Aurora
~~~
A reinforced company of Fleet-Marines in full combat gear crowded the Aurora’s hangar deck, ready to embark in the gray-green troop lander parked at the far end of the bay. The lander emitted a faint whine as its power and navigation systems spooled up for departure.
Captain Tanner conferred with the Major Rolf Krieger in command of the Marines.
Nearby Lieutenant Zirkel stood silent, listening to the conversation.
A clatter arose as the Marines checked their equipment. Each carried his personal sidearm on his hip, and a longer-barreled, fifty-caliber missile launcher.
Two were paired to a small, field-portable ion cannon and energy pack. They labored in the artificial gravity of the Aurora, but once they reached the lesser gravity at their target, they would be able to maneuver the cannon with ease.
“Major,” said Tanner, “I can only tell you that we discovered a structure on the planet’s outer moon where we believe the Niobians have set up the weapon. The files I gave you for your personal projector have our most recent high-resolution surface scans. From our observations early this morning, we believe the structure extends to a subsurface level. You are to search the structure and find Prometheus. Secure it until we can send a team to bring it aboard the ship.”
Irritated, Krieger pursed his lips. “Captain, we’ve been over this several times. If Prometheus is there, we’ll find it and hold it for you. If not, we’ll fall back on our alternate plan and continue the search on Niobe proper.”
Tanner took the Major aside. “Lieutenant Zirkel will accompany you. She’s spent time on Niobe and knows the weapon you’re looking for, but be aware—she’s accused of murder. I want her guarded at all times.”
“No problem, Captain, I know all about her and the accusations. I’ve assigned two men to dog her every step.”
Tanner did a right oblique and refocused his gaze on Zirkel. “I’m told you have a pretty good idea of what Prometheus looks like. How confident are you that you will recognize it?”
From her much shorter stature, she stared up at him. “Captain, from my time on Niobe, I was able to glean quite a bit about the weapon. I’ll know it when I see it. Our best chance of finding it is from the unique radiation signature that emanates from the antimatter generator. From that we can track the radioactive trail it leaves.”
The aft end of the Assault Lander dropped open to reveal its cavernous hold.
“Devil dogs,” Krieger shouted, “form up and move out.”
The Marines snapped to attention, dressed their ranks and tramped into the craft, their equipment rattling as they went. They wore their visors retracted.
Tanner studied the determination on their faces as they trekked passed him. Despite their modern weapons, they carried the same grim expressions men and women over the many centuries wore as they marched into battle.
During the assault on the Niobian moon, they would fight with visors down in full protection suits, guarding against the near vacuum of space. A clumsy way to fight, but Krieger had personally trained them under the same conditions, bolstering his confidence in their fighting ability.
“Captain!” A shout echoed across the deck.
Tanner turned his attention from the troops filing past to see Commander Gatura jogging toward him across the deck.
“Captain,” Gatura called out again. “We’ve just received two priority communications from ECCO.” He handed the electronic files to Tanner’s waiting hands.
The captain of the Aurora read the projected files and shook his head.
“Well, Blyds, political events back on Earth have taken an ugly turn. I can’t figure how you knew, but your suspicions of a coup d’etat were right. You must be a damn psychic.”
“A lucky guess.”
Tanner handed the files back. “Despite the changed political landscape on Earth, we still need Prometheus to defeat the Khepri. We carry on with our mission as ordered.”
His second-in-command read over the text. “Understood, sir, but this puts a different slant on our activities. Earth has lost its president, and Drumond has lost his ambassadorship as well. What do you want me to do with him? We don’t carry irons in the Panhelion space forces.”
Tanner shifted around in time to see the last of the Marines disappear in the dark bay of the assault lander. “For the time being, leave him where he is. No use ruining his day now.”
The warning to clear the hangar deck blared from the overhead annunciator, echoing through the bay.
Tanner and Blyds followed the last of Aurora’s crewmen back into the habitable part of the warship, and the bulkheads closed behind them. A hiss of pneumatics and a rumble alerted both officers that the troop lander was away.
