.

"Oh, they will be coming in. The only question is how many will make it any further?"

"And the prisoners?"

Spartan lifted his carbine and activated the energy pack.

"Take me to them. I have something to ask them."

* * *

The tool shelters were actually more like aircraft hangars, with thick walls and curved ceilings nearly a metre thick. The doors were wide and guarded by two large groups of Exiles. They waited in silence as Spartan, Kanjana, and Khan approached. One in particular moved directly in front of them and placed his staff so that it touched the ground between the three.

"Spartan...Khan...and you."

The bareheaded Byotai half-blood looked at them both with expressionless eyes. One was hidden behind a patch, and there was a fresh cut across his chin. The sound of his voice as he looked at Kanjana was odd and left a chill in the air.

"Tenskwatawa," said Spartan, "What are you doing here?"

The leader waited for a second, eyeing up the two warriors. Spartan looked as big as him, but wearing his advanced M3B armour and brandishing the odd looking XC1 Carbine. Khan, on the other hand, was a giant, yet even Tenskwatawa seemed far from being intimidated.

"The Red Scars are animals and are responsible for the deaths of many of my kin. It was them that deposed so many of us before the last war."

Spartan wasn't sure what confused him the most, the fact that Tenskwatawa was here, guarding the prisoners, or that he was now speaking English with an almost flawless accent.

"Tenskwatawa, the last Anicinàbe or Byotai that spoke my tongue so well was Tahkeome."

Tenskwatawa lowered his head but said nothing.

"I see," said Spartan, "In any case, I've taken control of Melantias. Return to your kin and prepare them for battle. Nakoma is coming, and battle is soon to begin."

Tenskwatawa paused and then turned away. With a click of his fingers, the other Exiles joined him and away they went. Khan muttered as he moved from view.

"I don't trust that one, not at all."

Spartan nodded in firm agreement.

"Khan, I couldn't argue with that."

He then pressed the button on the side of the massive doors and entered the spherical code sequence. The doors began to slide open, and both stepped inside, completely oblivious to the fact that three hundred or more Red Scars were waiting there. Khan braced himself for a fight, but Spartan walked in as though he was visiting a store. Kanjana followed them, with her hand waiting on her hip in case she needed to draw a weapon.

"What now?" she asked.

Spartan stopped and deactivated his helm. The visor hissed quietly as it folded away, and he waited for his eyes to adjust. The nearest members of the group came closer. Spartan nodded to Kanjana.

"Translate."

She nodded twice and waited, her hands still low and ready.

"I am Major Spartan, and I am in charge here. I don't care who you are, or why you surrendered. All I offer is the chance for battle against the Spires and their soldiers. I make no promises, and I offer you nothing in return."

One of the Red Scars moved out into the light. His body was cut, and jewellery hung all over his face. His eye sockets were filthy and body armour dented and battered. Yet for all of this, he was fully upright and moved with the agility unique to his kind. Spartan turned his full attention on this one figure.

"So tell me, soldier. What is it that you want?"

Kanjana said the words, and still there was silence in the storage area. The Red Scar warrior reached inside his cloth and tugged. Blood dripped down but hidden behind a flap of skin came a blade. Kanjana had already seen it and lifted her sidearm just as the Red Scar drew the blade across the inside of his hand. Spartan remained unmoved and waited patiently.

"Well, what will it be?"

The warrior looked back and said a few quiet words to his kin. A chatter spread throughout the large number; that was when Spartan saw three hundred was a much too low estimate. There was easily double that number. The figure looked back at him and moved closer. He was now near enough to jam the blade into Spartan if he so desired it.

"We fight."

Spartan smiled and leaned over to Khan.

"Tell the Byotai to stand down."

He then looked to Kanjana.

"They might not like us, but they hate the Spires more. We can use that."

Kanjana did not seem impressed.

"What if they had refused? They might have attacked us."

Spartan laughed and nodded to the light outside the storage shelters.

"Olik is out there, with thirty Blood Pack and an entire company of Byotai militia. Don't worry, I'm no fool."

He then signalled for them to follow him back to the light. He made it halfway but turned back to look at the Red Scars still hiding in the blackness. Khan called out to them in his gruff, angry voice.

"I have weapons and armour for you. Follow me."

Spartan and Kanjana watched as the large group of Red Scars, some of the most fearsome warriors in the Anicinàbe arsenal, left the shelter and followed like a tour group. Khan marched them to the sally port and took them outside and in front of the walls.

"Weapons?" Kanjana asked, "What weapons?"

Spartan positively beamed.

"The ground in front of the wall is littered with them. Like I said, I offer them nothing but the chance for revenge. The rest they can do themselves."

He said something else, but another volley of rocket-assisted shells came down, and this time one struck the wall with an almighty crash. Kanjana stumbled right into Spartan and knocked them both to the ground. Spartan shook his head as he stood up.

"Okay, that was heavy. We need to get to the top of the wall. It has begun."

* * *

Spartan waited on the wall, with Khan and Kanjana at his side. They were able to look along the defences and at the many towers that jutted out. The wall curved upwards rather than a simple vertical surface, as a protective measure against storms and earthquakes.

"That was...impressive," said Spartan.

Khan continued to gaze out to the South.

"We're still here, aren't we?"

It was now the sixth hour of the bombardment of Melantias, and for many unlike anything they had seen before. To Spartan and Khan it was just another siege on another world. Spascia, Helios Prime, New Carlos City, and so many more had all fallen to the curse of siege warfare. Now Melantias could be added to that list. Kanjana moved away for a few seconds and spoke with a Black Widow, who promptly moved back along the wall to join her unit. Kanjana returned to the two of them.

"Two units of civilians have broken and withdrawn from the trenches."

Spartan shook his head. Khan growled in irritation.

"I said this at the start. These are not soldiers. When it comes to it, they are not ready for battle. They need to do more than stand; they need to be able to kill."

Spartan pointed to where the enemy was hidden just out of range and partially obscured by the dust that built up into a wall far into the distance. Every thirty minutes, the skyline would flash yellow, and the volley of three rocket-assisted shells launched. They were due for another attack at any moment. Spartan spotted the flashes.

"Here it comes."

Seconds later the powerful shells came down and struck the bastion, trench works, and wall. They both clung to the wall as the ground shook violently. Sections of the battlements crumbled and fell down, while a single section of the wall groaned.

"That's not good," said Khan.

He leaned over the edge and looked down. This part lay between two of the towers and was one of the strongest sections of the wall. A third of the entire height split and dropped down into a heap at the foot of the wall. The fallen debris created a rocky ramp that led up to the damaged section.

