Shroud of Eden (Panhelion Chronicles Book 1)

by Marlin Desault

  As they made their way along the corridor, he dawdled a few meters behind Ariela.

  Marie prodded him in the back with the stubby barrel of her launcher. “Get moving. The quicker we get to the hangar bay, the sooner I can turn you over to Krast.”

  Two Marines in a dead run paid no attention to Marie and her hostages as they scurried in the opposite direction toward the comm center.

  He whispered to Ariela, “Looks like the combat deck has discovered the communications outage. In a matter of minutes, they’ll find Tanner and the dead Marine.”

  The general quarters alarm sounded with a harsh, repeating pulse. Scott hesitated, and Marie pushed her weapon hard against his ribs.

  Ariela, now a meter and a half ahead, glanced back over her shoulder.

  He stretched his stride to catch up, and Marie fell farther behind.

  Ariela grabbed his arm and pulled him close. She pressed her body against his side and pushed a forty-cal launcher into his crooked elbow. “From the dead Marine,” she whispered.

  He tucked the weapon into the front flap of his tunic.

  The three rounded a corner and entered the cavernous hangar bay through a side door in time to see Krast, accompanied by a squad of Marines, descend the ramp from the shuttle.

  Marie broke out in a smile. “Captain, over here. Drumond and the Niobian are my prisoners.”

  Krast acknowledged her with a nod and called for her to join him by the shuttle. He glanced around the bay and drew his own sidearm. “Now, Lieutenant, tell me what the hell is going on?”

  “There’s not much to tell. I escaped the brig and took these two hostage. Then I called Camus for help.”

  “And Captain Tanner? What about him?” Krast pressed.

  “He’s dead. I had to kill him to get control of the communications center.”

  Krast visibly tensed at news of Tanner’s death. “I’ll take your prisoners.” He motioned with his weapon for Scott and Ariela to join him.

  In two quick steps, they stood by his side.

  Without hesitation, Krast pointed his launcher at Marie. “And now, Lieutenant, hand me your weapon.”

  Marie hesitated in shock, her mouth agape.

  “You, a traitor?” she cried as the reality of what had happened dawned on her. With cat-like swiftness, her hand darted out and snagged Ariela’s wrist. A lightning step and she moved behind the Niobian. “I’ll tell Camus. He’ll send more troops, loyal ones.”

  Krast kept his weapon steady. “I’m the only one Camus sent. By now, he believes I’ve already commandeered Aurora. He won’t send anyone else.”

  Two Marines with drawn weapons stepped across the bay to the main hatch and took positions behind an auxiliary power unit, blocking one of two escape routes.

  Marie glanced around as if to assess the increasing odds against her. She twisted Ariela’s arm hard up behind her back. “You’re coming with me.” Marie’s head pivoted back and forth as she first eyed Krast, and then looked anxiously over her shoulder to check the one remaining escape route. She pulled Ariela, backtracking toward the open door that led to the corridor and to the communication center.

  Scott stole away from Krast, doglegged underneath the shuttle, skirted around the shuttle’s fuselage, and took cover behind the forward landing strut. His position flanked Marie’s left side as she backed around the shuttle nose and toward the open door behind her.

  He shifted his weight onto his left leg and raised the launcher Ariela had given him. In a crouch, arms outstretched, he leaned forward. With the weapon in his right hand, he cupped both weapon and grip in his left hand, and searched for a clear shot.

  Marie’s left hand held Ariela’s wrist in a tight grip; Ariela’s hand had gone white from lack of blood. Marie glanced over her left shoulder, and jerked back when she spotted Scott. She swung her right hand across her left arm and aimed the forty-cal launcher at him.

  The distance between Marie and Ariela widened a few centimeters.

  Ariela struggled against Marie’s grip, then pulled to the side. The dot from the targeting laser on Scott’s launcher danced from Marie’s head to Ariela’s shoulder and back.

  The dot came to rest squarely on Marie’s left temple, and in a fraction of a second the forty-cal missile’s circuits calculated a recognition pattern for its target.

  He launched, and Marie crumpled in a flaccid heap to the deck.

  In a small room converted into a morgue on the sick bay deck, Scott and Krast stood over Marie’s body.

