The Great Betrayal

Chapter SEVEN

Commander Gun was the first of the Jötnar to break free of the shackles of the Echidna cultists in the Great Uprising. Named for the great gun that was strapped to his arm, he turned to become one of the great heroic warriors of that war. By the end of the struggle, he had emerged as the leader of the Jötnar and a great friend of the Confederacy. His return to the military would see him promoted to the command of an entire battalion. As more Jötnar signed up for military service, they would become a common sight in the ranks of the Marine Corps where their strength and military prowess was greatly valued. Gun would forever be remembered as the first of his people though, a creature born to destroy humanity, and one that instead became one of its greatest heroes.



Heroes of the Great Uprising





The three Alliance Thunderbolts screamed across the dull skies of Helios, each leaving a vapor trial in their wake as they chased a group of heavy Helion fighter drones that were making for the scores of marine transports, landing craft, and landers. Unlike the squat ducted fan fighters, the Thunderbolts were small craft with a recognizable silhouette, due to the pair of sloping wings from which two mighty hybrid engines sucked in air to compress, ignite, and then blast out behind them. They were the fastest and most agile fighter in the Alliance inventory, but even they were slow, compared to the pair of Animosh low altitude drone interceptors. They moved around them with agility only possible with unmanned aircraft to try and protect their heavy fighter brethren. The Alliance pilots did their best to avoid their pursuers and focused their efforts on the heavy fighters, the craft most able to harm the marines’ land operation.

“Now!” cried the pilot of the lead fighter.

All three craft opened fire with the nose-mounted cannons. Round after round blasted about the Animosh craft, and two were quickly destroyed, leaving just a single one in the air. It pulled up, trying to escape, but a heat-seeking missile launched from one of the Thunderbolts chasing it exploded just a meter behind its engine unit. With a red flash, the fighter tore apart.

“Gotcha!” shouted the pilot of the second.

“Cut the chatter Yellow Two. We’ve got bogies, three marks right behind us.”

These interceptors were much smaller than the larger fighter drones, and although lighter armed, they were prefect for high-speed chases like this one. Every time the Thunderbolts tried to evade, the interceptors closed the distance.

“Break formation, keep them off the landers!” the Squadron Captain ordered.

The Helion interceptors were an advanced form of ornithopter, shaped like winged insects, and had been nicknamed Bugs by the Alliance fighter pilots. The wings vibrated so that they left a barely discernible blur along the flanks of the craft and darted about almost as if able to ignore the rules of physics.

“Yellow Two to Yellow Leader, they have me!” the pilot on the left called out in a desperate voice.

“Break low and run hot!” called out the leader.

Without hesitation, the fighter turned upside down and dropped down nose first toward the ground, its engine burning almost white hot. One of the interceptors chased it, but the young Captain in charge of the squadron rushed down after it. They lost almost a thousand meters of altitude before they reached the highest peaks of the city. Yellow Two ducked between the massive structures while the interceptor fired burst after burst. All the while, Yellow Leader moved to get the perfect shot. Then he had it, and with a short burst, the interceptor spun out of control and struck a tower beacon.

“Thanks, Yellow Leader, I owe you!”

Behind the swarm of dog fighting Thunderbolts and Helion drones, followed the Marine Corps landing craft. These massive landers could place an entire company of marines into the heart of battle. They were armored and equipped with the best defensive systems available. This was the latest iteration of the model, now known simply as the Mauler, due to the battery of twenty-four spigot mortars that were arranged in armored housings on each side of the craft’s front section. It was a heavy assault lander and perfect for attacking contested positions. One of the Helion Bug interceptors moved around it to attack, but two automated turrets tore it apart before it could fire its weapon.

“Yellow Squadron, return to formation!” called out the Squadron Leader.

Their formation had scattered, and it took almost a minute for the three fighters to pull back to join the rest of the fighter cover for the Maulers. No sooner had they formed up, more interceptors returned. The Maulers stayed close together and used mutually supporting gunfire, much like the massive blocks of heavy bombers used back on Earth in the wars of the twentieth century. More interceptors rushed in from the east, and Yellow Leader tagged them on his helmet display.

