Spartan shook his head.
“No. The General and Gun don’t have the time. We can be at the entrance to the Byotai Spacebridge in a matter of hours. The Byotai are unlikely to let an armed ship into the region, and the Anicinàbe will shoot us on sight.”
Colonel Black had nothing to say, so Spartan continued.
“This is as good a time to test the engines as any other, would you not agree?”
Five-Seven spoke slowly and calmly.
“Course laid in, we are ready to activate the engines.”
Spartan straightened his back and gave a curt nod.
“Do it.”
An indicator on the mainscreen right at the bottom showed the power build-up, as the ring at the rear of the ship began the process to create the warped area of space around the ship, commonly described as a bubble. The indicator increased in speed and then halted. Five-Seven hit a single button. The objects nearest to the ship blurred and disappeared. The newest planets and celestial objects moved slowly, while the distant objects appeared as still as normal.
“Is it working?” Colonel Black asked.
Spartan laughed.
“Colonel, we are now travelling at just under the speed of light, all without the use of Spacebridges.”
The two were silent and looked back to the mainscreen. The process of acceleration was unlike any other form of travel. The unique feature of the engines was that the ship never moved, instead the small bubble around the ship slipped ahead, distorted space-time, effectively moving them along with the distortion. It was elegant and incredibly difficult to maintain.
“So, we will be at the border in a few hours, and then we make our dash to the planet. What then, Spartan? Tell me you have a plan?”
“Spartan, there are reports coming in from the Alliance News Network. It is Karnak.”
Spartan and Colonel Black shared a quick look.
“Put it on the mainscreen.”
Five-Seven nodded firmly and transferred the imagery to the large forward screen. The quality was perfect and showed an anchorman in full body armour in front of a burning building.
“For those of you just joining us, we are bringing you live videostreams of the fighting. Three hours ago, local militias blockaded entry to the planet, and a full-scale insurrection by the pro-Anicinàbe settlers started.”
An explosion ripped part of another distant building apart, and the anchorman dropped to the ground. Rockets flew overhead and were followed by the meaty thuds of impacts. The man returned to the camera view.
“We have unconfirmed reports of Anicinàbe civilian aircraft dropping militiamen into battle and escorting civilians out of their homes. If this is true, we may be seeing the first images of the removal of most, if not all Byotai settlers in the demilitarised zone.”
Spartan closed his eyes and did his best to control his breathing.
“The Byotai are outnumbered, and we doubt they will be able to hold off these attacks for more than a few days, perhaps weeks.”
“I know,” said Colonel Black, “You were right.”
Another explosion forced Spartan to open his eyes. The images had shifted to one of the peaceful-looking Byotai settlements. It was small, and perhaps home to a hundred or so civilians. The videostream was shaky, but it was clear the Byotai were not soldiers. Some carried firearms, but most were using agricultural tools to dig trenches near their homes.
“A hour ago this border settlement at Arasine was attacked. The families living here managed to fight them off with little more than a few shotguns and rifles, but as the village elder told us, the raiders will be back, and they have few weapons to fight back with.”
The anchorman looked into the camera.
“Unconfirmed reports show that Anicinàbe militant attacks are well coordinated. They are heavily armed, and the Byotai governor has already asked his people to avoid fighting where they can.”
The camera moved in closer to his face.
“Some are asking why the Anicinàbe have turned on their fellow settlers, but others are suggesting involvement of the Anicinàbe Council. If this is true, it could be the first aggressive mood by a confident new regime. The question all of us are asking, is what will the Byotai reaction be?”
Spartan gave the signal to cut the video feed. Just as it was about to fade, he shook his head.
“This shouldn’t have happened, and you’re damn right I told you. The Byotai settlers should have been protected months ago, and now it’s too late. A single cruiser would have sent the message that we are watching out for them. Now...well, this could be the spark that ignites a war.”
The Colonel wanted to tell him about the reports he had seen already. The information on ship movements, and pirate attacks that suggested nothing of this magnitude was about to happen. All that had changed just days earlier, and some were already saying it was one of the greatest intelligence community failings in generations; and all because of this one individual, Tahkeome, the first leader of the Anicinàbe in generations that had united many of his kin.
“I’m not disagreeing, Spartan.”
He was watching one of the displays that still showed one feed. Five-Seven reached for the button to stop it, but he called out instead.
“No, wait, zoom in.”
The imagery changed to show an Anicinàbe convoy. There were wheeled vehicles littering a small valley. Food and aid packages lay scattered in all directions, and one of the large vehicles belched thick black smoke. Spartan turned to the Colonel.
“That mark, there, on the vehicle.”
Colonel Black looked closely and then spotted the black shape. It was relatively indistinct, but both of them recognised it immediately. It was just two shapes, both marked in black dust, probably carbon from the burning materials around them.
“Survival code,” said Colonel Black, “That is Alliance.”
They moved closer, but Spartan had already identified the key variables.
“Are those codes valid for this month?”
He looked back to the Colonel, and he was already nodding.
“That is the mark of the General all right, and the message is plain and simple. The mission is still active.”
Spartan shook his head.