Falcon
~~~
In the darkened cockpit of the assault lander, Krieger projected a map from his personal e-device in front of the pilot and pointed to grid coordinates overlayed on a rendered image of Luna Two’s surface. “Our landing zone is the flat area at the bottom of that shallow crater. Set us down opposite those large door-like structures on the other side.”
The pilot dipped his craft slightly, and the stark landscape of Niobe’s outer moon came into sight. A gray, rock-strewn, uneven surface with a low ridge appeared in the forward view.
The pilot pointed over his controls at the view port and explained, “We’ll skim across those hills and drop down over the edge into the floor of the crater. If anyone is watching from the far side of the crater, we’ll only be visible only for a short time.”
“Seal your suits,” Krieger announced over the troop net, and glanced back into the bay to verify his troops had responded.
In the bay, his Marines lowered their visors, sealed their helmets, and crosschecked each other to ensure their suits were airtight. The suits bulged slightly as the pressure in each rose to life-support levels.
The lander hovered five meters off the surface and rotated gradually through a full circle. All the while, Krieger scanned the area for any sign of activity. Twin ion cannons shifted up and down as the overhead turret traversed a circle ahead of the lander, searching for possible targets.
The aft section struts of the lander settled firmly on the surface, and a moment later, the forward strut extended, supporting the prow well above the crater floor. With twin observation domes protruding from the nose, the lander had the shape of an over-sized praying mantis eyeing the Petra moonscape.
“Surface clear,” called out the major. He tapped the pilot on the shoulder, and for several seconds, the pressure valves hissed as the lander equalized to the outside. The aft bay ramp then lowered. “First and second platoons, form a defensive perimeter.”
The two rows of troops sallied out and took positions around the lander.
Krieger made his exit in a running crouch, and took cover behind a large boulder where he could survey the scene as the last few members of the company spread out around his position. Satisfied with the deployment, he pulled his optical and infrared sights over his visor and scanned a full 360 degrees. Twenty meters in front of them, a gentle incline led to a cliff face with a set of closed, metal doors large enough to allow a small spacecraft to enter. On the right side door, he could see the outline of a hatch.
“Sergeant Groves,” Krieger barked over the troop net. “Take two men with you and reconnoiter the portal on the right. See if there’s any way to get through that hatch.”
The sergeant acknowledged and motioned to two of his men. The threesome charged the bulwark, weapons at eye level.
Krieger’s helmet radio crackled. “No joy, Major,” the sergeant reported. “There’s a hatch but no obvious way to open it.”
“Rejoin your platoon,” Krieger transmitted. As the three scurried back to their comrades, he again keyed his radio. “Sappers fore. Set your charges to blow that hatch. Just give me an opening large enough for us to get through. Don’t bring the whole damn mountain down on us. Understood? The rest of the platoon
will cover you.”
With a bob of their helmets, the sappers acknowledged and bounded up the slope carrying thin, flexible gray tubes. They busied themselves at the portal for several minutes fixing the tubes to the hatch, and then scrambled back down the embankment.
The radio echoed the announcement unchanged for centuries: “Fire in the hole.”
Behind the boulder, Krieger squatted as low as his suit allowed. A flash of light lit the lunarscape, and a fraction of a second later, a slight tremor shook the ground beneath his feet.
The meager gravity of Petra pulled the fine dust down to the surface. As the cloud dissipated, a neat, oval-shaped hole gradually appeared where the hatch had been.
“Sergeant, take two platoons and search the structure. Take Lieutenant Zirkel with you, but keep an eye on her.”
Thirty of Earth’s finest Marines filed through the freshly made hole followed by Lieutenant Zirkel and her two guards.
Half an hour later, a buzz in Krieger’s radio preceded the sergeant’s voice. “Major, no contact. The facility looks deserted. We’re dispersing through a series of tunnels, and the lieutenant’s tracking several trails with her radiation detector. Unless we get lucky, this will take some time. There are a fair number of tunnels to search, and we’ve chased down a few false trails.”