"Yeah. I'm amazed the wall lasted more than a single volley."

Spartan looked behind the wall where the rocky outcrops of the Stone Hills provided additional protection for the underground city. Fires ranges in dozens of places, and he observed many groups rushing about with water to douse the flames.

"Your secondary defences, are they strong?"

Khan nodded slowly.

"There are barricades at the entrance to the Melantias settlements, along with weapon stores. It's three metres tall and strong. Without the extra hours you bought us, we'd have nothing but a damaged wall."

Spartan seemed pleased with that. He tried to speak, but the wall shook again as more shells crashed against the same section of wall.

"The defenders, are they capable of fighting?"

Khan shrugged.

"I've spent days drilling them. Every one of them has been trained to fight. They can shoot, put out fires, and use a blade in a rudimentary way."

He tried to look reassuring.

"Put it this way. If Nakoma had assaulted us two days ago, we'd already be in chains. Hell, if she'd brought all ten of those guns, this would have been over. Somehow you knocked out seven of them. That's impressive, even for you."

Spartan laughed and looked back to the South. The firing had stopped, and he used that opportunity to survey the damage. After twelve heavy bombardments, he was amazed the wall was intact. The Nanocrystal skin had proven incredibly strong, and though there were signs of damage, there was still only the one breach.

"Look," said Khan.

He pointed up and both watched in silence at two black shapes high in the sky. They were small, but even from here Khan knew what they were.

"Confederate Class ships. How?"

Spartan grinned.

"I sent the word to Gun."

Khan shook his head.

"But we've made promises to Alliance High Command, the Anicinàbe, and the Byotai. Under no circumstances can we put IAB boots on the ground. If we do so, that would be considered an act of war by both sides."

"Yeah," agreed Khan, but his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Cheers ran along the wall and out to the forward trench and bastion. Khan lifted his arm as the excitement spread like wildfire among them all. The Iron brothers looked back from their new position at the bastion, along with two-dozen Blood Pack warriors, and hundreds of Exiles and Red Scar warriors.

"That is one beautiful sight," said Khan.

The eight Jackal MK II Assault Dropships came in almost vertically; with their engines directed backwards and upper missile mounts fully extended. They unleashed dozens of laser-guided rockets to the formations on the ground. There was no sound at first, just scores of flashes off into the distance as they hit one target after another. Then came the sounds of explosions and the hammering of the pair of gun turrets.

"I knew those would come in handy at some point."

Kanjana shook her head in amazement.

"You think you'll get away with this?"

Spartan tried to come up with an amusing comeback but was distracted by an urgent notification appearing inside his visor. He accepted, and an image of Arana appeared.

"Good work on the air cover. I've signalled for Gun to get them back on board fast. The less time they spend here, the less chance they have of being identified."

"Yeah, good plan. What's up?"

Another ripple of explosions filled the horizon, one yellow right where the siege guns had been positioned. Spartan wanted to shout out the good news, but it seemed everybody already knew what had happened.

"Look, Spartan. We've got a problem. The breach at section four has widened. It's big enough to march a full company through. I've got a squad of Exiles working on it, but its going to need at least three hours to get something even close to workable."

Spartan began to answer, and then stopped as he watched a single shell begin its descent from its high apex. He'd missed the launch of this one. It must have been fired just seconds before the air attack started. The shell came down at high speed and aligned perfectly with the previous impacts.

Not good.

The shell came in low, with its rocket motor firing one last time to give it a final boost in speed and hitting power. It hit just inside the breached section of wall. Five minutes earlier the area was nothing but wall, but now it was filled with groups of Exiles and Byotai settlers, working shoulder-to-shoulder to fix the damage. The group of exhausted individuals slaved away atop the five-metre high mound of rubble. It was all that remained of this section and served as a large ramp that led inside Melantias.

Here is comes.

The entire area vanished in a white flash and for a brief moment blocked his vision. It was an automatic defence mechanism, and part of the shielding system built into the lenses on his armour, much like a welding helmet. As the light subsided, his vision returned, and the view of the carnage became clearer.

"No."

Spartan leaned over the top of the wall and looked out at the breach. It was even larger now, but much worse was that the entire area was covered with a white, noxious cloud.

"White phosphorous. That is barbaric," said Khan.

The powdery smoke covered an area hundreds of metres in all directions. Burning hot, it was incapable of causing much damage to the walls, but it did cover clothing, armour, weapons, and flesh in a burning material. The smoke filled lungs and blinded any exposed to the material. Dozens of workers staggered about, some covered in the white, burning powder and screaming in agony.

"Listen," said Spartan.

Far off into the distance, yet not as far as Spartan would have liked was the sound of cheering. The chorus echoed like a sports crowd calling on their favourite team. With each shout, the sound became louder and angrier. Khan crashed his fists together and then checked his Thumper. He reached forward and grabbed both Spartan and Kanjana with one arm, pulling them close to his chest. Spartan was silent, but Kanjana let out a grown from the squeeze. He then released them and lifted his weapon to his shoulder.

"It's time, my friend. This will be a fight to remember. Make sure Olik is with the rearguard."

Khan nodded.

"He is, and the Iron brothers are commanding the volunteers in the primary bastion. They will hold as long as possible and then withdraw through the sally ports."

Spartan felt his throat go dry at the mention of the primary bastion. It was a strong position, but he had no doubt that it would fall and anybody left inside killed. Escape would require careful timing and coordination.

Spartan activated the command network on the Secgrid.

"This is Spartan. The wall is breached, and they are coming for us. Stay at your posts and hold your ground. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to flee. Only battle, and victory can save us now. We can do this, if we work together."

That was as much as he intended on saying, but Khan gave him a disappointed look. Spartan shook his head and reactivated the communications unit.

"For Melantias!"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The violence occurring in the Tenth Quadrant meant very little to the men and women of the Alliance. The bulk of the population lived on the other side of the galaxy, far away from the alien worlds and their troubles. Even the Great Biomech War had thankfully occurred away from the core worlds of the Alliance. Was it so surprising then that when both the Byotai and Anicinàbe fought for this region, many in the Alliance wanted to wash their hands of the problem?

Orion – The Future?

South of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

The two groups of aircraft at first appeared to be well matched, and Nakoma bit her tongue with the anticipation of the kill. Blood ran freely in her mouth, and she let a few drips run down her chin. The new arrivals had come in fast and performed a substantial amount of damage before turning away to the West.

"Hunt them down. Do not let them escape!"

