“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Marcus asked.
Misaki raised her eyebrows, desperately wanting to know what they were talking about.
“We need to control that communications tower so we can get a signal out to warn the Admiral and anybody else who is listening. There is a sickness down here, something dark and dangerous and I think Confed are going to want to hear about it.”
“I’ve got an even better idea,” said Tigris. He pressed three buttons and brought up the images of the prisoners in one of the sectors where they were engaged in bloody fighting with a small number of guards. “What do you think the public would think if we could show them pictures of this? Video footage of the prisoners, the guards, the labs and the Biomechs being built here from the flesh and blood of our own people.”
Spartan nodded with a wry grin. “Tigris, now you’re thinking like an officer. Turn the population against their masters.”
“Okay then, what do we need to do?” Marcus asked.
“Tigris, somehow I don’t think they are just going to let us walk into that place and start using their system. Also, when they realise what we’re doing won’t they just destroy the communications gear?”
“Time isn’t so much the problem, Spartan. As long as we can get a data packet out of this area I can lock onto any repeater stations in orbit around the planet. If we can transmit a general distress for up to a minute it will propagate throughout the network on the public channels.”
“Are you sure, Tigris?” asked Misaki.
“What’s the point of a clear, unencrypted data channel if you can’t transmit to it in an emergency? That’s why we have it! But we need to hit the computer centre and fast, before they get there first.”
Tigris brought up the map to the compound centred on their position in the security room. The site had the look of a spider with them positioned halfway along on the left. Four of the legs were fitted out with harvesting rooms, prison cells and at the tip were the shipyards. Another four arms were in various states of completion. Tigris traced his hand from the tip of their leg on the base.
“So this is where we all arrived. Each end of the leg section leads to the surface where the loading bays, platforms and hangars. As you move in you come to the prison cells and the barracks. Now there is one barrack building per leg. We’ve been fighting one of them so far. If you move further along the leg it gets wider till you reach the centre.”
“What’s in the middle?” asked Spartan.
“The harvesting areas and shipyards are based around the wide sections of each leg where it joins the central hub. The main office for the Governor is here, at the end of our leg.”
“Why isn’t he in the middle?”
“I don’t know, good question, Marcus. I’ve only seen a small part of this myself. I might have been a guard but they never trusted us with more than one sector.”
Misaki moved the map to get a closer look at the central hub. She zoomed in to examine the shafts, corridors and rooms. “Okay, it looks like the computer centre is right in the middle, further below the surface than any other part of the base. Why? Don’t computers usually go further away from heat?”
“Could be using the thermal energy to power the place. Also, don’t forget if this place is as heavily protected and controlled from elsewhere you’re going to want the computer gear as far away from the surface and interruption as possible,” said Spartan. Misaki looked back to the map and continued.
“If you move up you’ll come to the large barracks structure. Above that, right on the surface is a massive open area with access doors leading to the surface.”
Tigris leaned in and quickly spotted the obvious.
“They are for launching ships when they are completed in the shipyards I would think. Look, the route from the yards is short and direct, right to the surface.”
“The route from here to the computer centre leads right past more prison blocks, then the barracks before we get to the security gate here. We’d have to reach it, defeat or bypass the guards and then smash the gate to reach the elevators to the centre,” said Spartan, partly to himself and also to the group.
“No, the elevators are out as long as the security system is down. It’s all part of the system.”
A loud thumping sound came from the corridor and they all turned as the Biomech lumbered inside. The creature looked bored, it had been stood in the corridor for some time now as they went over what to do. It glanced at each of them and then at the screen before turning to Spartan.
“Well?”
“We’re going to show everyone what is happening down here. When we’ve done that we’re freeing your friends from these bastards!” said Spartan firmly.
“Good!” growled the creature with a satisfied expression on its face.
“What’s your name?” asked Misaki.
“Name? We have no names,” it replied in a monotone voice.
Spartan moved up to him and looked carefully at the creature’s face. “Yeah, he has a name, look at him. He’s a crazy bastard, just like me!”
“Well?” asked Misaki impatiently. Spartan turned back to look at her.
“Gun.”
Marcus shook his head at the idea.
“Gun?” asked the creature before looking back to Spartan. It lifted its arm to show him the Gatling gun.
“Yes, Gun!” he growled with obvious pleasure.
* * *
The Tamarisk sat on the landing pad, its legs extended to support the vast bulk of the vessel. Most stations would be unable to house such a craft but this Prometheus Trading Station was one of the largest manmade structures in the entire Confederacy. At the bottom of the ramp Commander Anderson, Bishop and Teresa stood waiting. Kowalski stayed behind on the ship in case of trouble and to man the ship’s weapons in case they needed to make a hasty retreat.
“Where are they? We’re in the right place?” asked Teresa.