Krieger straightened and keyed his radio. “Sergeant, take your time. Just find the damn thing.” He switched his radio back to the troop-wide net. “First platoon, rest easy. Second platoon, you may return to the lander, but leave the ion cannon team outside.”
He followed his men back inside their craft and took his position in the observation dome. He ordered the pilot to retract the ramp and re-pressurize the lander, a convenience that allowed his men a bit more comfort.
An hour later, he led the off platoon back outside, where he again took cover by the boulder.
Zirkel’s voice echoed in his earpiece. “Major, we found what looks like the antimatter generator, but there’s no sign of the weapon itself. We’re investigating the—”
The lander wobbled on its suspension. Krieger jumped to his feet and keyed his radio. “Sergeant, what’s going on in there?”
A panicked voice blared in his ear, “Major, we have a problem! When we moved the generator, a large slab of rock dropped out of the overhead and blocked our retreat. We’re trapped.”
Krieger flipped on the assault lander radio. “Aerie, this is Falcon.”
The voice of the comm officer aboard the Aurora answered. “Go ahead, Falcon. Captain Tanner is here with me.”
“Captain, our situation has taken a nasty turn. I have thirty-two Marines stuck in the tunnels. Lieutenant Zirkel’s with them. The Niobians set a trap. We aren’t going to find Prometheus today.”
Krieger redialed his radio and motioned to a corporal harnessed to an ion cannon. “Wegmann, you and your partner take the field cannon inside to the blockage, and see if you can burn through the obstruction.”
The two Marines clawed their way to the portal.
After a few seconds, Krieger’s radio buzzed with frantic messages. “Major, the hole’s too small. The field piece won’t fit through.”
The cannon team withdrew, and with a wave of his hand, Krieger ordered the sappers back to the opening.
Moments later, they withdrew. Another flash, and again the dust of Luna Two obscured the opening.
“That’ll do it,” Wegmann blared over the radio. He and his gunner steered the cannon tube and power pack through the thinning dust cloud and into the mountain.
Krieger’s radio crackled to life once more with the voice of the corporal. “Major, we’ve reached the blockage.”
A hiss filled Krieger’s helmet from the interference generated by the stream of ions burning the slab of rock inside the mountain.
Minutes later came the answer. “No good, Major. The power pack is exhausted and we’ve barely ablated the surface of the blockage.”
“Stand by. I’m sending in another power pack,” he said, his anger growing in frustration as the prospects for getting his men out diminished.
Three more power packs went through the opening, but in the end, the thirty-two Marines and Zirkel remained trapped.
“Aerie, Falcon here. Captain, we’ve put everything we have against the blockage with no luck.”
Krieger’s ship-to-lander radio lit up. He recognized Tanner’s voice.
“Krieger, we can bring our ship’s heavy beam weapons to bear on the entrance if you think it will blast enough of an opening to free your men.”
“No go, Captain. The blockage is inside. You’d have to blast through the entire mountain and risk a further cave in.”
Aurora
~~~
Angered at the radio chatter from the Niobian moon, Poland Tanner paced the deck of Aurora’s communications center. Krieger had a serious problem, and in hindsight, the plan to send Marines to Niobe’s outer moon struck him as foolhardy. Rather, they should have gone directly to Niobe and seized the first Niobians they found as hostages.
Now he had no choice. With Zirkel and his Marines trapped, he found himself in an awkward predicament.
He ceased pacing and dialed up his executive officer on the intercom. “Commander Gatura, bring Ambassador Drumond to me without delay.”
“Yes, Captain, I’m on my way.”
Ten minutes later, Drumond appeared in the companionway with Blyds right behind him. “You wanted to see me, Captain?”
“Damn right.” Beads of sweat formed on Tanner’s forehead, and he began pacing anew. “The Niobians have set a trap. My Marines and the Lieutenant are entombed in an underground cave on that moon.”
Scott ran a hand through his hair. “Fill me in, Captain. Maybe I can help.”