The fifteen Abn'dak dropships moved away from escorting the great airborne force of Spires warriors and towards the snub-nosed vessels. The Abn'daks were fast, agile, and perfectly suited to low-level dog fighting, whereas the new arrivals were large and cumbersome. Even so, as the Abn'daks gave pursuit, the unidentified spacecraft activated their launch engines and manoeuvred into a high-angle ascent, ready to move up into orbit.

Nakoma shook her head angrily as she watched the group of eight unidentified gunships climb up to rejoin their ships. Her lip quivered with anger as her own fighters struggled to chase them and failed. Several fired missiles, but even they could not match the acceleration of the four-engined spacecraft.

Fools. How could they let this happen?

The craft shuddered, and she was forced to grip even more tightly as her Ma'heen armoured gunship and its escort broke away from the main group, sweeping in low over the advancing Anicinàbe forces. She glanced back and smiled to herself at the great fleet of aircraft she'd assembled. There were scores of Abn'dak dropships and a dozen of the much larger Ma'heen armoured gunships.

They are still too late. The wall is breached, and the clans will break their way inside. When the time is right, I will strike.

The dust cloud was beginning to thin out, and Nakoma had the perfect view of the attack. Her interest was on the distant grey line that was the Byotai Wall around the Southern side of Melantias. It moulded itself in and around the rocky outcrops and cliffs running along the sides of the hills. More, taller hills protected the other three sides, making the only feasible area to strike on this one front. Smoke rose all round it, and its entire length was engulfed in the small flashes of small arms.

Good, very good.

She looked off to the left where the combined forces of the two newly arrived clans were assembled and moving at great speed. They had little in common with her Spires in terms of equipment and tactics, but at least they seemed to have the right idea. The Zuni were moving inside their armoured transports; large, multi-wheeled machines that carried a full company at a time. At their flanks were the massed soldiers and creatures of the Zuni clan.

That is...not quite what I expected.

She had seen the use of these ancient beasts by the Red Scars but never witnessed such great herds of the things. They varied in size, some ridden and others moving of their own accord. Tahkeome had originally arranged for the four clans to move to Karnak to secure the planet, and though she'd rather have done it alone, she now felt a little satisfaction at being given overall command to such a horde. Nakoma grabbed the communicator and called out to her assembled warriors below.

"Unleash all remaining ordnance!"

Every single short and medium range gun the Zuni had brought opened fire, many using up their last few rounds of ammunition. The sky turned to fire as hundreds perhaps thousands of rounds came down, almost scattering the defences on the broken wall. When the last of the bombardment was over, Nakoma began to laugh, enjoying the scene of fire and smoke more than she ever thought possible. She connected to her own clan first.

"Move to the holding area and await my command."

She then contacted the sub commanders of the Zuni and Kolchan clans.

"Commence the assault. Do not stop until the city burns."

That thought made her body tingle. Knowing the last Byotai fortress was minutes from defeat sent spasms of pleasure through her body.

Melantias will be mine, and so will Karnak.

"Leave none alive!"

* * *

Kanjana ducked down, but even her great speed was not enough to stop the hardened spike from striking her left shoulder. The metal buckled and then glanced off, leaving a deep scar in the plating and Thegn armour. She staggered backwards, managing to right herself just in time to watch three more strike Khan. Spartan had twisted behind one of the remaining stone barricades and avoided the worst of it.

"You okay?" Khan asked.

Kanjana nodded, and then moved to the broken crenulations and took aim with her C1 Carbine.

"Right! This is getting irritating."

Kanjana opened fire with three shots in quick succession. Spartan glanced downwards. A marksman was blown backwards from a vehicle and landed flat on his back in the dust.

"Nice shooting."

From here the three of them had the perfect few as the first major assault began. The mounted troops of the Kolchan clan, as well as their hordes of beasts ran through the channels created between the bastions. They moved quickly and blasted away at any defenders caught out in the open or in the last line of trenches.

"Khan, the hidden trenches, you finished them, right?"

There was no time for an answer, and Spartan watched in silence as the first wave made it to within a hundred metres of the trench, where dozens of Byotai and Red Scar warriors waited. The great Sekieki beasts were fast, and the ground shook as they collapsed the hidden pits with their weight. Beneath them were carefully hidden mines and traps that entangled the beasts and then activated. Dozens were killed, but many more survived, albeit badly wounded and enraged. Those that made it through crashed into the trenches, and their passengers leapt off, guns blazing and blade flashing.

"Look," said Khan.

Spartan turned his attention off to the nearest bastion where the two brothers were commanding. Smoke covered three sides as they defended their position like soldiers in an old fort. A group of Kolchan beasts were climbing up the Southern slope, and facing them were a dozen Blood Pack, each blasting away and swinging clubs and blades.

Spartan checked the overview map of the defences and tagged multiple reserve units to move to new broken sections of the wall. Both of them wanted to be on the ground, getting stuck into the pitched battle, but knew commanding the battle was more important right now. Khan, Spartan, and Arana had split command of the defences between them, and so far there were no major breaks in the line.

"Arana, I need two squads of mercenaries to support the Iron brothers; they're getting hit hard to the South."

"I'm on it."

Spartan and Khan looked to each other, and Spartan almost relaxed for a moment.

"So far so good."

"Why did you say that?" Kanjana asked.

Both looked to the West, the same direction as Kanjana. The sky was full of black shapes as at least a hundred Spires aircraft came in low and fast. Missiles launched upwards to greet them, but this was no minor assault. This was a full assault by air, and a dozen missile systems would not be enough to drive them away. Spartan ducked down and called out on the Secgrid network.

"Incoming aircraft to the West. It's Nakoma and the Spires. Look to the sky!"

Spartan placed a new power pack onto his carbine and activated the unit.

"If she's here, then this is the high-water mark. We hold now, or this is all over."

*  * *

Yunn and Reshal, known together as the Iron brothers, climbed to the top of the Southern rampart of the bastion. They were no more related than any of the other Blood Pack. They were armoured in the same fashion as the other Blood Pack, but for some reason known only to themselves bore extra plating on their torsos, making themselves look even bigger than the rest. It was the source of their name, but not even Spartan was sure the armour was necessary. The two always worked together, and it was now said they were the two bodies of the same man.

Both brothers roared as they cut down the last of the Sekieki creatures. Four Blood Pack warriors lay shattered and torn apart, but they had done their job. A small number of Byotai remained, but the others were already streaming back towards the trench, and the safety offered by the sally ports in the base of the wall. Lieutenant Yunn fired a long burst from his Thumper and then looked off into the distance. A hundred metres away was a line of massive wheeled transports, moving slowly and grinding rock, dust, and bone beneath their wheels. Their front sections were heavily reinforced, and guns on the top cleared away anybody stupid enough to get close.

"I don't like this," said Jax.

