Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6)

by Thomas, Michael G.

  Where the hell have they been hiding?

  “Put fire on them, and do not let them get away from the vehicle!” he ordered. His team were all excellent shots and in seconds had stalled the Zealot reinforcements, pushing them back into the cover of the lightly armoured vehicle. Spartan could make out the head of one of the men on the other side of the vehicle. He selected the high-power mode and grinned to himself as the three projectiles smashed through the vehicle, slamming the man to the ground. Muzzle flashes lit up from multiple directions, and the walled compound was starting to look less like their escape route and more like a prison.

  “Sir, watch out!” called out Sergeant Morato who was busy trying to suppress those on the highest floor of the building. Chunks of masonry blasted from the walls as both sides exchanged fire. Corporal Jenkins was hit in the leg. Soon after, another burst of L48 carbine fire shattered Sergeant Tsuki Yobun’s rifle, but incredibly the shredded round managed to avoid penetrating his armoured suit.

  “Keep them busy. Help is on the way!”

  Spartan flicked the weapon back to normal firing mode and held down the trigger. With all three barrels active and firing in sequence, the rate of fire was astounding. He had read the gun could almost hit fifteen hundred rounds a minute, so far the weapon almost sounded like a chainsaw. He was tempted to order a retreat back inside, but once there they might never get back out. A familiar screaming caught his attention. It was a Marine Corps landing craft; one of the heavily armoured assault vessels used to land troops and light vehicles directly into battle. A series of loud crumps hammered around the eight-wheeled troop carrier as almost thirty magnetic projectiles slammed around the vehicle, each fired from the door-gunners on the flanks of the vessel.

  Good timing, people, he said happily to himself.

  The large craft came down so fast it almost looked like a crash landing. As soon as it hit the ground, the four side doors slid open ready for access. The door-gunners continued their suppressing fire against the enemy in the open and also in the building. Spartan lifted his hand, indicating for them to board the landing craft. It took less than a minute for them all to make it inside without taking further casualties. Spartan counted them in. Once satisfied the entire team, along with their prisoner, was inside, he climbed in. The door slid shut just in time to deflect two projectiles that would have struck him.

  “Hold on, we’re getting out of here!” said the pilot over the sound system.

  With a roar, the craft lifted up, and Spartan felt twice his weight as it accelerated into the sky. He looked over to Teresa and two of the other men who were busy checking the body of their fallen comrade.

  “How is she?” he asked painfully, but he was aware she had little to no chance of surviving. Teresa looked back at him with a bloodied face and shook her head.

  “Not good. She’s alive, but barely.”

  Spartan lowered his eyes and looked back to the small side window and the compound that was already quickly disappearing into the distance. He held onto one of the many grab handles and squeezed it tightly.

  Somebody screwed us over. Somebody that knew we were going in. I’ll find them, and damn help them when I do!

  CHAPTER TWO

  The early years of the Alliance saw the retirement for many of the most famous ships of the War. While some ships were simply too badly damaged to be economically repaired, others such as those that fought for the Echidna Union were best scrapped to remove their shame from the annals. The Santa Cruz was one of the few ships to emerge from the war with her honour intact and useful role remaining. She was changed from a heavy marine transport into a mobile base for Alliance Special Operations Groups, more commonly known as SOGs.

  Ships of the Alliance

  Spartan, Teresa and Sergeant Tsuki Yobun waited patiently outside the medical bay on board ANS Santa Cruz. They’d been there for almost an hour now as the surgeons did their work. It wasn’t the waiting that was frustrating Spartan thought, not even the fact that he might have lost a good and dedicated warrior. No, it was the fact that somebody had let Chraige Attez and his Zealot friends know they were coming that hurt the most. Kerberos had suffered greatly at the hands of the Zealots and their Church of Echidna friends. By the time the rebels had fought the Union forces to a standstill, a large portion of the population had already been shipped away. It was one of the many problems still remaining for the fledgling Alliance, to find those hundreds of thousands of missing citizens. Some were known to have been used as slave labour, and in the early months of the War, a large percentage had been used to create the most savage and violent of biomechanical creatures.

  “Spartan, are you okay?” asked Teresa.

  He looked to her and nodded calmly.

  “I’m good. I’d like to know which bastard turned us in though. They nearly blew the raid.”

  Sergeant Tsuki Yobun rubbed his chin as he thought. He looked as if he had experienced an epiphany as he waited.

  “Lieutenant. If they knew we were coming, why did Chraige Attez stay there? Surely he could have just left the place, maybe even desert it and leave traps or charges for us.”

  Spartan said nothing at first, but he had to admit the Sergeant had a point. A sound from further along the hall marked the approach of a small group of marines. They wore the same uniforms they always had, but Spartan recognised the patches as being from the newly created Alliance. As the two men approached, the figure of Major Daniels followed them. He walked up to Spartan who saluted smartly along with his two comrades.

  “At ease,” were the first words Daniels spoke before he turned slightly and pointed at the door.