  “Damn shame,” Scott said to Krast. “She was an exceptional science officer until she came under the spell of a modern Svengali. She’d been spying for Camus ever since she reported for duty on Pegasus. When Vogelein discovered her spy activities, she killed him.”

  He paused and reflected on the moment. “In a perverted sort of way, she wasn’t a bad person, just too easily swayed.” He took the lifeless hand and lifted Marie’s arm. “I’ll make sure she gets a proper burial in space.”

  Krast glanced over his shoulder at his shuttle. “I’ve got to get back to my ship. Can you handle Aurora? You know Camus will come gunning for you.”

  Scott tilted his head and nodded. “Go ahead, we can deal with him. As soon as you get back, brief da Silva and the others on what’s happened. Tell them they’ll have to chase Camus down if he makes a run for it.”

  Earth

  ~~~

  Inside the shuttle launch terminal, Admiral Marbaum and three staff members conversed with one another on the boarding ramp. In clipped statements, they speculated on the coming confrontation as they waited for the Regent’s private shuttle to lock onto the catapult rail, which would sling them on their way to Crius in orbit high above.

  Watching from his private lounge, the Supreme Regent fumed as he paced back and forth muttering to himself.

  Minutes before shuttle launch, they gathered at the boarding ramp. “What word from Lieutenant Zirkel?” Camus asked in an acid tone, and returned to his incessant pacing.

  “None, your Regency. Nothing since she requested help.” Marbaum drew back from the expected ire. “The last message from Krast said he arrived an hour ago. By now, he should have control of Aurora, but we’ve heard nothing but silence. Hesperus hasn’t answered our request for updates either.”

  “Damn.” Camus’ face burned with rage. “Is it possible? If he has.... I’ll see he dies in agony. Who the hell can we trust?” Camus sent a mist of saliva across the ramp.

  The attendants signaled the shuttle ready, and with his entourage, Camus stomped onboard. “Crius will be my flagship.” He glared at Marbaum. “You take command of Eurybia and form up with me.” He slapped his swagger stick over and over on his palm. “How long till we can coordinate an attack?”

  “Two hours, tops,” Marbaum replied, his posture rigid on the edge of his seat opposite the Regent. “With the exception of Astræus. She left Jovian orbit two hours ago and won’t be able to help us for at least another day. She can’t transition to warp-space this close to sol.”

  Camus shot Marbaum a scornful glance and stabbed his finger in Marbaum’s face. “I’m not an idiot. I know she can’t go to warp-space. Forget her. We live or die in the next few hours. I’m going to run the biggest, most powerful nuclear weapon we have right up Drumond’s arse.” He calmed for a moment, reveling in the thought. “If Zirkel’s actions sow enough confusion among the crew, we can attack before they man their defenses.”

  The shuttle sped down the kilometer-long rail and catapulted out of the hall into an azure sky. At an altitude of two thousand meters, the ionetic engines ignited, jetting thin streaks of blue-white plasma into the atmosphere as the delta-winged craft accelerated to escape velocity.

  In his shuttle’s VIP suite, Camus glowered at the duplicate velocity readout, as if sheer willpower would force his craft to move faster. He and Marbaum sipped on glasses of vodka. “Christ, hard to believe Krast would turn against me and throw in with the rebels. When he carried out my ord
ers to attack the Martian settlement, I was convinced of his loyalty, but....” He raised his fist and bashed it down hard over and over on the armrest of his chair. “If he’s betrayed me, he’ll pay. They’ll all pay.”

  Marbaum narrowed. “How many more traitors do we have in our midst?”

  Camus downed the last of his vodka. “How the hell should I know, but when I find out....” The veins in his temples pulsed. “You and I will take personal charge of the showdown with Drumond. I’ll see that miserable Judas drowned in his own blood.”

  Crius

  ~~~

  In the hangar bay, Camus disembarked the shuttle. Captain Urs Kohlman and an honor guard saluted him as he stomped down the ramp.

  Minutes later, with Marbaum still as passenger, the shuttle shot out of the hangar bay on its way to Eurybia.