“Hostiles, intercept!”

They peeled off and were quickly surrounded by a formation of the Bugs. One Thunderbolt exploded as it collided with the group, and gunfire flashed around the two survivors.

“We’re under fire!” called out the pilot of the lead Thunderbolt as it banked to the right. The pursuing interceptor drones raked it with gunfire, shattering one engine and putting a dozen holes in its fuselage.

“Mayday, mayday, I’m going down!”

The remaining fighter dropped its countermeasures as it did its best to shake off the interceptors. At this altitude the drones had a massive advantage, and it was unable to strike back before they could shoot. Another Thunderbolt from a different squadron was hit before the turrets of the following Mauler were in range. Two more fighters plummeted downward, along with the wrecks of a dozen interceptor Bugs. Meanwhile the wave of landing craft rushed down to the waiting landing sites, each preselected by Alliance agents and their rebels allies. Though the fighters were taking heavy casualties, they’d done their job and kept the drones away from the landing craft.

“Bastards!” Yellow Leader swore, as he punched the eject button.

The entire crew section of the fighter blasted away from the burning wreckage, and retro thrusters cut the speed before three parachutes deployed to slow the descent. The Captain watched as the pilot from the first fighter dropped down with his parachute fluttering above him, and the first of the landing craft swooped down to an open street. A handful of Helions, presumably Animosh fighters, moved to intercept but were quickly engulfed in a massive barrage, as all twenty-four assault mortars devastated an area a hundred meters wide in front of the craft. The pilot smiled as he saw the cloud of smoke, knowing full well that from within that craft a hundred marines would surge out and overwhelm the scattered Animosh in seconds.

Now it’s our turn! he thought happily, then realizing the predicament he was in. His chute had caught a strong current, and he was moving away from the landing zones and into Helion controlled territory.

Oh...great, this is just what I need! he thought bitterly.



* * *





The gun line was thin, with just a small number of the Alliance’s marines intermixed with rebel fighters. Yet the combined fire of L52 carbines, and the occasional L48 rifle, was impressive and gave the impression of far more defenders. It was continuous and also extremely accurate. More of the Helion rebels had joined them, now that they could see the Alliance ground forces would stand and protect them. The coilguns blasted holes in the armor while the L48 rifles exploded charges inside the formation. It didn’t take long for the three blocks of Animosh to start to crumble. Jack fired again and then dropped the now empty L48 to return to his carbine. Movement to his left caught his eye, and he turned slightly to see Wictred leap over the barricade on his own.

“Wictred!” he shouted, fearful for his friend.

The Corporal ignored his shout, and sporadic fire from the buildings on the other side of the street forced Jack back to the safety of the improvised precinct defenses. He fired a short burst at one of the muzzle flashes and then saw Wictred out in the open. A dozens thermal projectiles struck his armor, yet one only managed to do much damage. He ignored them as if it was nothing but rain and jumped onto the debris sheltering the three machines. One of the combat drones opened fire directly into his chest. He stumbled and fell down into the cover. A shattered arm flew out and landed on the ground.

“No!”

Then Jack spotted the Wictred stumbling to the side. It wasn’t him. He found himself unable to fire as he watched his friend smash his great armored fists into the combat drones. They tried to return fire, each of them refusing to give ground. The fight reminded him of what his father, Spartan, had told him of the fighting on Hyperion against the Biomechs. The machines had no interest in protecting themselves. They were simply given their orders, and Wictred was taking full advantage of that fact. It was only then that Jack noticed the guns had fallen silent. The Animosh waited patiently with many of them watching the machines battle away. Even the marines and the rebels had halted their shooting.

“What’s going on down there?” demanded Sergeant Stone.

Jack was sure he could hear the Sergeant’s voice outside of his suit and turned his head. He saw him plus a four-man fireteam moving out of the main door of the tower and approach the barricade. Jack turned his upper body to see him more clearly.

“It’s Wictred, Sergeant. He’s fighting the machines.”

Sergeant Stone moved closer and stood up tall to look out over the improvised defenses. From his position, he had a clear view of the fight and also presented an easy target to the Animosh.

“That crazy son of a bitch!” he said, without any sense of amusement.