  “Is there any news on your Corporal?”

  Spartan shook his head.

  “A nasty business, but you did what had to be done. The rest of your team made it out alive though. As I said in the briefing, he had friends in the local militia. We weren’t sure whom, if any, we could trust. For your peace of mind, recon drones show four trucks of local militia arrived sixty seconds after you got out of there. If you’d surrendered your forces, you and your team would be strapped down and being interrogated as we speak.”

  He looked to the door and nodded in its direction.

  “Your Corporal in there may not live, but at least she has a chance. Better this than a few days of agony in their hands. You saw what they did to Shoutarou, not a pretty sight at all.”

  Spartan nodded in agreement, but he would much rather have not been forced to dwell on what had happened to that unfortunate soul. Luckily, the Major appeared agitated and started to move away.

  “I will see you in the briefing. You’ve got ten minutes before I start. Don’t be late,” he said firmly and marched away.

  Sergeant Yobun looked through the observation window into the medlab but could see little of note. There were two layers of smoked windows plus a fabric screen that blocked most of the light. He turned around to face Spartan who still looked angry at the way the mission had ended.

  “Lieutenant, you made a tough call, and it was the right one. We bagged the target, slotted anybody that got in our way, and completed the mission. Like the Major said, if we’d stayed or done anything differently, we would have been smoked.”

  Spartan did his best to look as though he agreed, but the issue with the Corporal wasn’t going to be resolved quite that easily. The Sergeant sighed and twisted away from the other two.

  “I’m needed down in the training hall. We’re running the ship hostage scenario again, and they need another instructor. Fill me in on the briefing afterwards.”

  Spartan nodded but said no more. The Sergeant moved off down the corridor, leaving just Spartan and Teresa alone. They were silent, happy to say nothing while they waited for news. They didn’t have long though before the Major’s briefing started. Spartan knocked on the door, and it was quickly opened by one of the four medical orderlies on duty. The man looked at Spartan and shook his head.

  “Sorry, Sir, no news. She’s stable, a
nd her injuries are healing. She might come out of the coma today, in a week or never. As soon as there’s news, I’ll be in touch. I promise.”

  Teresa reached out and held his forearm.

  “Spartan, let’s go. There’s nothing we can do here, not yet.”

  He looked at her and back to the orderly. The man did his best to smile at Spartan, trying to reassure him she was in the best possible place.

  “Trust me, Sir. I will let you know immediately.”

  * * *

  The briefing room on board the ANS Santa Cruz hadn’t really changed much since the end of the War. The damage sustained in the final battle around Terra Nova had been patched up, and most of the crew had moved on. Some had quit the military, others were taking well deserved breaks with others just needed posting somewhere else. Like many of the survivors of the War, the old warhorse had been pressed back into surface until the new generation of ships could replace her. Only her designation and insignia had changed from the old CCS to the new style. Gone were her thousands of marines, and instead was this mixture of experts that had been tracking down the people and technology behind the War.

  Major Daniels entered the room and took up his position at the front. He had aged considerably in the months and eventually years it had taken to win back the Confederacy from the Echidna Union and its allies. Although young, his hair was already greying prematurely, and his face betrayed a tiredness that only prolonged combat and exposure to tragedy could replicate.

  “Be seated,” he stated simply.

  The hundred or so people sat down in their seats and watched patiently. Spartan glanced at them and allowed himself a small smile. This was being treated like a military briefing even though over half of the people there were actually civilians that had been seconded to the ad-hoc unit for the last six months. Service in the Confederate Marine Corps had definitely instilled an attitude into Daniels.

  “Thank you for attending this briefing. As you are no doubt aware, the conference on Terra Nova will be the first to take place since the peace accords thirteen months ago. A great deal has happened since then, the founding of the Alliance, the disbanding of colonial militia, and the resettling of many of our lost colonies. The threat of the Union has vanished since we vanquished their Core and control systems, but their supporters still exist. There are terrorist cells on every colony, and be in no doubt, they will keep on fighting as long as just one of them remains. Typhon died on Terra Nova, and his legions surrendered, but what of his brothers, the so-called Sons of the League? No trace has been found of them, and of the ten legions of Biomechs Typhon boasted of. Only four were found.”

  He paused for a few seconds, letting that information sink in. It would, of course, be of no surprise to the men and women of this particular unit. After all, they put themselves in danger everyday to continue the fight against the enemy. Major Daniels nodded as he watched them.

  “But that isn’t why we are here. The brothers of Typhon and the missing Biomechs are just one of the many issues left for the Alliance to deal with. For the last six months, you have been involved in seven operations, each one risky, but each bringing us closer to understanding those behind the War. Now we are starting to understand how they were able to infiltrate our forces. It didn’t take place over months or years, not even decades. The rot started after the Great War itself. That is why we must show eternal vigilance and ensure this can never happen again. There are many of our enemies still out there, and work by people such as yourselves is bringing us closer to a better future.”