  Camus charged onto the combat deck in his regal gold-trimmed uniform, and lowered himself into the specially prepared oversized command pod. “Kohlman, set your course to intercept Aurora, and ready the nuclear missiles.”

  Kohlman visibly stiffened and studied Camus for a moment. “Missiles? We’re rather close. If the Regent permits, I suggest directed energy weapons.”

  “Don’t tell me how to conduct a battle. Just get this ship ready and prepare for an avoidance maneuver. And Urs....”

  “Yes, your Regency?”

  “Don’t ever question my orders again.”

  In silence, Kohlman turned from Camus’ wrath and fixed his gaze on his feet.

  Crius accelerated and swept around to intercept Aurora.

  “Kohlman, what word from Eurybia?” Camus narrowed his eyes and exhaled sharply through his nose. “How soon till she can join us?”

  “She’s a hundred kilometers off our stern and closing. We’ll be in attack position in ten minutes.”

  Kohlman spun around to face Camus. “Regency, Aurora’s hailing us. She demands to know our intentions.”

  “Demands, you say?” Camus snorted at the affront. “Just tell her you have a person of authority on board who wants to parley.”

  Kohlman touched his intercom implant and stepped next to Camus. “Your Regency, Aurora’s calling us again. She warns we are to come no closer.”

  The image of Admiral Marbaum, aboard Eurybia, appeared in his display space. “Your Regency, have you made contact with Aurora? Does Krast have control of her?”

  “As I suspected, he’s betrayed me. We are told to come no closer. That dung scavenger Krast has turned against us. Bring your ship in formation with me. I have a surprise for those worms.”

  All right, Drumond or Krast, whoever you are. Have it your way.

  Camus took a wild swing at the padded pod arm with his swagger stick to attract Kohlman’s attention. “Urs, circle around and hold twelve hundred kilometers from Aurora.”

  Aurora

  ~~~

  With Tanner dead, Scott sat at the battle deck command pod, where he now assumed authority over the ship. He pointed Ariela to the nearby observers pod.

  One deck below, Blyds supervised the combat center. His image now formed on the battle deck’s intra-ship screen. “Captain, Crius has ignored our warnings not to approach. She reports a personage on board who wishes to speak with you.”

  “Have the ship go to full combat readiness.”

  Within seconds, the warble of the annunciator reverberated throughout the Aurora. One by one, the division readiness icons shifted from yellow to green.

  The ship prepared, the crew waited harnessed into their battle station hemi-pods.

  “Ariela, activate your pod.”

  She squirmed in the pod and positioned the restraining struts.

  The voice of the communications officer sounded over the intercom. “Captain Drumond, Regent Camus calling for you from Crius.”

  “Put him through on the combat bridge visual feed,” Scott ordered.

  A moment later, Camus’ scarred face appeared in three-dimensional image in the display. The Regent leaned back in his oversized pod, his hands resting on his belly. With a slight waver in his voice, his words echoed through Aurora’s deck. “Ah, Captain Drumond, or do you prefer I address you as Ambassador?” He did not wait for an answer. “I believe this is the first time you and I have talked. This rebellion you’ve sparked against my authority has caused me a bit of trouble, but certainly as reasonable men, we can come to an agreement, one that will avoid further bloodshed.”

  “What do you propose?” Scott narrowed his skeptical eyes as he studied Camus’ demeanor for any possible tell.

  Camus tipped his head back and twisted his mouth in a wry smile. “I’ll discuss my proposal with you in person. Face-to-face negotiations are the only civilized way to negotiate important matters, don’t you think? Two intelligent and powerful men like us should be able to find some common ground.” He held out his open palm as if offering to shake hands across the distance. “You’re a man of action. I need people like you to help me rule. Together, you and I could forge a powerful empire, an empire in which you would have a special position, perhaps a governorship of some conquered star system, or of an entire sector. I’m willing to be quite flexible with terms.”

  “Generous of you,” said Scott with a smirk. “Seeing as our forces outnumber yours five to two, and we have Prometheus.”

  Ariela rotated her pod to face Scott. “The man’s a megalomaniac. You don’t believe him, do you?”

  He balled his hand in a tight fist. “Not for a moment.”

  Camus’ image froze, and the audio went silent. A few seconds later, the image and audio continued. “I’m well aware of my situation, but I have a few chips left. No doubt you remember a man by the name of Jestin Delmar, the one who gave you command of the Pegasus. You may be curious to know his fate as my prisoner. Would you sacrifice him, as well as others such as President Fitzsimons, to see me deposed? If not, I’m ready to shuttle over to Aurora and work out our differences.”

  If Camus spoke the truth, and if Admiral Delmar still lived, Scott would make every effort to save him. Delmar had supported him after the court recommended he be denied command. He owed the Admiral.

  Arms crossed as best he could in the battle pod, Scott wrinkled his brow and considered Camus’ remarks. After a few seconds, he nodded. “If you’re serious, come alone except for your pilot.”

  The audio crackled and Camus’ smiling face froze again. A few moments passed before Camus’ lips moved and the audio returned. “Will you give me safe passage and allow me to return to my ship?” Camus’ eyes blinked a rapid beat.

  “You have my word,” Scott replied, fighting against the bile that wanted to rise from his gut, and closed the link.

  Scott mentally cycled possible outcomes of a meeting. The odds of the tyrant giving up without a fight were the same as finding ice on the surface of the sun. He gnawed the inside of his lip as suspicion wormed its way through his thoughts.

  Fleet Staging Orbit

  -

  Aurora