He turned his attention to the marines sitting at the barricades.

“Drones have picked up a dozen transport vehicles inbound, plus air support. Get your asses inside and prepare to defend that tower.”

He pointed behind him at the tall structure with its small door, massively thick walls, and dozens of small windows. Jack looked at them, noting how they were at least three meters from the ground and spaced widely apart. They could have been no larger than his head, perhaps even smaller.

It’s the perfect fort, or prison, he thought to himself.

“Move it, marines, go, go, go!”

In seconds, the whole of his squad was breaking from the cover and making their way inside. One man stood out in a light gray version of the PDS armor and was speaking with the Helion rebels at the barricades. He then returned to the tower, along with all but four of the rebels. Jack was the last of the marines to leave. He stayed in position, checking through his sight at Wictred’s battle. One machine was a piece of junk on the ground; the second fought on without its weapons and just one arm. The third had backed away and lifted its thermal cannon.

It’s going to shoot them both!

Jack was convinced of it, and if it fired at that range, there was a good chance Wictred would be struck in the back of the head. Jack activated the high-power mode on his L52 and took careful aim. Only the armed machine was stationary, and he had the perfect target. With a single pull, the three magnetized rounds slammed into the weapon itself, triggering an explosion that blew the weapon apart and tore chunks off the front of the combat drone. It took just seconds for Wictred to finish the remaining machines off. He looked back in the direction of the barricades. Nobody but Jack was waiting for him.

“Wictred, get back here, now!” cried out his friend.

Wictred needed no further encouragement and staggered back to the line, leaving the ruined machines behind. As he covered the open ground, Jack could see the damage to his armor. A burn mark on his chest marked the point where the first thermal round had struck, and there were dozens of smaller dents and signs of damage from his waist upward. One of the guns had been bent in half on his arm, yet he moved as if leaving a training field. When he reached the barricade, the Animosh called out, and as one, they broke from their cover and surged toward the now abandoned defenses.

“Come on!” Jack shouted.

He jumped up, loosed off a burst at the Animosh, and ran for the small door at the base of the tower. L52 shots rang out above him as marines on the upper levels of the tower rained down fire on the attackers. The door opened as he reached it, and Sergeant Stone himself manhandled him in. Wictred was close behind and crashed through the doorway, his armored body only just fitting inside, tearing a chunk of masonry from the wall as he did so.

“Watch out!” called out a voice from the dark interior. Jack did as he was told, just as the robotic Rams charged inside; first the supply unit and then the armored combat unit. They moved inside like a pair of metal animals, and Private Jenkell slammed the door shut behind them. Two more marines pushed a heavy storage unit made of metal against.

“I told you two to get back inside,” the Sergeant said sternly. “Now get on the line. We need to hold this place!”

Jack nodded and moved away, not before spotting a glimmer of a smile on the man’s face. It wasn’t much and vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Wictred joined Jack at the base of the interior, and he could now see the inside of the building. It was barren, much as he had expected. There were no sculptures or great artworks there, just bare stone and a number of wall-mounted computer units that no longer functioned. He moved to the nearest window before realizing he could never actually reach it.

“Uh, Jack, maybe this might help?”

He looked at Wictred, struggling to hide a laugh as the giant dragged a metal desk over to the outer wall. The tower was empty, and there were arched access points to the walls on two sides, with the third pointing inside to the main building. There were no doors; only large, featureless arches that would be easy get through.

“This place makes our barracks look like a five star hotel,” he muttered, climbing atop the desk.

“Watch that mouth, Private!” barked Sergeant Stone.

Jack hadn’t even realized the man was still so near. He had the uncanny ability to be able to move around without making a sound. Unlike the rest of the marines, he had his helmet’s visor open to show his face in all its bitter glory.

“I want a squad at the windows. The rest of you prepare secondary defenses at these points.”

He indicated toward the three arches that led to the other parts of the precinct. The intelligence agent appeared at one of the arches, along with a group of five Zathee rebels and two synthetics. Several of the marines turned their attention away from the windows to look at them before Sergeant Stone shouted back.

“You heard me the first time, marines! Get your eyeballs on the target. These are local boys, nothing more.”

