War of the Exiles Page 16

  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 fille
d 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.