  ~~~

  The image of a silver dart-like object streaking away from Crius flashed on the display. With increasing clarity of shape and size, the small craft closed on Aurora. The shuttle swept an arc and approached from the stern quarter.

  Photon sensors alerted, sounding a chirping tone.

  Scott’s muscles tensed and his eyes saucered as he gripped the arms of his pod. “A tracking beam,” he shouted. “Blyds, swing us around and fire on that shuttle.”

  Sharp clouds spewed from Aurora’s steering jets, and the hadron engines vectored upward and to the side, tossing Aurora into a spiral end over. In the combat center display, the star field streaked from one corner across the full screen as the prow swung past the darting shuttle.

  Beams of charged atomic particles leaped out Aurora’s cannons at the approaching craft.

  A ball of nuclear white billowed, followed by a deluge of atomic particles. Radiation hammered Aurora, and the pungent smell of ozone filled the deck. Darkness and silence engulfe
d the ship.

  Within a fraction of a second, the combat deck glowed deep red as the emergency lights flickered on. A moment later, the lighting systems returned to full normal.

  Ariela, trembling and shaken, gripped the battle pod arm restraints. “What happened?”

  “Camus rigged the shuttle with a nuclear fusion bomb.” Scott rubbed his forearms to calm himself.

  Blyds had monitored the conversation from the combat center. “How did you figure it?”

  “The photon sensors activated,” said Scott. “The whole way from Crius the shuttle was tracking us with a laser beam, on remote control. When it approached from our stern, my suspicion was confirmed.”

  The facts of what had just happened dawned on Ariela and her eyes grew wide. “Then no one was on board? We were supposed to let it dock, and then it would explode?” She blanched and turned away. “Then Camus is still alive.”

  Scott returned her glance with a slow nod. “Yes, we were set up, and it nearly worked. Now we’re going play by his rules.”

  “Captain,” Blyds called out. His voice pitch betrayed his anxiousness. “Crius has paired with Eurybia. Both are closing at high speed.”

  “Camus,” Scott barked out. His glance snapped to the display, and then to the screen with Blyds’ image. “He intends to strike before our systems recover. Have the weapons department light up the heavy particle cannons. Now!”

  On their respective decks, threat detectors flashed red.

  “Fusion missiles, two from Crius and two from Eurybia,” blurted Blyds.

  Four staggered red dots on radial lines from the attackers appeared on the scanner. The overhead lights blinked as the magnetic fields needed to propel hadrons from Aurora’s twin cannons sucked power from the engines. At the fire command, fast moving streams of nuclear particles leaped out and vaporized the first two incoming missiles. The third incoming took a hit, and the fourth burst into bright white as another beam converged on it and the nuclear core ignited.

  A burst of neutrons sent Aurora into a clockwise roll and a yaw to starboard, propelling her into a slow gyration about both axes, with her forward view tracing a cone in space.