“We won’t have much time, private security around here is fast and violent, and I’d say four minutes, five tops.”
As Commander Anderson rushed through the door he turned back to Angelo.
“Okay, you watch the corridor, we’ll be three minutes and then we need to go, fast!”
As the three entered the room the excess immediately hit them. The space was voluminous, especially on a station where every cubic metre cost money. The walls were adorned with fine paintings and much of the furniture antique.
“We haven’t got long, we need records, and any kind of data that can help us find the prisoners.”
Teresa moved off towards the door to the bedroom and Bishop checked the furniture and floor for anything helpful. Some of the shelves had been forced, somebody, possibly the men from outside, had already been ransacking the place. As Teresa entered the bedroom she cried out and then went silent.
Bishop rushed closer and peered around the doorframe. A pistol shot blasted past and tore a painting from the wall.
“Come any nearer and the next one goes in her head!” shouted a man in the room.
Bishop turned to Anderson and indicated for him to take up position on the other side of the doorframe. Anderson lifted his hand, showing he was going to go high and Bishop low. With a final nod they counted with their hands and then rushed in. The man wore a suit and was holding Teresa up against the wall with a pistol to her temple. As they came in Teresa struck the man hard with her elbow, forcing the pistol away from her face for a brief moment. It wasn’t much of a window but it was enough. Bishop fired a single shot into the man’s chest that pushed him back, Commander Anderson placed a beautifully aimed shot into the man’s forehead that sent a spray of blood and gore against the wall. Teresa jumped away from the carnage to stand next to Bishop.
“Thanks!” she laughed nervously.
Anderson was busy looking at a series of papers and a portable security terminal that the man must have been trying to leave with. His attention was caught by something on the display.
“What is it?” asked Bishop.
“It’s still signed in, some kind of communication between this guy and a high security location.”
“How can you tell?” asked Teresa.
“Well, for starters it says High Security Communication along the top of the unit. There’s a map showing several sites in this sector as well as a partially written message, look,” he said as he lifted up the heavy unit and dumped it onto a worktop.
Bishop looked around the unit, checking it for signs of common connections or access points. As he examined the device he shook his head.
“Never seen anything like this.”
“I have, these are used on ships and stations for encrypted communication between command units, whoever Hex was talking to was important. The map shows four locations. One is an underground site in Avagana, the second is an old research station below on Prometheus, the third is the Titan Naval Station and the fourth is an unidentified point 50AU away from Prime.”
“Fifty? That is further out than all the planets? What is it?”
“Bishop, that I don’t know,” said Commander Anderson as he zoomed out and then zoomed down to the planet of Prime.
“Teresa, check this a moment, wouldn’t you say this corresponds with…”
“The Bone Mill” she added before he could finish.
“Exactly. My hunch is these four sites are connected in someway with the insurgents. Titan Naval Station was obviously the location for a major insurgent action and for sometime was held by their forces. The Bone Mill is still a stronghold for their forces and if you remember was the launching point for a Biomech assault. This location on Prometheus is unknown but what are the odds it’s equally involved?”
“Interesting. What about the location out in space? It could me a meeting point of some kind?”
“Why so far out though, Teresa? A reasonably fast ship would take about three weeks to make that trip. That would hardly useful for trading or transit. It must be something else.”
“Have you seen this list of materials?” asked Bishop.
The three examined the document on the unit. It displayed a list of shipments of heavy materials, girders, security gear, metal plating and much more.
“This is big, really big. We’re talking enough materials to build a medium sized space station and according to these logs it has all been going to one of the old compounds on Prometheus.”
“It’s unusual but why would that be anything to do with our mission, Sir?”
“Good point, Teresa. If you look at this list though you can see food, water and medical supplies going to the same place. More interestingly though is the quantities, this is more material than we needed for six months on the Crusader. We’re talking about two thousand personnel there. This compound has been receiving more than that every week.”
“Every week? That would mean they have thousand and thousands down there,” added Bishop.
Anderson read a few more details before turning to Teresa.
“Teresa, get Angelo in here.”
“You sure about that, Sir?”
“I think so, Bishop. They did their work here and lost a man in the process, we can’t ask for more.”
Teresa headed for the door as Anderson continued examining the computer system. Bishop moved to the stack of papers that had been in a briefcase and laid them out on the unit. As he shuffled through them Angelo arrived without his men.
“We can’t stay any longer, have you got what you needed?”
“Just look at this, quickly!” said Anderson.
Angelo stepped forward and looked at the display. He traced the screen with his hand and seemed intrigued by the location on the planet surface.
“Interesting.”
“What do you mean?” asked the Commander.
“We heard rumours sometime ago that something strange was going on at that place. We did land a team to investigate but all they found was a partially completed shipyard. It wasn’t licensed, but then what is around here?”
“But look at the food and supplies being sent down there. No way can that just be a shipyard,” said Anderson.