He then walked along the interior of the tower, right along the outer wall so that he could inspect the defenses. He stopped at every window and made sure the marines were in the correct positions.

“Remember, if they see you, they will kill you. Keep your heads down and prepare yourselves.”

Jack was now high enough to look outside and risked a quick glance. As the drone had shown, the Animosh had secured the street, and further vehicles were arriving some distance away. As he moved his head, the overlay showed where the detected enemy was even if they were obstructed from his view. As he watched them, something occurred to him.

“Sergeant Stone, why do they want this place so badly? We got the officials out, didn’t we?”

The Sergeant moved past him to the next marine before answering.

“Good point, marine. Don’t forget, they don’t know they all made it. There is a much more important reason though.”

“Location,” said Wictred, remembering the briefing.

“Exactly,” said Stone. “Whoever controls this point will command access into the rest of the city. The precinct is the center of their line, and they were fools to not have a larger garrison.”

Sergeant Stone spoke to the intelligence officer who approached with his group of Helions. They exchanged a few words before the officer spoke to the others.

“The Helions overran all the buildings in this area as the uprising began. They thought it would be over quickly, but the Animosh regrouped and retook the key buildings in less than a day.”

He rotated and pointed with both hands at the interior of the precinct. The place looked as though it had been abandoned for more than the few days it had actually had been. Jack suspected the Helions would have looted the place, but it wasn’t easy to tell. He’d never been in such a place.

“The only reason we are here now is that these survivors of the Helion government were trapped here. The Zathee and some of the other Helions stayed with them and waited for help…that’s where we come in.”

“Why these Helions? Aren’t they all enemies of the Zathee?” asked Jack.

The officer shook his head as he repeated Jack’s words to the Helions. It was in that moment Jack recognized the face of the synthetic Helion. It was the one that had helped them in the fight many months earlier.

What was his name? he thought, yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember.

“Vadi?” Wictred called out, and in a flash Jack recalled his final conversation with the synthetic. He hadn’t know the name of the two that helped in the battle on the tower, yet Vadi had been the only one to live and had dragged Jack into one of the Hammerheads. The scars on his face were the giveaway, a mark he had received when Helion security forces had struck at him in the battle. The synthetic lurched out from behind the heavily armed Zathee rebels and smashed his fist down onto Wictred’s chest before looking up to Jack. He smiled, revealing a mouth much like Wictred and full of damaged, misshapen teeth.

“Jack Mora!” he growled with obvious pleasure.

It wasn’t exactly his name, but Jack reached down to shake his hand nonetheless. The synthetic and Wictred could easily have been distant cousins, if it hadn’t been for the lighter build and form of Vadi.

“How are you?” asked Jack, almost too politely.

Vadi continued to grin, and it was clear he had no idea what Jack was saying. The intelligence officer appeared agitated when another Helion ran in shouting. They spoke for just a few seconds before he started to speak in his radio. He finally looked to Sergeant Stone.

“Sergeant, reports from the local Zathee. The Animosh are moving underground and have captured the residential block there. They’ve cut off our only ground link with units from the 17th.”

He pointed to his left, but none of them could see much inside the thick walls of the precinct. Captain Carter was clearly apprised of the same information, as his voice interrupted their conversation from within every single marine’s helmet.

“Captain Carter here. We have a problem. Animosh commandos have captured the nearby residential block and are reinforcing the area with armored units. They have missiles on the roof.”

Jack shook his head; he knew exactly what that meant.

“Great,” muttered Wictred, “we’re on our own now.”

Each looked to their windows while Sergeant Stone organized the bulk of the Helions and the remaining marines with the barricading of the interior of the precinct. He kept a single squad of twelve marines just through the archway and inside the main building of the precinct as a reserve.

“We can hold this place. I want every man, woman, and child on the firing line. Keep the Animosh busy. Our backup won’t be here for some time,” he said calmly.

Captain Carter’s voice finally returned.

“Phase Two of this operation is already underway. We must hold until relieved, Carter out.”

The tall form of Private Callahan caught Jack’s attention as he waved feverishly at his window. There were a dozen of them in the same situation, including Wictred who had managed to drag more furniture to the wall to reach a window of his own.