The young member of the Blood Pack opened fire on the nearest vehicle, but his Thumper did little more than make loud banging sounds and leave scratch marks on its thick armour. It screeched to a halt as it reached the top of the Southern rampart of the bastion, and a ramp dropped down, hitting the top of the earthen defence with a crash.

"Fall back to the trench!" Yunn called out.

The interior of the vehicle flickered as scores of Jezzail rifles opened fired. Seven Byotai were cut down, as well as a single Blood Pack warrior who took five direct hits to the chest.

"Back I said, move it!"

Out surged hundreds of uniformed Zuni soldiers. Their gleaming breastplates and long flowing robes looked out of place here, yet they moved with professionalism rarely seen amongst the Anicinàbe. The rest of the bastion's defenders were running, leaving the last fifteen remaining Blood Pack. They moved backwards, walking slowly and taking their time to shoot the approaching enemy.

"Watch your aim, bleed them, my brothers. Bleed them."

The first wave of Zuni soldiers ran down the slope and right at the Blood Pack. On their own they would have been easily defeated, but six more of the vehicles did the same and deposited their own full companies down into the bastion. At the same time, even more Kolchan riders rode around the bastions to cut them off at the rear.

"Bring them down. They will encircle us!" Reshal yelled.

A creature moved into view, and rather than shooting the animal, Reshal aimed at the rider. The first shot went wide, so he held down the trigger and raked the occupants, hitting them with at least a dozen large calibre armour piercing explosive rounds. As their lifeless corpses fell to the ground, the animal twisted about and charged directly at a group of Zuni soldiers. They scattered in panic as it ran them down. A cheer rang out among the small number of remaining defenders.

"That's more like it!" said Yunn.

He then took aim and continued to shoot.

"Now drive them back!"

* * *

"Get the standard back up!" Spartan shouted.

Khan grabbed the broken piece of metal and lifted it up high so that the defenders on the wall, and those out fighting at the front could see it. Khan then found a crack in the wall and jammed the pole into the gap.

"There."

From the wall, Spartan could see what was happening below. He had only just reached the last tower alongside the breached wall when the first aircraft arrived. This tower had been hit twice, and the roof and one part of the upper wall had collapsed, leaving it open to the elements. Spartan ducked low as the aircraft screeched overhead, not even stopping to fight. He took aim and opened fired, joining in with the hundreds of others who added fire to the constant sound of missiles being launched.

Here it comes.

Spartan braced himself for the bombs, but the Spires soldiers dropped down, using their packs to slow their descent. Some landed on the walls, and others came down on either side, but most landed South of the Wall and near the breach. It was little different to the attacks days earlier, except this time they were already busy fighting those outside the wall. Seven landed right next to him and Khan. They both waded in; firing at every target they could see.

"Just like old times," said Khan.

He kicked one of the clan soldiers off the wall and laughed as the unfortunate fighter screamed until hitting the solid ground below. Off into the distance, and on the other side of the breach was Olik and five Blood Pack. Part of the wall had half collapsed, and they were at the crest, holding back a wave of soldiers with their bare hands.  Explosions filled the skyline in every direction as the enemy descended upon the defences, even as shorter-ranged artillery sent shells indiscriminately between attacker and defender alike. A great howl filled the area, and Spartan felt as though he was in space. He reached for Khan, and then he hit the rocky ground with a thud, and his visor went dark.

* * *

Missiles and rockets whistled overhead and crashed against the thick wall, or along the line of broken barricades being hastily pushed into position along its peak. At the same time a great wave of gunfire erupted from both the top of the wall, as well as the hundreds of lower positions where work teams had recently been slaving away. Hundreds of Anicinàbe lay dead in the open ground around the trench; Kolchan, Zuni, and Red Scars scattered together.

Few defenders remained in front of the wall as the combined weight of two clans washed over the bastions. The initial wave might have been beaten back. But with all of the transports and ground vehicles in position, their entire strength was unleashed. They quickly broke into the bastion, with many small groups running to the safety of the trench, sweeping away the defenders with ease.

The few brave warriors that did stand their ground were cut down in the crossfire; Byotai, Khreenk, Helion, Human, and Anicinàbe cut down indiscriminately by the massed guns of the advancing enemy. The Kolchan were undisciplined and rushed straight ahead. The waves of Zuni soldiers marched as though on parade, only breaking into a run when close enough to see their targets. In just ten minutes they'd secured the ground in front of the trench and most of the bastions, leaving just the Blood Pack like rocks jutting out from waves crashing along a beach.

While hundreds engaged the Blood Pack, many more streamed past to reach the last few Red Scars. Rather than wait for the end, a single cry rang out along the trench. Yunn heard the cry, twisted to avoid a blow from a Zuni soldier, and then blasted his head cleanly from his shoulders. He looked back and laughed as the Red Scars rose from the trench and charged out. They crashed into the loose wave of Kolchan clan warriors and creatures.

"Yes!"

Yunn turned back to his own fight, but many more of the defenders continued streaming back through the sally ports or up the rubble, to make it through the great breach blown through the wall. They moved, desperate to escape being trapped outside. Far off to the left three squads of Black Widows flitted about, holding back the tide as settler soldiers retreated. Before they could be engaged, they rose from the air and moved to the next location, dancing about like bugs around a carcass.

Nice moves.

"Yunn, ahead, fifty metres."

Yunn rotated his torso and spotted the problem, six Kolchan soldiers taking cover behind the body of a fallen Blood Pack warrior. One was tugging at his firearm.

"Get off him, you animals!"

Yunn put an entire magazine into the group, tearing two apart and sending the rest fleeing in panic. He looked back and quickly found the group of Zuni soldiers moving to the wide-open sally port. The last Byotai to enter had left it open, and it provided the perfect way inside the defences. He took aim just as a creature crashed into his back and sent him sprawling.

"Sally port!"

He hit the ground and automatically rolled, avoiding the large paw reaching for him. Yunn rested the stock of his Thumper on the ground so that its muzzle pointed directly up and pulled the trigger. The large calibre rounds hammered into the animal’s belly. As it hit the ground dead, Yunn was back up and looking for targets. Then he remembered the sally port. He looked for it and found the horde already there.

Dammit!

Yunn took aim, squeezed the trigger, and then found his view obscured as ten Black Widows crashed down around them.

Beautiful!

Arana hit the ground with a crash. Her fuel supplies were running low, and by her calculations had just enough fuel to make it back over the wall. Nine more Widows landed around her in a loose crescent. Ahead of her was what remained of the bastion, and coming right at her was at least a company of the Zuni soldiers who had breached the trench. They were heading for the open sally port behind her.