“What if they are sending human labour to the compound and using them in their production process?” suggested Teresa.
“What? Are you serious?” asked a surprised Bishop.
“Hold on, she has a point,” said Angelo as he pulled out his own datapad and checked a few details. It took a few seconds before he brought up an image of a transport ship.
“We picked up a distress call from this area about an hour ago, the local rescue unit said they were responding so we ignored it. The interesting thing though is it is from the exact same location as where all these supplies were supposed to be heading. A report came in just before you contacted me to say it was a fire alert, nothing more serious. If you look at the logs on my datapad though, what do you see?”
Teresa examined the data but couldn’t quite see the correlation.
“Look, on this transport route vessels move back and forth one a day. Since the alert came over a dozen ships have been making their way to the drop-off point to the planet. You see the ships need to drop smaller vessels to make the trip to the surface. If you ask me it looks like a force is assembling to be sent in.”
Commander Anderson lowered the lid of the computer and turned to the group.
“A revolt with the workers down there?” asked Bishop.
“Or a riot?” added Teresa.
“Either way I think we have our location. Something big is going on down there and if we don’t hurry it might be all over. Angelo, get your team assembled with full tactical gear and meet us at the Tamarisk in twenty minutes, I’ll brief you when you get there.”
“Don’t you want to sent out scout drones first?”
“No, time isn’t on our side. We’ll sort out a detailed plan on the way. We’re going to have to improvise on this one. Speed is of the essence and I have
a few ideas about getting inside.”
“Okay, it’s your funeral. Twenty minutes.” He turned and ran for the door.
“So, this is it then, Sir?”
“Yes, Teresa, grab what you can and follow me. It’s time to go, come on,” he said as he grabbed the briefcase and papers.
“About time, I just hope they’re alive when we get there!” said an excited but fearful Teresa.
* * *
“Go, we’ll cover you!” shouted Marcus.
Spartan, Misaki and Tigris rushed ahead and ducked down behind an overturned trolley. They had already covered most of the ground and so far run into just two guards who were quickly dealt with. At this point the main corridor opened up into the large ring section that occupied the centre of the base. From their position they could make out several dozen guards as well as columns of prisoners who were being escorted away, presumably to their cells. In the background the annoying hum of the compound alarm system wailed, indicating that a general alert was in progress. Spartan looked back at the rough note he had drawn on his arm.
“According to the security room this section opens out into the main ring. We’ll have access to the harvesting areas and shipyards as well as the entrance to the computer centre. Can’t we just sever the link somewhere?”
“No way. Did you see how far down the cabling goes? It’s multithreaded as well, we take out one and they just shift the load onto a different circuit. The only option is to destroy or hijack the antenna masts or the computer centre. The masts are on the surface and exactly where reinforcements are likely to land,” said Tigris.
“Yeah, but how the hell are we going to clear that area and get down to the computers? There must be over a hundred guards out there, look, see another group in armour?”
“Spartan, you need to do this one quietly,” said Tigris.
Spartan gave him an odd look as Marcus joined in.
“The only way you’ll get through there is if we get you a diversion. My recommendation is that you and Tigris hide here and we’ll create a diversion and draw them back down the arm and towards the cells and security room.”
“No way, you’ll never hold them off.”
“We don’t have to, we just need you to get control of the computer system and comms. When you get there patch into the security feed and dump the video out on all frequencies. People need to know what these bastards are doing!”
Tigris looked at Marcus then back to Spartan.
“He’s right Spartan, if we control the computer centre we will have full access to everything in this compound, including climate control, air filtration and pressure. We can hold the site to ransom or depressurise the whole place.”
Spartan looked to the small group, trying to work out if this plan had any possibility of working. He never had the chance though as Gun made the choice for him and stepped out into the open roaring loudly. His voice must have attracted the attention of a score of guards as streaks of fire from projectile weapons blasted around them.
Spartan dove for cover, Misaki and Marcus moved to the side of the Biomech and joined in the shooting. Inside the great cavern the sound of the weapons was amplified substantially though nothing like the sound that came from Gun’s Gatling gun. As he opened fire the entire group almost vanished in flame and smoke.
“Spartan, come on!” shouted Tigris who ducked down low and sneaked off around to the right, keeping his body low and in the shadows. Spartan followed and in just a few steps they were out of the line of fire and following round the perimeter. Every hundred metres or so, they were forced to stop as they reached a series of wide metal doors, each one easily able to accommodate a small transport vessel. Spartan turned to see Marcus disappear back down the corridor with Gun providing a devastating rear-guard. In front of them were at least twenty bodies and three times of that number were rushing after them.
“Look, that must be the entrance to the staircase right? We need to get there and then head down three levels. You ready?” asked Tigris before noticing that Spartan was still carrying the multi-barrelled gun given to him by the dying Biomech.
