Fires of Prometheus

by Michael G. Thomas

“I thought there might be, what is it?”

  “We could bring the Tamarisk down and land her, Sir. With her loading space and weapons we could take off any number of people and have the firepower to assist in an evacuation.”

  “No, not yet. We’ll be a sitting duck to those ships in orbit. If we try and land we’ll be shot down and lose everything. It is an option afterwards though,” agreed Anderson as he brought up a view of the planet’s surface.

  “As you can see here there are a number of access doors, much like loading bay doors, at fixed intervals around a central landing pad. The central point is directly over the main power source and also beside the communications array. I suggest you form two teams. One will secure the communications array and the landing area. The second will penetrate the base and find our men.”

  “What about you, Sir?”

  “I will stay with the ship, Teresa, and keep the cutters busy while you perform the drop.”

  “No way!” called Kowalski at the news. “That’s a suicide mission, Sir, and one man can’t do that, you’ll be toast.”

  “Not necessarily, she’s got more than they will be expecting and you will need the time on the surface.”

  “Commander, they have the numbers, I’ll stay back and help with the operation. You need another set of hands for this one.” Kowalski spoke in a tone that suggested he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  The Commander considered his offer for a moment before accepting it.

  “Okay, the two of us will provide a diversion by moving directly into the path of the cutters. I will trigger an electro-magnetic discharge that will scramble their sensors for up to a minute. That will be your window to start your attack run. All clear?”

  Teresa, Bishop and Angelo all acknowledged him.

  “Good, Bishop, you’re the senior marine here, I want you leading the rescue team with Teresa as your second. You know our men and I know you’ll do what needs to be done. Take half the mercs and the heavy weapons with you. You’ll need them. Angelo, take the rest and keep that landing zone clear, it is critical for the retrieval of you all. If it falls apart you will rendezvous with Angelo and get the hell of that hot rock.”

  “We’ll get them, Sir.”

  “I know you will, Teresa. Okay, get your gear and prepare your shuttles, how long do we have, Kowalski?”

  “Three minutes, Sir, they’ve already picked us up and are scanning us.”

  Anderson turned to them. “Good luck, people, see you on the flip side!” he said with a grin.

  Teresa and the others pulled themselves through the ship to meet the waiting mercenaries in the loading bay. It didn’t take long for them to make it there. They were already wearing their armoured suits and just needed to grab their helmets before climbing inside the shuttles. Teresa tapped four of the mercs on the shoulders.

  “You four are with us, we’re on the rescue op the rest of you will be with Angelo and securing the LZ.”

  The mercs all looked to Angelo who gave them the nod. Teresa noted that they looked to him and not the marines. It wasn’t really surprising, he had arranged their contracts, but it was of concern to her as to who could be fully trusted.

  Reaching to the wall mounting she pulled off her helmet and pulled on the protective helmet. It took just seconds before they were ready for the vacuum of space and with simple hand signals they pulled themselves along to the two shuttles to get themselves ready for the operation.

  Anderson looked over the computer screens and then to Kowalski.

  “I’m going to put us right in the middle of the force. When I give you the signal you hit the trigger and send the pulse. If they look hostile we open up with everything we have, got it?”

  “No problem, Sir, I’ve got the guns already loaded and the EM capacitors are on trickle charge, another minute they’ll be ready.”

  “Good, this is going to be one hell of a surprise for them,” said the mischievous Commander.

  The communication screen started to flash to indicate an incoming message. Kowalski hit the button to show the feed but not to respond. The face of a Zealot, in the common robe they all seemed to wear, appeared.

  “This is restricted territory. Please vacate this area immediately or you will be fired upon.”

  “Connect us,” said Anderson as he quietly cleared his throat.

  “This is Captain Mathius of the transport vessel Tamarisk. We have food and supplies for the compound below.”

  Kowalski grinned to himself as he watched the capacitor move further and further up.

  “Tamarisk, you are not registered for any deliveries. Alter your course immediately or we will use deadly force.”

  Anderson grabbed the intercom. “Who the hell do you think you are? Under whose orders will you open fire?”

  “The Church of Echidna is the only authority in this region. This is your final warning, Tamarisk.” The signal was cut off abruptly.

  “Commander, they are charging up their weapons, I am detecting railguns and missiles on two of the ships. Wait, what the…!” he cried hitting a button on the console quickly. An alert tone echoed through the ship and the emergency thrusters pushed the vessel slightly to one side as a projectile rushed past.

  “They mean business, Sir, I think you can call that a shot across our bow!” he laughed.

  “Yeah, you could say that. Standby on my mark, 5…4…3…2…1…now!”

  Kowalski hit the release button and with a crackle a blast of energy rushed out from the ship in a large invisible bubble. A few sparks jumped from one of the broken computer units, next the navigation system and two displays went down.

  Anderson reached for the intercom and spoke calmly, “Shuttles, you are a go, good hunting!”

  * * *

  Tigris and Spartan made it down to the three floors without issue and came to a rectangular room with doors on three sides. Each was mirrored like security glass but there were no obvious locks, hinges or doors. Tigris moved closer and struck his pistol against the toughened glass.