* * *





General Daniels looked at the tactical map with a growing feeling on unease. None of the reinforcements had landed yet, and the icons of the ground battle showed the number of enemy forces was increasing by the minute. There were different colors to represent the Alliance forces, Helion security forces, and the rebels. He hadn’t appreciated quite how insignificant his own forces were in terms of numbers until he saw them on the map. The city was of a misnomer, and rebels surrounded the central government region on all sides.

Will they hold? he thought.

Numbers were one thing, but a Zathee civilian with no combat skills or military weapons couldn’t be expected to hold against a concerted attack. Reports near the precinct already showed the rebels had been easily brushed aside, and more forces were arriving to help the surrounded Helions and their dreaded Animosh. In theory, the capital should have fallen days earlier, but the Animosh were steadily retaking lost ground.

What happens when they meet with Gun’s forces? He’ll be chomping at the bit to take them on.

Captain Hardy entered the open plan room from the CIC.

“General. Admiral Lewis reports that several small fleets are approaching; they are civilian ships under the flag of the Khreenk Federation. ”

General Daniels knew the fear of Admiral Lewis only too well. He could see the man in the CIC opposite, and he appeared to have his hands full managing his fleet of ships around Helios. It was a lot of space, and his resources were limited. Daniels seriously doubted the Alliance could stop a concerted approach by any of the other factions.

“I see, are they a problem?”

Captain Hardy shrugged.

“Unknown, General. Admiral Lewis suggests you deploy earlier rather than later, just in case.”

The man returned to the CIC, and Daniels turned his attention back to his small war room. Apart from the central tactical display, there were dozens of screens around them that showed direct tactical feeds from company commanders on the ground. He watched the other three senior commanders as they busied themselves with the management of their units.

This is going well, perhaps too well.

In the past, they might have been on the surface, but this was a new way of commanding the battle. They could do all of their work from this one place, deep inside the heavily armored hull of the Alliance’s flagship. General Daniels had seen his fair share of action, and he had absolute confidence in the officers on the ground. He’d been a young marine officer once, and he’d sparred and then fought alongside Spartan in the Uprising. He now commanded three battalions of marines in the first major land operation on alien soil in history. Its significance for now was lost on all of them as they had the lives of marines to look after, and none of them took this lightly. Not least the lives of the civilians they had promised to protect.

“They are bringing in unexpected numbers of reinforcements. Intel screwed up big-time on this. My recon units have intercepted groups moving underground,” said Lieutenant Colonel Koerner.

The others looked at the points he’d marked on the map.

“Praetor Grani was the head of the Animosh in the central districts. The Zathee say he and his commanders are now in charge. They’ve taken control of the capital buildings, including the council, and all of note in the hundred kilometer-wide sector.”

He then planted his finger a third the way from the right of Praetor Grani’s territory.

“This is the Animosh precinct and the attached transport hub. As of right now, they still control it. We believe it is how they are moving large numbers of supporters from the rebel districts. If we aren’t quick, they’ll have thousands more in position.”

General Daniels wiped his brow but managed to stay calm and collected.

“Understood. So we have the precinct, and we know the Animosh have it boxed in securely on three fronts. How about the eastern approach?”

Lieutenant Colonel Koerner shook his head.

“They had already cut off the eastern route with scouts when we arrived. Since then, they’ve brought in over a thousand more plus combat drones.”

“It’s worse than that,” said Colonel Horst Brünner, commander of the 4th Battalion. His slightly chubby face betrayed a mixture of boredom and irritation at what was happening in the battle.

“By landing here,” he pointed at the precinct, “you have left a salient that we will have to respond to. I can guarantee that Praetor Grani will be mounting every anti-air weapon he can find to stop us.”

“Good!” growled Gun in reply.

Daniels could see the anger between Brünner and Gun, but he had neither the time nor the inclination to get involved just yet. Instead, he pointed at the precinct.

“This is my plan...and I choose to leave the recon units exposed in this place for a very good reason.”

The officers were now silent, but Daniels could see Gun was smiling.