"Drive them back, Widows."

Their matched brace of pistols at this range were devastating. The fully automatic fire unleashed a swathe of fire ripped apart Zuni soldiers with ease. Dozens were cut down from defenders higher up the wall. A few foolishly stood their ground, but the rest turned and ran back, desperate to avoid the guns.

"See, hit them hard and they run. Now, back to the wall. Spartan needs help."

A series of small flashes rippled along the wall as the ten accelerated up the wall. Yunn looked back and took aim just as his brother and Jax were pinned to the ground by a massive four-legged beast, their armour cracked from its massive weight crushing then into the rock.

"Drive them back. Use everything we have! They won't stand."

 The gunfire unleashed a terrible sound, but no matter how many shots were fired, the number of clan warriors in front of the wall never seemed to diminish. Yet with every second the defenders held, the resolve of the attackers seemed to decrease proportionately.

Yunn jumped past two Zuni soldiers and swung his Thumper, catching one in the face. The second turned to run, but was picked off by sniper fire from the wall. More of the clan soldiers scattered, some moving to the wall, and just as many fleeing back to their vehicles. Yunn could feel the enemy beginning to break, and he was sure his comrades could as well. He looked up and spotted the tiny shapes of Khan, Arana, and Spartan, all clustered around the Byotai standard. Khan lifted the pole high into the sky and roared, and all along the wall shouting broke out.

"Yes!" Yunn yelled.

At that very moment the first wave of Spires dropships screamed overhead, and a new bombardment of shells crashed all around the battlefield. Most struck low along the wall, but a good number made it to the already wide breach. The ground shuddered, and Yunn glanced back. A section a hundred metres-wide collapsed, along with a tower and the standard flying alongside Khan and Spartan. It was a massive breach, and as it opened, a great howl echoed out along the open plain from the enemy clans.

No!

Many more dropships came in low and fast in front of the wall, depositing squad after squad of Spires soldiers. Some even carried black banners that he did not recognise. They moved with speed and efficiency, shouting to those that might be retreating and stabilising the line. As Yunn watched in horror, the numbers of retreating clan warriors slowed down, and small groups of them turned back to watch the collapsing wall. More shells struck the damaged sections, and the battle completely reversed in a matter of seconds. The sound of the defenders’ cheers was drowned out by the combined voices of three clans.

"They are rallying," cried out another of his kin.

Spires dropships swept in low, and large numbers of Spires warriors leapt out to join the flagging ground troops of the Kolchan and Zuni clans. The hundreds outside the wall soon found their number doubling in size. Smaller numbers landed on the wall, taking the fight to the mercenaries and soldiers defending them. Yunn fired his last shots, and then lifted his Thumper like a club before charging those trying to reach the breach.

"With me!"

* * *

The last barrage had shattered the wall, and to his stunned surprise, Spartan found he was still conscious. For a moment, he thought he'd passed out. It wasn't him, though, just the armour that had failed. He fumbled with both hands and deactivated the broken visor. The unit broke away as he pulled on it, leaving his face vulnerable to the elements. The stench of burning flesh and smoke from firearms filled his nostrils.

"Khan?"

The smoke obscured everything, and he staggered about the rubble, trying to find Khan. The pair crashed into each other, both battered but little worse for wear.

"What's happened?"

Khan pointed to his left.

"The wall is breached; we have to hold them back while the others get to the settlement barricades."

The mention of the barricades filled Spartan with dread. They were a last line of defence, the only thing that could stop the enemy from making it inside the three underground settlements.

"Do it."

Spartan clambered down to the lower part of the broken wall, roughly halfway down from its full height. The last bombardment had torn open another three sections, and the work crews had been pulled back. It revealed a wide breach that once climbed, would allow any attacker inside the city. It was so big he suspected a spacecraft could actually land there, if there was a pilot crazy enough to try it. All that remained in the forward defences were the Blood Pack and the Red Scars, and most were withdrawing through the sally ports.

Spartan could see from the overhead drone footage that all their positions were completely overrun now, including the trench and the bastions. The skyline was a junkyard of burning vehicles and wasteland, but their ground troops no longer filled the open space. It wasn't much, but it heartened Spartan, even just a little. At key points a number of smaller groups of enemy troops were already falling back.

They might have numbers, but not resolve.

He called out to Khan.

"That is their entire strength at the walls. If we can shatter this last assault, I think we might drive them off. We will have won."

Khan shook his head and lifted his arm to point at the large mound of debris marking the point where the wall had collapsed. It rose up like a small hill and at its peak a large group of Byotai. They ran as fast as their legs would carry them, some even falling to get back inside.

"They're broken," said Khan.

His voice was grim, but Spartan was having none of that.

"Get everybody you can find here, and fast. I need them back there."

He looked backwards and towards the barricade. It was a modest affair, constructed from stone, rubble, sandbags, and discarded furniture. The structure was nearly three hundred metres wide, and the last barrier between the enemy, and the myriad of tunnels and entrances to the city. One person stood up tall on the barricades, and in her hand she held up a battered and clearly improvised metal pole, from which flew a civilian Byotai flag.

"Syala?"

* * *

Nakoma circled overhead, watching the battle below. The city was burning, exactly as she'd hoped, but a large number of her clan warriors were fleeing, plus almost all of the creatures brought by the Kolchan.

The fools. There is a reason we stopped using those beasts centuries ago.

Only two large contingents of Zuni, numbering about five thousand, were now at the breach and trench works, along with nearly three thousand Kolchan. Almost the same number of Spires warriors were spread along the wall and moving to join the others to enter the breach.

Three times that number of the three clans was now embroiled in numerous skirmishes along the many small breaches in the wall. Though the Byotai had withdrawn, the heavily armed mercenaries were defending the small gaps in the walls with surprising success. As she watched, a group of black armoured soldiers launched from the walls and crashed down amongst a group of Kolchan soldiers. Bodies were blown apart, and the Kolchan soldiers broken and fled, leaving the unknown soldiers to blast away again and back behind the wall. Nakoma snarled upon seeing the successful counterattack.

"Why are my soldiers running away? Are they insane? Perhaps they fear the enemy more than me."

She had been tempted to withdraw her forces now that the city defences were in ruins, and to bomb the last survivors into submission. After seeing the success of the mercenaries, she could see how brittle the clan warriors were, and there were already enough of her forces fleeing from battle. She looked to Senior Centurion Siwili positioned opposite her on board the heavy assault gunship.

"How many Spires troops remain uncommitted?"

"Approximately a thousand are still in the air, the rest wait at the forward deployment area. They can be here within the hour."