  “Shit! It’s a security screen, I’ve heard about them. They drop down to seal rooms against fire, water and gas.” He stepped back and aimed into the middle of the door opposite him.

  “What are you…” shouted Spartan before the loud crack of the pistol echoed in the room. He blasted it three times but the bullets did no more than take small chunks from the glass.

  “Out of the way,” said Spartan as he swung his heavy Gatling gun into position. It was much too heavy to hold on the shoulder so he held it hung down next to his thigh. He pulled the trigger and with a deafening roar it spat out hundreds of large calibre heavy slugs that tore chunks from the glass. In seconds one pane was destroyed and he turned on the spot until the other two doors exploded into tiny shards. The gunfire halted but the barrels continued to turn as Spartan depressed the trigger.

  “Nice!” shouted Tigris, as he stepped forward over the glass. Spartan dropped the gun, pulled out his side arm and followed him.

  * * *

  Teresa was first out of the shuttle, quickly followed by Bishop and the four mercenaries. With speed and precision they fanned out onto the landing platform. The second shuttle had just landed and she could just make out Angelo giving orders as the side door opened. She turned back and examined their surroundings. The landing platform was circular in shape and easily two hundred metres wide. To the one side was a large metal door recessed into the rock itself. A large communication array pushed up from the ground on the right with a series of antenna and dishes pointing up to the skies. The horizon was packed with rocky mountains, molten rock and burning fires.

  “We’re on Hell!” Bishop shouted through his headset.

  Teresa turned back to the rest of the team, checking they were ready and fully armed. She carried an L48 carbine as well as several grenades mounted on her armour. In a holster on her hip was a P9 pistol, one of the items kept secure in the lockers of the ship.

  “Let’s go!” she cried and led
the team towards the doorway. Bishop moved off to the left side of the door and pulled out a small case with a computer bypass unit installed. He attached a ribbon cable and fibre optic authenticator and started the procedure.

  “How long?” asked one of the heavily armoured mercs.

  “Hopefully not too long, our suits can’t take this heat indefinitely,” said Teresa as she checked the suit monitors.

  As she stood waiting the door suddenly opened revealing a low ceiling and wide corridor that ran in a circle inside the structure. She turned back to see Angelo and his team fanned out and checking the perimeter. He spotted her and waved.

  “Bishop, we’ve secured the platform but we can’t stay out here, I suggest we move inside and guard the area from where you are. The heat will burn through these suits in ten to fifteen minutes.”

  “Do it!” he said and then turned to the corridor. He was first inside, quickly followed by Teresa and the mercs. After just a few hundred metres it was very clear something was going on. A number of bodies littered the ground and more could be found the further inside they went. One feature missing on their armour was any kind of external microphone system, though the suits were fitted with alarms in case of sound induced weapons. Checking the atmosphere was safe she flicked the release catch and pulled off her helmet. Fresh air washed to her face as well the dry heat from the planet. What really hit her though was the sound of gunfire and shouting. Bishop did the same though the mercs stayed fully sealed, she had no doubt their armour was more advanced and better equipped than hers. They all kept running, still finding nothing but the occasional body dressed in rags. She turned to Bishop.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  “Get down!” he shouted as he jumped to the side and pushed her away. A blast from a powerful weapon knocked him back and to the ground. The mercs scattered and started to return slow but carefully aimed fire. Teresa lifted her carbine and scanned the area ahead. The winding path continued downwards into an area that looked like a giant circular racetrack. It must be the centre of the base as at least a dozen huge blast doors led off into corridors and rooms like the legs of a spider, her attention was caught by robed men carrying rifles. Two of them had spotted her team and were opening fire but the rest were shooting indiscriminately against people in rags and filth.

  Teresa aimed carefully and squeezed off two rounds into the closest man’s face. The second was dropped by a fusillade from the mercs. With the immediate danger over the mercs pushed ahead to deal with the other guards as Teresa bent down to help Bishop up. Incredibly he was smiling.

  “Don’t worry, the armour did its job for a change!”

  Teresa pulled hard and lifted him back to his feet. A fierce gun battle was going on between the guards and the mercenaries but the guards were completely outclassed and in less than a minute the route was clear.

  “Where now, Teresa?”

  “Good point, what do you think is happening here?”

  “If you ask me I’d say this is a prison revolt, look,” he said as he bent down to one of the bodies. The person was wearing ragged overalls and had rough, scarred hands. The woman had been shot three times in the chest and it looked like she had been trying to reach the surface.

  “If it’s a revolt then you can guarantee our people will be right in the middle of it. Look, over there!” She pointed towards more guards rushing through a wide doorway firing their weapons.

  “Good idea, we can hit them from behind and roll them up till we find whatever the hell is going on here, come on!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Of all the characters in the sad tale of the Proxima Emergency it is that of the decorated Admiral Jarvis that is one of the most interesting. Prior to the troubles she had been due for early retirement for still unexplained reasons. Her quick thinking slowed the assault of the insurgents throughout Proxima and it is considered by many to this day that without her the System would have fallen within a month. It is only the long-term reputation of Spartan himself that finally overshadowed her ascendancy as his rise to pre-eminence became legendary.

