Wings of Redemption (The Terra Nova Chronicles Book 3)

by Richard Fox

  No Netherguard, CID said.

  “The fact that this facility is so segregated—not only from the network, but from contact with the Herald’s forces—suggests it’s highly likely this is the objective we’re searching for.”

  I am not detecting-detecting any kind of…zzzzt…equipment inside suggesting stasis containers. I am registering several data-data-data dump clusters and two power-power recharging junctions. There is a network here; however, it is not-not-not tied into the main…zzzzt…system. I’m detecting five-five identical stations around the-the-the city, all operating independently of each other.

  “Five? What would the Triumvirate need with five power stations? Can you get inside?”

  What-what am I, a single process-process algorithm? The security…zzzzt…systems here are advanced, but they aren’t-aren’t one hundred percent secure. The logs only go-go-go back to just after the Triumvirate…zzzzt…arrived.

  “Sounds like they don’t want anyone knowing what they’re doing out here,” MAC said. “Not even their own people.”

  A burst data packet was just-just-just transmitted via the secondary network. The…zzzzt…source is located-located 17,032.1 hecres distance.

  “Can you decipher the packet without being detected?”

  Working. The security protocols are tied-tied to a local monitoring system only.

  “Seems shortsighted.”

  They are only-only power relay stations, CID said. I doubt anyone would-would-would have listed them as a priority…zzzzt…If we hadn’t been specifically looking for it, we probably wouldn’t have found-found it.

  “Agreed.”

  I have located-located a sixth connection. This node-node-node isn’t stationary. Receiving the schematics now...zzzzt…

  A wireframed image appeared on MAC’s optical display, drawing the outline of a long, triangular platform. The main structure of the complex formed a hollow triangle, leaving the center of the platform open where it docked with the ground stations. Each corner held a landing pad, and the entire complex was protected by a complex sensor array and energy weapon turrets.

  “Someone doesn’t want anyone getting on that platform. Can you determine its location?”

  Working, CID said. What are your-your intentions when we… zzzzt…locate the-the-the facility? If we find-find the human’s family…zzzzt…what then? Liberating them may free him. What will-will he do?

  “The Herald?”

  Yes.

  “He believes he can bring down the Triumvirate if we save his family. If that chance exists, we must pursue it. Protecting the Core is our number-one priority.”

  You believe-believe him?

  “If he was lying, he was doing an extremely good job. Everything he’s told us so far has been accurate. You said it yourself—we would not have lasted long in a true stand-up fight against him. If not for his holding back, he may well have destroyed us with his first shot.”

  An accurate assessment.

  “And why would they be keeping this facility completely separate from their main operations, if not to keep it hidden from the Herald? His story about his family is most likely accurate. And if we follow that line of logic, I would say that they are probably being held at this facility as hostages to force the Herald to comply with their demands.”

  I am detecting power fluctuations in the mobile facility. I believe they-they are preparing to dock at one of the relay stations.

  “Recall the drones.”

  MAC moved away from the edge of the building and opened his thruster panels.

  If we find-find-find them…zzzzt…what do you-you intend to do? Walk up to the…zzzzt…front door and ask-ask to speak with them?

  “I’m still working that out.”

  The location pinged on the map, and without waiting for CID’s opinion, MAC burst into a run. He reached the edge of the roof and launched himself into the air.

  Flight time estimated at-at-at one hundred twenty microcycles.

  “Keep an eye out for fighter patrols.”

  There are no…zzzzt…hostile-hostile contacts along our projected route.

  “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

  As they flew, CID retrieved several reports through the resistance communication network that the attack was failing. They’d managed to inflict a great deal of damage to the Triumvirate’s fleet, but the victory hadn’t lasted long. Kyrios, instead of trying to save what ships he could, completely obliterated any ship that moved against him, even those that had simply targeted the wrong enemy. Half his fleet was wiped out in several microcycles.

  The ground forces weren’t faring any better. The counter-grav tanks managed to hold the Netherguard back for a while, but the Emperor’s forces quickly overwhelmed the smaller Ultari army, eliminating several companies at a time.

  By the time they’d reached the second relay station, the battle for Ultar was all but over and the sun was casting long shadows across the ruined city. CID deployed their remaining drones, sending all eight to the edge of their range. MAC cycled through the visual feeds as CID calculated their best possible approach while limiting their exposure.

  There are two sets of Triumvirate fighters-fighters patrolling to-to-to the north, and two assault shuttles trailing-trailing, CID said, identifying the targets in MAC’s optical display. They have not…zzzzt…detected-detected us yet.

  MAC orbited high above the facility, giving CID time to complete his scan. Icons and information panels appeared on his optical display, identifying weapon emplacements, sensor clusters, communication antennas. Two of the landing pads were occupied by matching assault shuttles.

  A low-powered approach-approach is our best option to-to-to remain…zzzzt…undetected.

  “Prep Drones Five and Six for flyovers, make them noisy.”

  Working.