"Good. Land the thousand here, a kilometre from the wall and form a line. Send the aircraft back and bring in the reserve."

 Senior Centurion Siwili looked confused.

"A kilometre from the wall? Should we not combine with the rest of our forces to take the city?"

Ogimà Nakoma's expression changed in an instant.

"Why? There are more than fifty thousand warriors fleeing from battle, while our own kin rally those at the breach."

She nodded towards the wall.

"If they will not fight, they will be shot on sight."

"As you wish, Ogimà."

They moved along the wall, staying low and out of sight of the defensive weapons of the city. The occasional gun fired at them, but with so many Spires soldiers now in the field, many parts of the wall had been taken, and only the majority of the towers still in the hands of the Byotai and their mercenaries.

"Put us down, Senior Centurion. It's time for you to earn your place in the clan."

Siwili looked to his master with an expressionless face.

"My place?"

Nakoma smiled.

"Of course. When Tahkeome returns, I will take my place at his side. I need somebody I can trust to take over the running of the Spires. Take the city for me, and that place is yours."

The craft moved lower, and Siwili leapt out, hitting the ground and rolling forward before standing upright. More of the Spires soldiers dropped down to join him. They were heavily armoured and carrying Jezzail rifles. He called out via the unit communicators to those already on the ground.

"All units converge on the breach. We take the breach, and then the city."

* * *

Spartan and Khan waited in front of the barricade with what remained of the Blood Pack. Khan at his left, Syala, Arana, and Kanjana positioned at his right-hand side. Kanjana looked almost identical to Spartan, sporting her XC1 Carbine. The two Black Widows were even bulkier, protected by their reinforced and customised armour. Syala had discarded her pistols in favour of a Blood Pack Thumper that looked ridiculously big on her.

"Nice gun," said Khan.

Syala smiled but looked to Spartan.

"I thought we were winning this thing."

Spartan shrugged.

"They are civilians. They can't be expected to hold forever."

As he spoke, the last few hundred defenders clambered atop the defensive structure. At the centre were Governor Nak Sekieki and his entourage. Spartan had expected to never see him again, but for some reason he was here.

"Governor, this is likely to be the last battle. You should go back with your people."

Kanjana repeated his words, but the Byotai noble was already shaking his head.

"We will fight and die here."

Spartan looked back to Syala.

"He's got a serious death wish, hasn't he?"

More people flooded to it every few minutes, but most were still running from the wall. Spires soldiers had secured several towers and were firing down into those moving throughout the city. Spartan was sure he could count hundreds, perhaps even thousands of the civilians looking for a safe place to hide. Even the Exiles had given up and abandoned their posts.

"Stop running. Stand or the city falls!"

Kanjana called out to them in their own tongue, but as clan soldiers took section after section of the wall, they ran. The city was vast, and if they made it underground, they might survive for days before Nakoma reached them.

"This doesn't look good, does it?" Khan asked.

Spartan shook his head.

"You're not wrong, old friend."

One contingent to the left slowed and then for some reason stopped. There were four hundred, perhaps more, and an equal mixture of Byotai and half-bloods. It was now almost impossible to tell them apart, their odd mix of weapons and gear covered in dust.

"Look," said Kanjana.

Tenskwatawa appeared brandishing his staff, his face still bare. He spoke in Byotai, and as he said his words, more of the settlers stopped to listen. Some even grabbed weapons from the fallen and aimed them at the massive breach. Then came a great lull, as though it was nothing more than a piece of entertainment and somebody had pressed the mute button. Gunfire continued, but it was light and sporadic, with only the occasional explosion.

"What's going on?" Syala asked.

Spartan glanced at the overhead view from the drones, but with the smoke of battle still littering the field, there was little to see. If he'd been wearing his Maverick armour, he could have launched his own network drone.

"Look," said Khan.

They all turned their gaze to the mound of rubble and the shape of the Anicinàbe warriors. The bizarre mixture of clan fighters reached the peak and then spread out in a massive formation. Spartan hadn't quite appreciated how much of the wall had collapsed, but the lines were easily two hundred warriors wide, and increasing. All were heavily armed, and one in particular pushed to the front. He was bigger than the rest and carried no firearms, just a halberd shaped weapon. He lifted the weapon high and shouted down via an electronic translator in the Byotai language.

With his visor and electronic suit damaged, Spartan looked to Kanjana for help.

"What is he saying?"

Kanjana shook her head and sighed, clearly angry at what the Spires officer was saying.

"He is Senior Centurion Siwili of the Spires. He offers terms, if we surrender."

Khan by now could hear what Kanjana was saying.

"What terms?"

"He will let us walk out of the city without our weapons, if we surrender."

"And if we don't?" asked Syala.

In answer to the question, a pair of the massive four-legged creatures clambered over the top of the rubble. Scores of the other clan warriors moved down to make space for it. The occupants took aim with their firearms, and then at the call of Siwili, every single one of them took aim at the barricades, and those waiting in front. Then four of the Zuni soldiers pushed the shattered metal form of a Blood Pack warrior to the front. His armour had been breached in a dozen places, and his helm was ripped open.

"Jax," said Khan, the anger and bitterness pouring out.

Both sides faced off against each other with their weapons raised and ready to shoot. The Anicinàbe commander moved closer to the badly wounded Jax and held the edge of his halberd style weapon at his throat. More of the soldiers clambered over the mound and down the other side into the city. They moved cautiously, while Senior Centurion Siwili remained at the peak so that all could see him and his prisoner. He called out the demands once more, and a number of the Byotai dropped their weapons and fled the barricades,

"We’re with you," said a computerised voice.

Spartan could see from the corner of his eye that the rest of the mercenaries had formed up in front of the defences. The mood was electric, with both sides poised for the bloodletting. As each second passed, more Byotai left. At the same time yet more Anicinàbe filled the breach. Voices came from beyond the wall, and a smattering of gunshots. One of the Anicinàbe at the top of the mound fell backwards.

"What's going on?" asked Khan.

Spartan gripped his carbine tightly.

"I don't know...be ready."

The Anicinàbe looked back and shouted, just as two Blood Pack warriors climbed into view. One appeared from the rubble to the left where the wall had fallen down. His helm was cracked open, and entire sections of his armour were missing. The second must have climbed the rubble from the Southern side of the wall. Both were battered, their armour smashed and dripping in blood.

"Die, you Anicinàbe coward!" yelled the second.

The first warrior hurled himself into the mass of soldiers, spreading confusion. The second crashed directly into Jax, knocking the wounded Blood Pack warrior and the Senior Centurion down so that he vanished among the melee. Gunshots flashed back and forth, but the two were like demonic monsters, ignoring the bullets and lifting up Anicinàbe soldiers and hurling them against their comrades.