Tanner ceased his pacing and positioned himself directly in front of Scott. “We sent a company of fleet-Marines to that outer moon, the one we thought held the weapon. Two platoons blasted their way into the facility and were caught in a deliberate trap. I was lead to believe the Niobians were a peaceful, non-aggressive people, but they’ve put my troops in mortal danger.”
“A nonlethal trap might not be considered an aggressive act according to Niobian Tradition.” Scott’s eyebrows pulled together in a grimace. “They didn’t commit an act of direct confrontation, nor did they directly threaten you or your men. The Niobians would say your troops placed themselves in jeopardy, but in order to assuage their passive nature, they must have left some way for your people to get out.”
Tanner relaxed with a twinge of relief at the remark. “The trapped Marines are still searching, but so far they haven’t found any exit. Any ideas?”
“Let me go to Niobe to meet with the proconsul. If I can convince them that you won’t attack, they may tell me how to get your Marines out.”
“My orders are specific. I’m to hold you here. If I let you go to Niobe, I would be in violation of a direct order.”
Blyds had brought him to Tanner without a Marine guard. The reason flashed into Scott’s consciousness. Tanner had a serious problem, and Scott recognized his chance, maybe his only chance. “If you don’t let me return, you risk losing your Marines and Prometheus as well.”
Tanner squared his shoulders with Scott. “If I let you go, I’ll be disregarding a direct order by the Regent of the New Imperium.”
“Regent? New Imperium?” Scott bellowed. “What the hell is going on back home?”
“Step back here where we have some privacy, and I’ll fill you in.” Tanner led the way to the executive suite of the Combat Operations Center, with Scott and Gatura following close behind.
Scott sat opposite Tanner at the conference table. From Tanner’s tone, he guessed something drastic had played out on Earth. The blood throbbed in his veins, pounding with a renewed urgency.
“You’ll hear it sooner or later anyway,” Tanner murmured. “Admiral Camus has overthrown the Panhelion and set himself up as Supreme Regent of what he calls the New Imperium.”
> “My God, Supreme Regent? The man’s ambition knows no bounds. And the Senate? What do they say about this... this New Imperium?”
“Most have been imprisoned or killed.” Tanner hardened his face and crossed his arms. “Only those loyal to Camus still have their seats in the Senate. They rubber stamp whatever edict he proclaims. No one challenges him or his orders. I’m sorry to have to tell you, but in addition, you’ve been stripped of your rank and ambassadorship.”
Scott snickered. “That’s no surprise given what’s happened.” He narrowed his eyes. “That’s a damnable state of affairs, but knowing Camus as I do, his actions are not unexpected.”
“Look.” Tanner locked his gaze with Scott. “You know for a fact that I never cared much for Camus and his methods, but you have to understand my position. He’s in control now.”
“The New Imperium has no legitimate authority,” Scott shot back. “And Camus has another problem—the Khepri. If they get out of their home system, they can attack the solar system, and unless I’m misinformed, Camus needs Prometheus to stop them. Without Prometheus you’re just so much baggage to him. If you have the weapon, Camus wouldn’t be able to touch you.”
Without taking his eyes off Tanner, Scott placed his folded hands on the table, ready to make his move. “Send me to Niobe. I can negotiate the release of your Marines, and get Prometheus for you. Of course, there will be conditions.”
Tanner rubbed his forehead, and a couple drops of sweat fell to his lap. “I see. I have to trade one impossible situation for another.”
“You may have to trade an impossible situation for a different but much more palatable one.”
Tanner slumped in his chair. “And what would that more palatable option be?”
“The Niobians must have some assurance that Earth will not interfere with them.”
“But where does it leave me?” Tanner scowled across the table. “How can I guarantee that?”
Scott sensed his chance to turn Tanner. “With your ship and Prometheus, we return to Earth and remove Camus. You’ll be hailed as a hero, the savior of the Panhelion.”
Shroud of Eden (Panhelion Chronicles Book 1) Page 24