Free Star Crusades Nexus: Book 09 - The Black Rift by Michael G. Thomas Page B

The machine leaned in closer.
    “Then wake up!”
    It swung the weapon across his neck, and his vision vanished in a waterfall of red. In its place was the vast open space he had been in before, hundreds of machines waiting in long ranks. It wasn’t them, the columns, or the huge vaulted ceiling that caught his attention. It was the view from the massive windows. A view of thousands of capital ships, each of them waiting patiently like people visiting some great sporting event. In the distance was some black world lit by a hidden star, presumably on the other side of the ship.
    The three machines moved in front of him, but as always, it was the red machine that took pride of place. It walked up to Spartan and pointed to his arm. Spartan looked down and immediately noticed the artificial arm that he’d been given on Earth had gone. The flesh had been covered with some form of dull linen. There were blotches of dark blood on the surface, and he could only imagine what might be there.
    “What have you done to me?”
    The machine ignored him and instead reached for the material. It caught the edge and yanked it away to reveal pale new flesh. Spartan stumbled back a step at seeing his arm once more, the forearm, muscle, bone, hand, and fingers. They were all there.
    “What? How?”
    “New flesh is the first of your gifts.”
    The machine then looked back to the lines of machines. They all waited in silence, and it would have been perfectly reasonable if every single one of them had been an empty shell.
    “What are my other gifts?”
    The machine indicated toward the waiting horde.
    “You will advise and lead our warriors into this domain. Together, we shall have our revenge and our age of enlightenment.”
    Spartan lifted his hand up in front of his face. He could move the fingers just as before, even though there was a slight tingling sensation in his muscles and tendons. He thought back of the battle on board the Rift Engine and then to Helios and beyond.
    “Yes, the worlds of the Helios. Tell us of your people. Where are they strongest?”
    Spartan looked at his hand and then to them. He could feel his mind nagging and clawing as though there was something he could simply not remember.
    “Terra Nova is their capital. Destroy it, and human resistance will crumble.”
    The machine turned to one of its comrades and then again to Spartan.
    “What of the human military? What is their weakness?”
    Spartan lifted the corner of his mouth in amusement.
    “Compassion. Threaten civilian colonies, and they will risk everything. The humans will not willingly sacrifice themselves for victory.”
    “Good,” said the machine, “We have been waiting for a champion to lead our soldiers into the new domains.”
    He pointed to other figures off in similar locations to himself. He noted that one was a Byotai and another a Helion. There were others, but they were too far away.
    “Despair will follow as each of you returns home at the head of our legions. Lay waste to all, and prepare the ground for our arrival.”
    Spartan nodded slowly in agreement. He hadn’t noticed until now, but this machine bore a mark, a black symbol in an unfamiliar script. He pointed at the imagery.
    “What are these marks?”
    The machine looked at him for a moment, assessing his posture and mannerism.
    “They are the mark of Taxxu.”
    That meant nothing to Spartan, and even less when the machine opened up. He’d seen this before, the odd metal protective suit that housed the brain and surviving functions of these ancient creatures. As this one opened, he could see the innards of this machine were like those of an animal. As the metal peeled back, it revealed flesh, bone, and tissue. It was as if he were looking inside a beetle.
    “I don’t understand.”
    From the shadow came another machine, this one almost identical in design and also red in color. It moved alongside its comrade and turned to face Spartan.
    “We are the nine-hundred and twelve.