"Khan!" yelled the first of the pair.

Spartan shook his head in disbelief.

"Olik?"

He then lifted his arm and shouted to the defenders.

"Fire!"

Rifles and carbines of all kinds opened up, and the Anicinàbe responded in kind, firing at the barricade at those in front and behind. The attackers outnumbered the defenders by a massive margin. Dozens of Byotai and Exile soldiers were cut down, even those hiding behind the barricades. More broke and fled, even as Tenskwatawa tried to rally them.

"Come on, end this, now!" Spartan snapped.

Spartan and his comrades in front of the barricade unleashed all they had. The mercenaries utilised everything from thermal rifles and plasma weapons, to spike throwers taken from the Red Scars. The fight was brutal, and at this range it was almost impossible to miss.

Olik continued to fight at the top of the ridge, until finally two heavy hits struck his chest. He staggered and then swung his arms, cutting down yet more soldiers. Olik bent down, grabbed a long metal pole, and swung it hard, striking another Kolchan soldier in the face. Unknown to him it was the standard that had been flying next to Khan when the wall had collapsed. He looked down the ridge to the defenders when a massive metal spike punched through his chest. Olik dropped to his knees as the razor sharp halberd wielded from the left by Siwili embedded in his throat. He tipped over forwards and slid down the ridge face first. The Byotai standard dropped to the ground, its tip lodged in the rubble and battered material hanging limp to one side.

"Olik!" Khan screamed.

The Blood Pack broke formation and charge at the Anicinàbe. The massive metal warriors were outnumbered a hundred to one, and of the eighteen that charged, three were killed outright. They crashed into the front rank like a freight train and then vanished into the crowd. Right behind them came the rest of the mercenaries, Spartan and Kanjana leading, the Widows at their flanks.

The gunfire quickly faded as the gun battle turned to a close quarter fight. The odd mixture of warriors hacked, stabbed, and slashed at those on the lower face of the mound of rubble. Spartan took three gunshots to the shoulder and was knocked to his back by one of the great beasts. Volley fire from the barricade forced it to back off, and he looked back, calling to those waiting behind the defences.

"Help us!"

Tenskwatawa was exhorting them to the fight, while raising his staff up in the air. Spartan spotted him draw a long, slender blade from inside the staff, but then his view was blocked by another small group of Spires soldiers. Two more Jötnar fell, and although they took a heavy toll on the Anicinàbe, the numbers continued to grow. Minute by minute they were pushed back. Spartan dragged himself to the front where the Black Widows were fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with Khan and the others. Three Jötnar dragged back the shattered bodies of Jax and Olik, and still there was no sign of victory. Spartan tried to call out to the others but then spotted the leader of the enemy a few metres away.

"Khan, there he is!"

Spartan grabbed the head of a Kolchan warrior and cast it aside to clear a path up the rubble. Khan was busy fighting six clan warriors, but upon seeing the shape of the Senior Centurion, he pushed them aside and moved forward. Siwili saw him at the last minute and swung his blood soaked halberd around. Spartan charged shoulder first at Siwili and moved under the blade. Armour struck armour, and the two staggered back, crashing into three Spires soldiers. Khan then arrived and smashed his fists into the warrior’s chest. Spartan yanked the halberd from Siwili and swung the weapon. Khan leaned back just as the blade bit in deeply to Siwili's collar. The weapon was incredibly sharp and hacked through metal and flesh with ease. The headless corpse dropped to its knees, and Khan kicked it over and roared with satisfaction. Blades and fists struck the two, but then Spartan saw something he'd never expected to see.

As he was dragged down, a great crowd of Exiles and Byotai were charging up the mound, Tenskwatawa and Governor Nak Sekieki at their head. They crashed into the scattered Anicinàbe, and in seconds the enemy broke. Spartan fell to the ground, his armour torn and broken, and his energy all but gone as they stormed past. He looked up and spotted Governor Nak Sekieki waving the fallen Byotai standard, while his kin charged out into the light. The battle of Melantias was over, and the combined forces of Nakoma were fleeing in terror.

EPILOGUE

One great disadvantage in using robotic technology ground combat was that its use was always obvious. Who could place the blame on another faction or race, when only those with advanced technology could ever hope to create or operate such advanced machines? In the early days of the Interstellar Assault Brigade, this became clear. CD1 Grunts soon became a signifier that the IAB were involved, and they quickly turned to modifying the exterior of the units, depending on the operation and target.

Robots in Space

The Wall of Melantias, Stone Teeth Hills, Karnak

Spartan looked down from the ruins of the breached wall and shook his head in amazement. As far as he could see, right out to the horizon, was a graveyard filled with the bodies of the fallen and hundreds of burning vehicles. The sky was beginning to clear, but the sound of battle had gone. Instead of the great legions hacking away at each other, there were instead long columns of Anicinàbe prisoners being taken away. Spartan looked to the right, where an equally battered looking Khan was waiting with Kanjana. She was leaning against a smashed boulder-sized piece of wall. She'd removed the upper sections of her armour and was enjoying the warm breeze coming from the East.

"I never expected to see a fight like that again, old friend," said Spartan.

Khan grunted.

"Agreed."

"How is Olik?"

Khan sighed.

"He's alive, but the blade cut him deep. The medics say another three millimetres, and he'd be dead already."

He reached out and grabbed Spartan's shoulder.

"I had a little...talk with one of the Spires officers. He says there are still prisoners at Montu, including some Jötnar."

"Wictred." said Spartan under his breath.

They locked their arms together and Spartan leaned in close so that his face was just inches from Khan's.

"We'll get to Montu...and we'll found out what happened. We're not leaving a single soul behind. Understood?"

Khan almost crushed him with his incredibly strong grip, and then released him upon spotting Arana approaching from the Southern side of the wall. She was not alone, and her entourage was busy escorting a number of Anicinàbe senior officers. She nodded to Spartan as she passed, but Syala stopped and limped a little as she moved towards Spartan. Three bullets had damaged her leg armour, yet incredibly none of them had fully penetrated. Her helmet was gone, and her long hair hung down messily over her armour.

"So, you survived," she said.

Spartan said not a word, but grabbed her and pulled her close. There were no other sounds for a moment until the grinding of dust and rock indicated others coming up the ridge. They looked back down and found Governor Nak Sekieki and Tenskwatawa approaching. It looked odd seeing the two together, and even Khan seemed pleasantly surprised. As before, Kanjana began translating for Governor Nak Sekieki, but Tenskwatawa lifted his hand to stop her.