  He noticed Spartan in the group and nodded politely; a movement that was barely discernible to all but the most eagle-eyed of observers. He then looked to the rest of the hall and continued.

  “I have gathered you here because you are to participate in a summit of the best scientists, soldiers and politicians to plan the future of the Alliance military. You will have a complete free rein to voice your opinions on your experience with this unit and also on operations in the War. Obviously, you will not discuss the operations themselves or your roles in them, but you can use this information to help others understand what works, what doesn’t and what you think would help in the future. This short meeting may provide useful additional information prior to your arrival, especially since we have new intelligence and data from our last three operations.”

  He turned to a man in a suit, somebody Spartan didn’t recognise. With a few quiet words, the man took his place on the podium and then pressed a button. A detailed image of Terra Nova appeared; the planet rotating like a marble orb.

  “Thank you, Major. As the official research delegate from Kerberos, I would like to thank those of you that helped free my world from near annihilation. Even now, we are still finding the bodies of those mutilated and savaged during the occupation. It is this tragedy that has inspired a new generation of scientists and researchers like myself to ensure we build a strong, dependable and long-term future. The Confederacy was weak, and many paid the ultimate price. All of us have a duty to ensure it never happens again.”

  He turned and looked at the image of Terra Nova for a few seconds. The planet represented many things to those who had suffered in the War. The planet was the official capital of the entire Confederacy and had also been at the centre of enemy operations. It was also the site where the War had been decided. There were many with a great distrust of the planet and its people, who mainly seemed to have avoided the hardship faced by planets such as Prime, Kerberos and Carthago. He inhaled slowly and continued.

  “I asked the Major for this meeting before we reach the conference because I have a few important observations I wanted to share with those of you travelling from Kerberos. The first is my thanks for your previous and continuing efforts to protect my homeworld. The second is my research that I think you will find interesting. When the Union left our planet, they gave us a legacy of destruction. But there is also something else they left behind.”

  He lifted a small leather case and placed it on the table beside him. With a gentle click the case opened up, and he removed what looked like a small metallic idol. He lifted it to show everybody.

  “This was recovered from one of the shuttles brought down as they tried to escape during our own little insurrection. I know some of you have already seen this amongst the objects taken from captured or killed Zealots.”

  The screen changed to show a detailed image of the object. It was one of the common relics of Echidna. An item often carried by supporters of the religion and almost every member of the militant wing known as the Zealots. The shape was a bizarre mixture of a serpent fused with the classic shape of the mother goddess. Part monotheistic and part pagan, it mixed the essence of multiple religions together. As he held the artefact up, he moved a small computer device next to the relic for them to see. A number of indicators lit up, and it emitted a tone.

  “As you can see, these are no simple metal devices. They give off a level of coded radiation that is astounding. So far, we have found no dangerous side effects, but, and this is a big but, they have one very important characteristic in common. They match the radiation patterns found at the destroyed research station in the Anomaly. We’ve been seeing these icons for decades now, but we didn’t pay any attention until the martyrdoms on Kerberos. Now that we’re looking, we’re finding more of them. Or more specifically, your teams are finding more of them.”

  The mention of the Anomaly took Spartan right back to the last days of the War when the Confederate Fleet, outnumbered and desperate, had fought its last battle; a battle against the new Union of colonies run by the Church of Echidna hierarchy. The remnants of the Confederacy had fought battle after battle against the Zealots extremists and the biomechanical monsters they had been creating in secret.

  He looked at the object and recalled seeing the symbols often tattooed, and sometimes even burned into the flesh of the Zealots with the same half woman and half serpent image. Even now, he couldn’t believe that a mere handful had us
ed the bridge provided by the Anomaly to travel to Terra Nova where they had landed and destroyed the Core. One swift assault, and the brains behind the uprising had been knocked out. It was a shocking and bloody end to the War, and one that still shook the Confederacy itself to her knees. It seemed like years had passed since then, yet it was only thirteen months ago, and so much had changed. He looked back to the man who was still talking.

  “What does this mean? We do not yet know, but you can be assured that the best scientists on Kerberos are working on this, and I intend on presenting my findings at the conference. There is a definite link between the Zealots, their religion, the icons and the Anomaly, and I do not believe for one second that they have gone away.”

  With a polite nod, the man stepped down, and the Major moved back to his previous position.

  “Based on the new intelligence on these artefacts, as well as the placement for three more Biomech research stations, we are now starting to make some progress. Interrogation of the Zealot commanders confirms there is a something more to the Church than we thought. Some of you may have heard mention of a Judgement Day, something I think almost all religions seem to share.”

  A few of those in the audience laughed nervously at the mention of the concept. Spartan noticed a few doing their best to avoid the response. It was hardly surprising. There were followers of a hundred different religions in the new Alliance, and many shared a fear of the concept of a judgement day.

  “Well, it is clear to us that adherents of the Church of Echidna are expecting theirs to arrive very soon. In fact, the most common timeframe we’re hearing is in the next six years.”