  Below, the floating facility rotated slowly as it neared the ground station, obviously preparing to dock. On the landing pads, the shuttle’s engines flared to life, kicking up similar clouds of dust. Drone One’s feed zoomed in, watching as several Ultari dressed in black body armor and rifles streamed out of the main complex and boarded the shuttles.

  Shift change?

  “Most likely.”

  Zzzzt…drones ready-ready.

  The housing panel slipped back, and two drones dropped into MAC’s waiting hands. He held them, unpowered, calculating the correct angle, then he threw them. Both drones arced through the air to the north, away from the facility. At the predetermined distance, they activated, throwing telemetry signals and burst communications in all directions. The blast of signals would play havoc with the Triumvirate’s sensors, effectively blinding their systems.

  For a moment, nothing happened, then a distant alarm sounded, and the two attack fighters abruptly changed course. The assault shuttles lifted off the pads, banking toward the oncoming drones. Several turrets came alive, rotating to meet the threat.

  Their sensors-sensors are…zzzzt…disabled.

  Without a word, MAC shut down his thrusters and plummeted toward the facility. He used the aero fins to adjust his course, following a blue trajectory line CID created over his optical display. Multiple drones stayed locked on the patrol craft as he neared the facility, watching for any sign he’d been detected. Drones Five and Six were speeding away as fast and as loud as they could manage, but the fighters would catch them shortly. Visually, they weren’t much different from Ultari remotes; it was their internals that set them apart.

  He dropped below one of the landing pads, hesitated for a microcycle as CID scanned the underside, then activated his thrusters, arresting his descent. He came up underneath the facility proper, landing on a walkway encompassing the open center of the platform. He deactivated his thrusters as soon as his feet touched down, hoping the brief burst of power would be seen as nothing more than a glitch in the system.

  The facility will-will dock in 8.5 microcycles, CID said.

  As if on cue, several plumes of exhaust v
ented from ports along the facility’s outer edge. The counter-grav pads thrummed as the platform continued to rotate, aligning itself with the docking tower on the ground.

  MAC stopped outside one of the many access hatches, placing his hand against the security panel.

  CID established a connection and said, Internal security systems are-are-are primitive.

  “They are confident in their external security.”

  They…zzzzt…underestimate their-their enemies.

  “A crucial flaw.”

  We-we-we should report this-this…zzzzt…to the Core.

  Irritation flooded MAC’s matrix. “Focus.”

  The hatch clicked open.

  My operations are-are unaffected by…zzzzt…communications.

  “Stay on mission,” MAC said, stepping through the hatch.

  The corridor inside was dark, lit only by a few panels wedged between several ducts and insulated piping running along the ceiling. Several clusters of cables were affixed to the walls and even more thicker cables snaked below MAC’s feet, which clinked on the metal-grated floor, echoing up and down the corridor.

  The first hatch he came to was marked POWER SERVICE in Ultari script. CID quickly bypassed the security and they entered a room thrumming with power.

  There is an-an-an access point here, CID said, marking the terminal on MAC’s optical display as he shut the hatch behind them.

  Again, CID’s interface with the facility’s network was devoid of complex security protocols. They would have slowed—perhaps even stopped—an Ultari infiltrator, but not one from the Core. CID bypassed several levels of basic encryption and was inside the mainframe in under three millicycles.

  I have-have identified the primary containment area, CID said, bringing up their wireframed map. The image rotated, displaying one small section of the facility outlined in red. The resources being…zzzzt…employed-employed there suggests the presence of stasis capsules.

  “The Herald’s family.”

  Unknown, but probable. There are-are-are several biological…zzzzt…monitoring programs operating in this-this section.

  “Can you access the security—”

  Already working…zzzzt…I will-will-will have control of the…zzzzt…system in…there, it’s ours-ours. I have loaded-loaded an engagement protocol, giving-giving us remote-remote access.

  Several panels appeared in MAC’s optical display, showing him the facility’s power grid and security system. He swiped through several video feeds until he came to one showing several Ultari workers, located in a room adjacent to the containment area. Three, dressed in black body armor, sat at the edges of the space, expressions bored and distant. The other five wore blue utilitarian overalls and were monitoring several screens at the center of the room.

  MAC cycled through several more feeds, mapping out the location of the rest of the facility’s personnel. “We’re going to need another distraction to make it to the stasis room.”

  Unadvisable, CID said. We should-should leave the…zzzzt…area unmolested.

  MAC shook his head, realizing just how biological the gesture was. “We need to be sure.”

  The biological information—

  “Isn’t positive confirmation,” MAC said, cutting CID off and turning for the hatch. “There’s too much at stake here to rely on circumstantial evidence. We need to know.”

  Halfway across the room, MAC’s leg froze mid-step, interruption protocols locking his motor functions. He shunted additional power, trying to overpower CID’s control. Motors whined and his leg shuddered under the strain.

  You are outside-outside primary…zzzzt…operational parameters…zzzzt…We-we-we need to return…zzzzt…to the Core.

  “This is our mission,” MAC said, establishing backup routines and connections. He isolated and keyed a limiter on CID’s processor matrix before he could commandeer further systems, then locked him out of his secondary matrix and rerouted motor control through the secured processer. His foot hit the ground with more power than necessary, sending a resounding clang through the room.