Bishop checked his datapad confirming the landing spot was to be Bay 14. He looked up and spotted the peeling red paint up on the wall. “Look, like I said, 14, we’re in the right place.”
Almost on cue the circular door leading away from the landing platform hissed open to reveal two men, one in a scruffy leather jacket and a pair of faded combat fatigues, the other in a cheap suit. Both walked up to them and stopped three metres away. The man in the leather jacket moved ahead slightly.
“I’m Angelo, this is my associate Mr Jones who resides on this station.”
“I’m Ter...” started Teresa before the man raised his hand and cut her off.
“Please, no names here. I know who you are and you know more than enough about me already. If you’re ready I have somewhere a little more private where you can meet the rest of the group and let me know about the plan. Are you ready?”
Commander Anderson nodded. “We’re ready.”
“Good. Let’s go,” said Angelo who then turned and walked back through the doorway, closely followed by the man in the suit. Commander Anderson moved up behind with the other two following. Bishop tapped him gently on the shoulder as they were leaving.
“The plan?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah, we’ll think about that when we have information from Hex. Just play along.” Bishop turned to Teresa who was leaning in to listen.
“It just keeps getting better and better doesn’t it?” he said with a grin.
“Great,” replied Teresa as she slid her hand away from the concealed pistol tucked inside her jacket.
They went though the doorway and into a small arrivals lounge. It was obviously well used by traders and travellers rather than tourists or more important personnel. The walls were worn, the interior was shabby and grimy. As they carried on Angelo turned his head to speak to them.
“It doesn’t look much but this is the quietest part of the station. There are more salubrious places of course,” he explained and gestured off to a set of airlock doors to the right. “You first.”
> Teresa and Bishop walked up to the door as it opened automatically. They felt a subtle but noticeable difference in air pressure and temperature. Inside was a circular room with a high ceiling and many reflective surfaces. In the middle was a water feature that babbled away into a small recessed pond. Teresa went through the door and stayed close to the wall. As she moved slowly along the perimeter Bishop came in and did the same on the other side. Angelo nodded and indicated for Commander Anderson to enter. He paused for a moment before stepping through the entrance, the rest followed closely behind.
“Interesting place you have here,” said Anderson as the door slid behind them. As it shut the room must have pressurised as he could feel a slight change in his ears.
“Just wait a moment,” said Angelo as he stood still.
A barely audible clunk echoed through the room that was followed by a low level hum.
“We are clear now, please, have a seat,” he said pointing to the green chairs that were scattered about the place.
The water in the middle of the room continued to fall and that, along with the odd hum and air pressure, made all three of the crew feel uneasy.
“It’s no big deal. This is our meeting room, it is ionized and cleansed by our scrubbers, we have sensors throughout and the water helps as an audio screen. It is almost impossible to bug this place,” explained Angelo.
Commander Anderson sat down and beckoned for Teresa and Bishop to do the same. As they did so Angelo and the man in the suit did as well. With the five of them seated Angelo spoke first.
“Please, no names, even here. Understood?”
Anderson and the rest nodded in agreement and it looked like Anderson was going to speak first before Angelo beat him to it.
“I have been monitoring traffic in this System for the past three weeks and there are a few anomalies that might be of interest you and your business here. Before we start though I assume you are familiar with the situation here?”
Before anybody could speak the man in the suit explained.
“You should know that this System is not easy to reach so when people do get here they tend to stay for some time. We have a lot of traffic between the planet, research labs, factories, quarries, stations and the like. So much that we have no adequate way of monitoring what goes on here. On top of this the locals are hostile to any external influences on what they do. There are literally hundreds of organisations and corporations with a vested interest in this System and all of them make use of private security. You can’t even visit a factory or planetary mining facility without a dozen guns pointing at you. I assume you are aware of the high levels of drug trafficking here as well as slavers, prostitution and unregulated fighting?”
“Let me stop you there,” said an irritable Anderson. “We’ve been here before and we’re well aware of the undesirable nature of this place. That isn’t why we are here now. What do you know about us and are there anomalies?”
Angelo nodded with a slight smile coming to his face.
“Good, I heard you were a man of action, not words.”
He reached down and pulled out a small device about the size of his hand. Laying it out in front of him it flickered several times before showing a holographic model of the station.
“First of all I know you are here to find someone, the trouble is so is everybody else. In the last three weeks the amount of external traffic has increased by two hundred per cent. That isn’t the real deal though, what interests me is that most of the new traffic is coming right through the storms.”
“I thought the storms were dangerous?” asked Bishop, trying to sound innocent. Commander Anderson threw him a look that told him to keep his mouth shut.
“Quite. The current reports show over a dozen ships have been lost in the last five days alone. Somebody it seems really wants to move something back and forth and they aren’t worried about the risks. All that to change the flight time to weeks instead of months. Would you know anything about that?”