“They might have captured him, but somehow he managed to get the weapons out of Anicinàbe hands. If the Byotai can get their hands on them, they might have a chance.”
He closed his eyes again and tried to relax his mind. Colonel Black turned to watch the stars moving ever so slowly. There was little they could do differently now, and they were already on the way. This one message gave him hope that they were alive somewhere on Karnak. Finally, Spartan said exactly what he was thinking.
“It’s time to see the others. We need to get ready. Bring your mercenaries with you. We will get the General and Gun, and then we will make sure the Byotai can protect themselves. I will not leave Karnak until that is achieved.”
* * *
The lower part of ANS X-45 Titan was very different to the armoured upper carapace that housed the shipboard weapons. The lower decks were vast and had unfinished locker rooms, bunks, a firing range, and a large training hall. Spartan led the Colonel down towards the lowest deck. It was the operations level, a part of the ship that encompassed perhaps a fifth of the entire vessel. It was wide open and filled with weapon racks and spaces for spacecraft. Both flanks were filled with reinforced cylinders that ran up into the ship. The fronts looked like glass doors, but a brown smoked colour so that it was impossible to see inside. Colonel Black look at them with interest, but then spotted what was waiting for them.
“Interesting.”
In the middle of the operations level were two Jötnar, each massive and fully armoured. They towered over the handful of Thegns that were busy pulling out equipment from stowage bins. Behind them was a single medium-sized landing craft, known simply by its SWD codename, the Jackal. The craft looked remarkably similar to the vessel the Colonel has been looking
at back on the World Ship.
“Your version of a Mauler, I presume?”
Spartan shrugged.
“Kind of. I can’t take the credit, though. My input has been on the ground troops. We’ve had help with the rest.”
Colonel Black gave the craft a cursory look. It was certainly of a similar size to the Mauler, but it was sleeker, and he suspected would offer many more features than the workhorse of the Alliance. It featured a swing-wing design and partially concealed engines. He looked hard but could find no sign of major ramps, hatches, or doorways leading inside, just two small hatches. Spartan watched him trying to find how ground troops would be able to leave in combat situations.
“Colonel, this is not designed to land troops on the ground. It is based on the tech we found when we arrived at T’Karan the first time. You recall the craft that dropped off machines while airborne?”
The Jötnar had been quiet until now, but Khan could take it no longer.
“Spartan, we thought you’d forgotten us.”
Spartan and Colonel Black looked away from the craft and walked closer, stopping in front of them.
“How could I?” Spartan said.
“Very well,” said the Colonel.
He looked at Khan and began to explain.
“If all goes to plan, we will be on the final approach to Karnak in a matter of hours.”
Colonel Black nodded as he listened.
“Yes, and I have uploaded detailed schematics for the underground facilities on the planet, as well as the coded signatures for several Byotai militia units on the surface. We’re going to need strong intelligence before we can act. Our contact will meet us at a nearby secure facility, along with local guides. It’s a disused research base, and it has a direct underground transport line to the region’s capital.”
Olik seemed little interested, but Khan became more alert at the mention of the Byotai.
“Yes, we were just watching the latest reports. It seems the Byotai have lost more than half of their settlements on Karnak, the rest are in hiding. This is already turning into an occupation, and it could get a lot worse.”
Khan grumbled.
“It probably will. The Anicinàbe cannot be trusted. They will take Karnak, and then move to the next world. We could have used their numbers in the war.”
Khan looked at his comrade who was clearly in agreement. He shrugged.
“Perhaps, but they could just as easily have fought on the side of the enemy. What then?”
Khan muttered something about the past, and Olik tried to smile before continuing.
“I warned them more than a year ago that this would happen. That there is a growing level of stability amongst the Anicinàbe, and that they are becoming restless. They are looking outwards, and Karnak is right there in front of them, like an open wound.”
He snorted, clearly irritated.
“The Byotai settlers have been abandoned by their government, all in the name of peace. Before the resettling of Karnak, it was a haven for pirates, nothing more. It no more belongs to the Anicinàbe than it belongs to us. The Byotai abandoned it generations earlier, and now civilian settlers will pay the price.”
Spartan could see the frustration on his friend’s face.
“They always do, my friend. But let’s keep focused here. We cannot change this conflict; it is between two people that have been putting off a fight for years. The Byotai might not be interested, but the Anicinàbe will not be happy they are right inside their border.”
Khan laughed.
“Border? This isn’t an island. There are no borders in space, just places where men point and then fight. Stupidity, all of it.”
Olik caught Spartan’s attention.
“I heard that this new leader, Tahkeome, has an agenda. He doesn’t care about either side; he wants to take advantage of the troubles to carve out a territory of his own, right in the middle.”
“Yeah,” agreed Khan, “And that will put a buffer zone between the Anicinàbe and the Byotai. Smells like a setup to me. You know what will follow.”
Spartan looked at each of them in turn.
“Right now none of that matters. We don’t have the Alliance backing us up, not even a fleet, just us, this one ship, and our untested cargo. We’re here to get our people out and in one piece.”