  “I’m restricting your operational control. Maintain connection to the facility’s network. We will deal with this later.”

  Affirmative. His auditory functions were limited to basic responses only. With the program limitations in place, CID lost all advanced functions, becoming little more than an auxiliary program.

  MAC made his way through the facility’s corridors, following the indicated path through the complex. CID’s basic routines continued to override the local security programs, masking them from video feeds and motion sensors.

  The chamber below the stasis area was a large room filled with rows of cylindrical vats crusted over with frost. Occasionally, exhaust from outlet vents escaped near the bottom of each tank, sending white steam rolling across the metal floor. Metal catwalks above the tanks crisscrossed the chamber. At one end of the catwalk, a red outline drew itself around a hatch on the ceiling, a maintenance access to the components between the coolant chamber and the stasis containment systems above.

  Warning, CID said.

  Alert icons flashed just before a door opened to MAC’s left. He moved, putting one of the tanks between him and the Ultari security guard entering the room. Drone One, perched on top of the tank, followed the guard as he moved through the chamber, cautiously scanning for anything out of place. MAC kept hidden behind the tank, waiting until the guard left through the opposite end of the room.

  Clear.

  MAC started moving before the door was shut completely. A burst from his thrusters got him to the catwalk and soon he was opening the maintenance access hatch and pulling himself inside. The space was cramped, but he managed to pull the hatch shut behind him, sealing him in the space between levels. He maneuvered awkwardly to the next hatch, checking the security feeds as he reached for the lever.

  The containment room was empty.

  He slipped into the room, pulling the hatch closed behind him. Two stasis pods rested in large, wraparound docking stations at the far end of the room. Monitor stations were set up on either side of the pods, complete with multiple monitors displaying rows of streaming information.

  MAC put a hand on one of the terminals, accessing the internal programing. Without CID’s advanced protocols, it took a little longer than he would’ve liked to bypass the station’s security system and access the processing matrix. He cycled through several menus until he found the one he wanted.

  The brackets around the stasis pod unlocked with a mechanical clunk, and the retention arms folded back. A small, ovoid section on the front of the pod vanished, expelling vapor that had filled the interior.

  “That’s problematic,” MAC said.

  As the vapor poured onto the floor, it revealed an empty pod.

  ****

  “We must wait,” Archduke Cigyd told Kyrios, his tone practically pleading. “We’ve beaten the resistance back, but we are in no position to threaten the Abomination, Master.”

  Beaten the resistance was an understatement. Jared cringed at the thought of what the Prefects and Netherguard were still doing throughout the city. The attack hadn’t just angered the Emperor, it had sent him into a rage unlike Jared had ever seen. He hadn’t just repelled the rebel forces, he had obliterated them, allowing no quarter. The streets literally ran red with Ultari blood.

  “We have waited long enough,” Kyrios said. “Further delay would only give the enemy more time to prepare an effective defense against us.”

  “If not launch their own preemptive attack,” Zviera added.

  “My Emperor,” Cigyd said, his tone softer than before, “you have dealt a significant blow to the resistance here, if not completely eradicated it. We have time to rebuild our forces before launching against the Abomination.”

  “We are no longer attacking the Abomination,” Kyrios said.

  Both Cigyd and Zviera looked surprised by this. The Archduke opened his mouth to speak, but the Prince beat him to it.
“Not attacking? The Abomination will not simply sit back and wait for things to happen. It remembers the Uprising just as we do.”

  Kyrios held up a hand. “Calm, Zviera. We will deal with the Abomination, but it is clear to me now that our space-going forces are not as formidable as I’d originally thought. Our warships will be picked apart before we ever get close to their Core.”

  I hate it when he’s competent, Jared thought.

  “Our ground forces, however…they are another story entirely,” Kyrios continued. “A direct action with our fleet would fail, but what if we could bypass their warships altogether?”

  “Impossible,” Cigyd said.

  Zviera nodded. “The Core is light-years away and protected inside the most secure ring of space in the galaxy. How exactly do you mean to circumnavigate that?”

  Jared’s blood ran cold. No, he thought, already knowing what the Emperor was going to say.

  “The Crucible.”

  The Archduke seemed to perk up. He’d been vying to move against Terra Nova from the moment they’d left. “The humans?”

  Kyrios nodded. “Their Crucible gates have the ability to move ships immense distances without the need for FTL drives. We can position our troop ships directly over the Abomination’s Core world and begin the invasion before the scourge has any idea what is happening.”

  Images of Netherguard descending on Terra Nova flashed through Jared’s mind—thousands of killers flooding the streets, ripping the colony apart, finishing what they’d started all those years ago.

  What he’d started.

  He considered reaching out to the Regulos infiltrator, but with the network still down, he was sure Kyrios would be able to trace his link faster than he could get a message out. No alarms had been raised since he’d spoken with the infiltrator, which meant either the droid hadn’t found his family or it was just that good.

  “The humans will not simply give us the Crucible technology,” Zviera said.

  You’re damn right they won’t, Jared thought, bringing his attention back to the Triumvirate.