Why is it that of all the officers I have, the violent brute is the one that understands?

He waited but no one had anything to say. It was odd, as the plan was a textbook operation, one that he was sure almost any Alliance officer would attempt to pull off. Finally, Gun pointed at the frontline his own forces had established along the eastern approach to the capital buildings. It was a broad front; far more than just the marines would be able to control.

“My forces have linked up with rebel troops and are building up numbers here, here, and here.”

He pointed to three key areas that were equally spaced apart, with only one on the same path as the precinct, yet it was more than twenty kilometres away from it.

“My marines have provided limited tactical support. So far, the Animosh have seen only a small portion of our forces.”

Daniels could see that Gun understood. He watched and left Gun to continue explaining.

“By controlling this one strongpoint in the center of the enemy, you are drawing their forces from the fighting with the rebels. If they want to capture it, they will need their best forces away from the front.”

“Exactly,” said General Daniels. “As soon as the relief mission begins, I will give the signal to our agents on the surface. The Zathee have been deliberately withdrawing to build up numbers for the final push.”

Again, the other two commanders looked surprised at this news.

“A ruse?” asked Lieutenant Colonel Koerner. “You are happy for the rebels to give up so much ground, and so quickly?”

Daniels looked out at the naval officers in the adjoining CIC before looking back at the tactical map. It was all in real-time and offered a degree of control he doubted any general had ever had in the past. It was almost like playing some kind of abstract video game.

Except in this game, I can get people killed, a lot of people.

“The ground is irrelevant to us and to the Zathee rebels. All that matters is who is controlling this city and planet within the month. If I have to lose ten square kilometres, well, fine. I need them weakened and concentrated in a place where our own forces can do their work.”

Now Lieutenant Colonel Koerner seemed to grasp it.

“So, we send in armor to the precinct and then engage their best forces right in the heart of their home ground?”

Daniels nodded.

“Exactly. The rebels will stand no chance against the Animosh, and they will fare even worse against their machines. No, this means the rebels can strike hard, knowing that we will take care of the hard core of their forces.”

“What about the rumors of mercenaries?” asked Colonel Brünner.

General Daniels noticed how the man kept this kind of information until it was of benefit. He wondered what else the man might be keeping to himself during this operation.

This man is a heartless, selfish bastard. I’ll have to deal with him when this is over.

“I’ve heard nothing other than the suggestion by intelligence that our escorts have intercepted two small ships on the way back from the Khreenk Federation. They have been turned back.”

Colonel Brünner pointed to the CIC of the ship.

“So there is a chance there could be more of them as we speak, trying to run our blockade of the planet?”

This man is starting to bore me.

“None of this is relevant right now.”

He returned to the map and pointed to Gun.

“What’s the status of the landing grounds, are they ready yet?” he asked.

Gun nodded quickly.

“Yes, my marines have taken all but one of the objectives. Fighter cover kept their interceptors of the Maulers, and every one of them landed without casualties. The last is a fortified strong point. It has been surrounded while we secure the three landing grounds. They are in our hands, and the local Zathee are expanding them for us for larger transports.”

Daniels seemed pleased at this news, but once more Colonel Brünner interrupted.

“So you left an enemy bastion in the middle of your line?”

“Colonel, enough!” snapped General Daniels, his patience now exhausted.

“The priority is to secure a frontline to pin the remaining security forces into battle with the rebels. This bastion as you call it is a distraction, nothing more. Colonel Gun is correct in his assessment. The landing zones are the priority. Until we bring in the armor, we will be stuck with over two thousand marines with no heavy equipment, transport, or protection.”

Colonel Brünner winced at this retort. It was clear he wasn’t used to being spoken to in this way, and Daniels knew full well this man and his political connections would make his life difficult after this operation.

Ah, well, now I know how Spartan felt.

He took a long, exasperated breath before returning to the map.

“Now, let’s get our armor on that planet. It’s time the Animosh were introduced to our Bulldogs. I suspect they will not want to play.”

Gun and Colonel Koerner both grinned at this, but Colonel Brünner was evidently furious at being spoken down to. Daniels spotted his face and shook his head in irritation.

“Let’s hit them, and hit them hard!”