Olik gave Colonel Black an odd look, and Spartan knew immediately that something was up. Spartan looked to the Colonel; he had been hoodwinked at best, or misled at worst. The fact Olik might be involved sent his blood pounding through his chest.
What have you been up to, Olik?
The look on Olik’s face gave away his discomfort. His friend knew Spartan was not going to be overly happy, and for that Spartan could hardly blame him.
“We can do more than that, Spartan. We can bring back intelligence; show the Byotai and the Alliance what’s happening out there. The Anicinàbe are a growing problem, and one day, perhaps soon, we will be forced to deal with them.”
Spartan moved his attention to Khan who simply lifted his shoulder in mock surprise. Olik said nothing, but Spartan could see he neither agreed nor disagreed. He would do whatever the others decided. Spartan sensed something was going on and looked at the Colonel.
“You planned this?”
The Alliance officer breathed out slowly.
“We cannot act in this crisis without information. If the fighting is as the reports say, then we have no place getting involved. A settler dispute is an internal problem, and the Alliance Security Council will not vote to embroil us in a fight with the Anicinàbe.”
He looked to Khan and Olik.
“The Helions want no part, neither do the Byotai, and our own politicians keep saying there will be no boots on the ground without support from the entire Council.”
Spartan began to speak, but Olik interrupted.
“But, and this is a big but. If the Anicinàbe are involved, and we can prove it, then the Alliance will be forced to vote on military intervention. It will be impossible for a no vote, given that an Alliance member is under attack.”
Spartan took all of the information in, but he was still sure there was more to it. He looked into the eyes of the Colonel, but either he was telling him everything, or the man was the master of self-control. Knowing the Colonel’s exemplary reputation, Spartan suspected the latter. Olik continued.
“We are just out there, far enough away from the heavily inhabited worlds to test new equipment and weapons for the company. We do this, and we give the Alliance...what did they call it?”
“Plausible deniability,” explained the Colonel.
Spartan heard them, but he could already feel adrenalin starting to surge through his body. It took all his self-control to not break out into a rage.
“This Tenth Quadrant that the Byotai call it, it’s not currently recognised by the Alliance. Are you so sure they would vote for action?”
Khan turned to Olik, and though not angry, he did seem a little surprised.
“Is this why you came with the Colonel? To persuade us to come on a recon mission?”
Olik snorted.
“We’re here because General Daniels and Gun’s reconnaissance and supply mission failed. The Colonel asked, and could we refuse?”
Olik looked intently at Spartan.
“I would have contacted you on the way here, but the Colonel was adamant this had to be kept quiet. He needs our help, so do the other prisoners, if any of them still lives. There are rumours of other prisoners on Karnak. Who knows what we might find down there?”
Spartan looked at each of them in turn. He had known them a long time, but it was Gun he had known the longest. Knowing he was prisoner was worse than knowing he was dead. The old warrior had taken a step back from his leadership position on the Alliance forest world of Hyperion, but he was still a revered warrior and leader amongst the Jötnar, the first of their kind to break free of the shackles of the enemy and to join the Confederacy decades earlier.
/> Olik and Khan were both great warriors in their own right, but Olik had managed to spend a lot more time in the world of politics in the Alliance. Khan was the one Spartan had spent the most time with over the years. Even so, since the end of the war, the four had worked together to make the Special Weapons Division their own, even from their often widely dispersed locations.
Spartan reached out with both hands, and his expression softened a little.
“Brothers, we built this ship and everything around us.”
He looked to Colonel Black.
“We will get them, and if anybody gets in our way...”
Khan opened his mouth and howled with pleasure.
“If anybody gets in our way, they’ll be introduced to our little friends.”
Colonel Black didn’t understand.
“What do you mean?”
Spartan pulled out a secpad and checked the time. He spoke quietly but loud enough for them to hear. Even so, the sound of Five-Seven speaking over the speaker system drowned him out.
“ETA seventy-three minutes to the Spacebridge.”
Spartan tapped several buttons. A hatch opened up above them, and down came a sphere. Spartan stepped aside and waited until it stopped. The front opened up to reveal a harness arrangement. At the same time, the first of the mercenaries appeared at the far end of the deck. Spartan stopped and looked in their direction. They moved silently, with just the gentle sound of their rubber soled boots marking their progress. On they came until the small group of twelve stopped before them. They were all human and dressed in custom body armour, in a style reminiscent of the heavy armour worn by the Confederate Army decades earlier.
“Colonel. Our gear is ready, and so are we.”
The mercenary speaking was a tall woman of similar height to Spartan. Her head was covered in her helmet, and a black visor had dropped down to cover her eyes. Even so, Spartan could see her mouth and nose, and from the way she spoke knew right away where she was from.
“Old Earth?”
The women reached up with her hand and tapped a nodule just below the ear. With a hissing sound, the visor slid up, and she pulled away the helmet to reveal long pale blonde hair. She shook her head to release it from her armour. Spartan almost gasped as he looked upon her. She was younger than him, though not by much. Her skin was almost unblemished, but there were signs of age. His gut told him late thirties, but all of them clearly took care of themselves. She might easily be closer to fifty, not that it meant much in this day and age. He was in his sixties now, and few men came close to his fitness or strength.