Commander Anderson shrugged, saying nothing.
“I see. Well, as far as what you wanted done here I have a number of people on retainer that can be assembled within the hour.”
“What kind of people?”
“Engineers, technicians, security specialists, pilots...useful people. I’ve been instructed by Ganymede to make my full dossiers available for your perusal,” he said with a look of interest in his face.
“Good, for now we have an operation on this station to attend to. The matter of the arms fair.”
“Ah, yes, I have secured access for the three of you to visit in the next thirty minutes. Your details are already logged under the name of your trade ship Tamarisk.”
“They know our ship?” demanded Teresa.
“Of course, all vessels docking or landing at stations will be logged. It is always easier to hide something in plain sight.”
“How about you? Are you coming?” she asked him.
“No, I’m already known to several of the buyers that might be there. I will be on standby at this frequency. Use the access codes I attached with the communication earlier. When do you plan on attending the fair?”
“Immediately, we can’t afford to lose any time,” said Anderson as he made to move.
“Before you go it’s important that you understand the people you will be dealing with. From my sources I already know two of them are selling weapons to the drug Cartels on the Rim and one is a known cop killer from Kerberos. Don’t kid around with them, they play tough and they act tougher,” he said seriously.
“Don’t worry, we can handle ourselves,” replied Teresa as she stood up.
The man in the suit beckoned for them to wait a little longer.
“This particular arms fair is specifically personal firearms, especially those of a more unusual and specialist nature.”
“Unusual, you mean illegal?” asked Teresa.
“Of course, you won’t find much in the way of legal civilian weapons there. So don’t make a fuss when you spot gear that has been taken from Confed stores. There’s a lot of cachet to making use of stolen military gear. The Black Blades Gang on this station was famous for all using Confed Army issue pistols and blades.”
“Yeah, made it easy to track them though,” Angelo interrupted.
“To get there taken the elevator to the fifteenth level, you will exit from the service shaft into the back section of the main foyer. It is always very busy, watch for pickpockets and head to the main desks. Above the desks are the screens for conferences, meetings, demonstrations and the like. You are looking for the Tactical Gear and Supplies Fair.”
Bishop and Teresa looked at each other in confusion.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a simple cover for the main event. When you arrive you will need to ask for the ‘specials’. That will get you into the more exotic line-up of kit. After that you’re on your own. Remember, there are no police out here. The Trading Station has its own security personnel and they always, and I mean always, come down on the side of those with the biggest wallet.”
Commander Anderson stood up and headed to the door. Teresa and Bishop were close behind him. Angelo stood up and watched them leaving the room.
“My associate will be here if you need us, you have my details, just be cool. I’ll make sure the team is ready for your inspection. Good luck.”
As they left the door shut behind them leaving the three out in the quiet, slightly damp corridor. There were only two directions they could take, either left to where they had landed or right that led further inside the station.
“Ready?” asked the Commander.
Bishop nodded as Teresa checked her pistol was in position before confirming.
“You only brought the synthetic, right?” he asked her.
“Yeah, and she’s loaded with plastics only.”
“It’s time for you to hide it somewhere discreet.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll have to get real friendly to find it,” she said with
a smile.
Anderson grinned and then turned to check their route. “It’s time then, let’s go.”
They moved off at a fast walk along the corridor, the Commander at the front and Teresa at the rear. Though they moved quickly they didn’t want to arouse suspicion if anybody was watching. It took less than a minute for them to reach the end where they met three doors. Two were locked and presumably store or control rooms. The third door was wider than the others and fitted out with a keypad and display. As Bishop moved closer it must have detected his position as the display altered to a rough outline of a face.
“Please enter your destination,” it asked in an artificial and less than friendly voice.
“Charming,” said Teresa as she glanced at Bishop.
“Let me,” said Commander Anderson as he leaned in and pressed the one and the five. As soon as he moved his hand away the door slipped to the side to reveal a small metal elevator. Teresa went in without a thought, quickly followed by Anderson. As they turned Teresa noticed Bishop was still outside.
“What?”
Bishop took a breath and then stepped in. As the door shut the display starting counting the floors as they were whisked to their destination.
“What was that all about?”
“I had an, well, a problem in one of them years ago, Sir. It was stuck for over a day and started to drop. I’ve never trusted them since.”
“Don’t worry, if it really breaks you’ll be a dead man anyway!” laughed Teresa.
“You ever been here, Teresa?”
“No, Sir, this place was always a bit too upmarket back in my day.”
“Upmarket? You kidding me?” asked a less than sympathetic Bishop.
The elevator made a curious whistling noise as it travelled through its tight fitting tube. After a few more seconds it started to slow and with a slight jolt stopped.
“Floor 15, Main Foyer,” said the computer as the door opened.
Star Crusades Uprising: The First Trilogy Page 55