“What the hell did you bring that for?” he asked incredulously.
“This baby?” asked Spartan as he patted the metal of the barrels. “She might come in handy. Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself.”
Tigris shook his head in annoyance but Spartan simply ignored him and looked about the large open area, feeling exposed to attack at any moment. Their position was weak and vulnerable and he knew it.
“Wait a minute. We need to give ourselves a clear chance to make the distance. Look!” he said as he ducked back down pointing as discreetly as he could in the direction of the approaching men.
His timing couldn’t have been better, another ten seconds and they would have run directly into the heavily armed group and their mission may have been over. As they kept low to the ground a group of six Zealots in their flowing robes and a dozen armoured guards ran past towards the doorway they had just passed. Spartan watched in fascination as one of them, the tallest of the group, pressed a series of buttons to open the seal. With a groan the massive door lifted up to reveal a great area, the equal of the hull of the ship they had arrived on. Hundred and hundreds of cylinders were laid out in the just the same fashion as he had already seen.
“Biomechs, they are making them here, poor bastards!” said an angry looking Spartan.
“Who cares about them, they’re just meat, right now we have our own skins to save,” said Tigris.
For a moment Spartan looked at the man in disgust, he had turned on his own and now had a callous disregard for the creatures being made here. His redeeming feature though was of course that he was helping them, maybe that was enough thought Spartan to himself.
“For now, we will be back to help them,” said Spartan firmly. The more he thought about it though the more there was something in Tigris’ tone that worried him. After his combat in space and then on Prime he had more reasons than most to hate the Biomechs. Yet he of all people could feel compassion for these manufactured slaves. One of them had already given its life for them and he had no doubt Gun would do the same. Tigris on the other hand seemed to be only interested in himself and would do whatever it took to stay alive. While their aims were remained in synchronisation, Spartan would stick with him, but with a watchful eye.
“Spartan, now!” shouted Tigris as he checked one last time and then dashed across the open ground. Spartan looked and followed, keeping low and moving as fast as his legs would carry him. They quickly made their way across the ground and reached the doors that led to the staircase system. The door was wide enough for three people to enter at once but like most of the compound it was locked.
“Can you open it?” asked Spartan as he looked behind them nervously. They were terribly exposed in this position and if they were located they would have no choice but to fight and die on the spot.
“No problem, the details from the security room should allow us access to most of the restricted areas,” he said as he accessed the computer security system in the touch screen fitted to the wall. Spartan watched him work as he moved and rotated hexagonal icons around the screen until with a crunching sound the door opened to reveal a dark room with a narrow staircase going up and down. To the right were two locked elevators. Tigris moved directly past the door, calling out to Spartan as he made for the stairs heading down.
“Don’t bother with the elevators, they are always locked down in an emergency.”
* * *
“The signal is coming from the centre of this facility here,” explained Commander Anderson as he showed his newly expanded crew the situation. As well as Bishop, Kowalski and Teresa there was also Angelo and his team of eight heavily armoured mercenaries.
“You’re sure you want to hit this place? From your scans it looks like there could be thousands of people down there. What if they are all hostile?”
“Then this will be a really short trip, Angelo
!” said an irritated Teresa.
“Hold on to your hats people, I’m picking up something!” shouted Kowalski as he moved through three pages of contact information.
“Yeah, look at this,” he said as he brought up a three-dimensional model of the area around the planet. It showed six green contacts above the planet and directly above the compound.
“What are they?” asked Angelo.
“Cutters by the look of their size, about the same size as us. There are no Confed ships in this area, they must be private security,” said Commander Anderson.
“Trust me, the private security around here you will not want to mess with!” replied a serious looking Angelo.
Teresa threw him a look of concern, for a moment worrying that the Commander might cancel the mission. If they were unable to complete this operation there was a very good possibility that they would lose the prisoners and that would be the end of Spartan and the rest of them.
“Nonetheless we’re still going in!”
“What landing craft options do you have on this ship?”
“We have two shuttles, one a standard small crew civilian craft, the second a heavily modified black ops model. At a push you can fit six in each craft plus gear and weapons,” said Bishop.
“That’s not going to help us. How will we get the prisoners out with just two shuttles?”
“You won’t, Angelo, for now your mission will be to secure access to the landing zones and attempt to find the prisoners. From the information we have there is something bad happening down there. Either there is an emergency or a riot and revolt of some kind. You land and then move in hard and fast. Get me intel and if you find the General get him to the surface. We can ferry up passengers with multiple passes, you might even be able to secure craft on the surface. As soon as you start your attack I will send a general Confed alert for assistance. Any police or off-duty forces are required to respond to the call and it might give us the extra numbers for the operation.”
“We’ll be in range in five minutes, Sir,” said Kowalski as he monitored the displays.
“There is one other option,” said Teresa.
Fires of Prometheus Page 19