"Thank you, Kanjana of the Anicinàbe. I will speak for the Governor and our people."

She looked over to Spartan who gave her a short nod.

"You and your people have done us a great service. You were brought here to help train our warriors, and instead have led us to victory. Our losses are great, but the Anicinàbe are now broken, and our people united in their common goal to work together. This is a new age..."

He looked to Tenskwatawa.

"For all of us."

Spartan lowered his head in a polite gesture.

"There's an old saying we have back home," said Spartan.

Tenskwatawa looked at Spartan with a whimsical expression. He was battered and blood dripped from multiple small wounds. Yet for all the damage, he appeared little worse for wear.

"Really, and what is that?"

There was a sort pause as Spartan waited for the translation.

"The tide has turned."

He then scratched his forehead.

"Or is it the worm has turned."

Spartan looked back to the South.

"News of this battle will spread, and any Byotai in hiding will be ready to join the fight. All they need is leadership and a vision. If you give it to them, they will fight."

He then looked to both Governor Nak Sekieki and Tenskwatawa.

"We brought you mercenaries, and we've done our part. Melantias is safe, and now your forces are ready for the fight. Nakoma still holds the capital, and her forces hold many of your kin to the South. You've seen the reports. She's already executing civilians in massive numbers."

He looked at both of them again.

"She holds other prisoners, including Kras, and I promise you, she'll use them when the time is right. This is not over yet, not by a long shot. We...no, you need help from the Empire. Fresh troops and ships, or the rest of the Quadrant will suffer like Karnak has."

Spartan rubbed his cheeks with his left hand.

"There is only one question left to answer for you two, though."

The two aliens looked to each other and then to him. Tenskwatawa spoke in his perfectly clear, accent-less voice.

"And what is that, Spartan?"

Khan moved alongside Spartan, looked at his friend, and then sighed as though bored with the conversation.

"It's pretty simple."

He rubbed his face while trying to assess quite what the two were thinking.

"Are you ready to take back Karnak?"

Tenskwatawa smiled.

"Yes, we will take back Karnak, and then the entire Quadrant, but not for our united people, for the unified Star Empire."

Khan, Spartan, and Syala looked at each other, all equally confused. Khan said exactly what they were all thinking.

"The Star what?"

* * *

Grand Cruiser ‘Raiukat’, Byotai Border

The group of Anicinàbe warships and transports waited in front of an equally large group of Byotai rebel ships. Fighters from both sides performed routine escort patterns, but none of the capital ships had their weapons online or their gun ports open. Many of the ships carried Spires warriors, though all now wore the uniforms given to them by Tahkeome. These were the ships promised to ease the troubles in the Anicinàbe territories, but here they waited, alongside a vast group of Byotai rebels.

Of all the ships present, the largest was the Grand Cruiser known as Raiukat. The design was an odd mixture of Anicinàbe elegance, but mixed with the brutal size and power of the Byotai. A single bright symbol glowed on its hull, lit from within so that all could see. The shape was simple, and of a two-headed reptilian creature, its heads facing in opposite directions. Every single ship in that part of space bore the new iconography of the two-headed Sekieki, the creatures that occupied worlds of both people.

Ogimà Tahkeome, chief of all the border clans examined the report that had just arrived from Karnak, from behind the beautifully designed table. It was curved like a crescent, with a smooth black finish accented in gleaming white. For anybody else in his position, it might have seemed like a disaster. Tarak had lost the bulk of the fleet around Karnak, and now Ogimà Nakoma had failed to defeat the Byotai to the North of her positions. He looked up at the shape of his two assistants, both clad in the new uniforms and armour he had requested.

Finally, the time has come. Nakoma has begun her reprisals, and still the Byotai will not send aid.

He looked up at his officers and extended his arms, as though offering them a gift. Off into the distance was a great map made from a single piece of incredibly fine steel. Upon it were the quadrants and sectors that made up the territories of the Anicinàbe and Byotai. The Tenth Quadrant, source of so much woe, lay directly in the centre.

"Send the signal. It is time for the revolution to begin."

The officers looked ecstatic at the news. It was clearly something they had been waiting for.

"To all of our brothers, rise up against the yoke of the oppressor. Those Byotai who have been cast aside by their betters, or exiled from their worlds for joining the fighting on Karnak will be saved."

The officers looked to each other, their faces trembling with anticipation.

"Our Anicinàbe brothers live like nomads, homeless and weak. Never again! Today we unite all Anicinàbe and Byotai, no matter their blood."

He then pointed to the map.

"Send five transports to Karnak. Contact my brother at Melantias. I want Karnak to be the first to join us. He can use our troops to crush Nakoma. The Star Empire is reborn, and all will join us in this glorious rebirth. When the volunteers on Karnak see that we have achieved, what the Byotai Patrician refused them, they will soon beg to join us."

The tallest of the officers lowered his head before speaking.

"What of the Byotai fleet? Many of their officers will not join us."

Ogimà Tahkeome rose to his feet.

"We have agents among the populares on every Byotai world. Their caste system is our ally. For too long the Byotai Patricians have kept them in slavery, and now, while their people suffer under Nakoma, they will do nothing."

He licked his lips.

"Tenskwatawa will show them the unity and purpose of our Empire. Send the signal to our agents. The populares will rise up, and they will take what is theirs."

"And what of those that refuse, Ogimà Tahkeome?"

"They will join the Empire, or they will burn."

The officers saluted and left, leaving just one. The younger, most junior of them looked to Tahkeome with his head lowered.

"Yes? What is it?" Tahkeome asked.

"Ogimà. Most of the Byotai crews will join us, but what of the Alliance? They will not simply leave, and they could ally with the Patricians and stop us."

The young officer looked nervous, especially with Tahkeome walking towards him.

"That, my young friend, is a very good point. Send word that when the second signal is sent, all captured ships will turn their guns on foreign warships. The Empire must start anew, without the contamination of the tainted."

The officer appeared stunned.

"Ogimà Tahkeome. You want us to fire warning shots, to force them to leave."

Tahkeome moved close and ran his hand down the young officer’s cheek.

"No, I want their ships destroyed, burnt from within, and their bodies hurled into space. When the signal is sent, all alien ships will be hunted down and destroyed. Every last one of them."

THE END

FURTHER INFORMATION

There are many more books set in the Star Crusades universe that cover some of the most momentous events such as the Great Uprising that resulted in the establishment of the Alliance as well as the Biomech War. There are multiple series including 'Uprising', 'Nexus', 'Mercenaries' and beyond. Please visit Swordworks Books to learn more, examine the historical timelines and to see maps of the territories described in the books:

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www.starcrusader.com

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