  The Fall of Admiral Jarvis

  Alarms flashed throughout the bridge of the Tamarisk as she withstood barrage after barrage of weapon fire. In less than a minute of the battle starting she had sustained heavy damage and breaches in multiple quarters. One gun was knocked out and a fire was burning furiously in the spine of the vessel.

  “Concentrate cannon fire on the closest cutter. Full burst then rotate ninety degrees and do the same to the next!” ordered the Commander as he altered their course to take them in closer to the group of vessels.

  A violent crash smashed the Commander hard against the display and drew blood from his forehead. He wiped it aside and checked the screen.

  “Bastards, they just hit our main engines with rockets. How many are left?” he asked, slightly confused from the strike.

  “The first cutter is already a hulk, the second is burning from the inside out. Four remaining and they are closing in around us, Sir.”

  “I see them, hold on!”

  He hit the evasive manoeuvres button that triggered the dorsal thrusters to pump a massive discharge of gas into space and forcing the vessel downwards. As they moved two cutters poured their volleys of railgun ammunition into each other. Kowalski redirected the automated turrets to continue their gunfire against the two disengaged ships, scoring good hits on both.

  “Excellent work,” smiled the Commander just as another hit struck the bow of their ship. Two of the displays blacked out followed by scores of red lights flashing across the consoles.

  “Crap, we’re got a problem!” shouted Kowalski.

  Anderson tried to lean forward to examine the external camera feeds but strong g forces were forcing him into his seat.

  Kowalski managed to get a screen up and started to trigger emergency control programs. “We’ve been hit in two of the stern propellant tanks, the escaping gas is putting us into a spin.”

  Another series of flashes sent sparks across the computers before the entire system went dead. A crunch like that of metal clamping against metal shook the ship and ever so slowly their spin slowed down.

  Commander Anderson looked at the damage inside the vessel, just the red glow of the emergency lights remained. He could see the bloodied face of Kowalski and the significant damage inside.

  “What’s happening?”

  “They’re boarding us, Sir, they must be.”

  “No, they are not taking the Tamarisk! Break out the weapons, I’ll start the auto destruct sequence.”

  Kowalski turned to him for a moment as the realisation that this could be the end of their mission occurred to him. The Commander gave him little chance to dwell on his thoughts.

  “Kowalski, get going, now!” he growled.

  * * *

  Spartan and Tigris stood in the middle of the abandoned computer centre and looked about at the masses of equipment. The air-conditioned room was the coolest part of the compound and certainly the best maintained. In the centre of it stood three men, all dressed in suits and all visibly terrified at the sight of the two armed men.

  “Who’s in charge here?” demanded Spartan.

  None of the men spoke but one looked over to a short, balding man. He was probably just looking for advice but it told Spartan all he needed. Marching over he placed his pistol to the man’s forehead.

  “Transfer full control of all the security points, cameras and doors to me!”

  The man started to mutter, pleading innocence.

  “Do it now, or this one eats a bullet,” said Tigris as he dragged one of the men to the wall and push him face first against it.

  “Well?” asked Spartan.

  The man hesitated for just a few seconds. “Okay, okay, come with me.”

  The man, obviously terrified, led Spartan to one of the computers and sat down. With a flurry of hand movements he started to move control of all the systems to the computer centre. On the scr
eens nearby Spartan could make out the running battles that were now raging throughout the compound. The sector he had been secured inside was definitely the focal point of the conflict and hundreds appeared to be engaged in a brutal and bloody battle.

  “I want full control of the scrubbers, climate control and air vents.”

  “What?” the man asked.

  A bang shook the room and the man Tigris had been threatening slumped to the floor, a dark red pattern of blood and gore running down the wall. Spartan shook his head, the more time he spent with Tigris the more he doubted the man’s sanity.

  “Okay, I’m doing it! It will take a few minutes for access to the circulation and airlock system to transfer!”

  “Where are the controls for the shipyards, the factories, the machines?” demanded Spartan before the man could turn away.

  “Uh, we just manage the computers. The overall control comes from the Core.”

  “What do you mean, the Core?” shouted Tigris from where he stood.

  “The Governor, us, the guards, we’re all just custodians for the system. The factories are maintained by us but the orders come directly from the Core through the communication system.”

  “Where is it?”

  The man shrugged, “Really, I have no idea, we aren’t given that kind of information.”

  Spartan tilted his gun slightly and gave the man a look that told him either he told the truth or he would be joining his comrade.

  “I promise you, I do not know!” he cried.

  Spartan relented and lowered the pistol to leave the man to carry on with his work. He worked fast and it didn’t take long before Spartan had full control of all the systems for the compound. He checked the screen to get an idea how the revolt was going, it wasn’t easy but from what he could see it looked like a stalemate. For now that was okay but he knew that the ships in orbit would soon start dropping in reinforcements, then it would all be over.

  “You, over here!” Spartan shouted as he beckoned for the other man to come forward. “You will patch all of the video feeds, including the harvesting rooms and these prison areas. Link them together into an unencrypted packet and start transmitting the data on all channels.”