The Syracuse Deception

by T. S. Williams

  The Hoplite grasped pitifully at the protuberance, but his armoured gloves failed to grip. Blood spurted out of the wound, then slowed to a seep as the Hoplite’s heart ceased to beat. Magnus had little time to relish his victory, a pair of damage control supports swung at him, one at knee height, another a chest height. They landed hard, Magnus hit the ground winded.

  A third Hoplite appeared from the chaos and drew his xiphos blade. He swung it in a long arc aiming for Magnus. Magnus flinched as the razor edge rushed down towards his face. His body was awkwardly pinned under the beams, but Magnus just managed to deflect the blade with his psy-blade. He morphed it into a dome shield.

  The Hoplite bent down and tried to wrench the psy-blade away. Magnus froze, a brief instant of panic that should have doomed him, but Armstrong re-joined the fray. He slammed into the Hoplite in a thruster assisted tackle. Magnus managed to gather his wits and throw off the heavy supports with telekinesis.

  Armstrong and the Hoplite were brawling so closely, Magnus couldn’t physically intervene without risking his friend. Instead, Magnus reached out with telekinesis, plucked the Hoplite of his feet, then, swung him into the deck above, hard enough to dent Cloud base’s tough decking. The blow pulverized the Hoplite inside his battle suit.

  In the midst of the slaughter, Magnus’ mind’s eye chimed. A new sit rep showed all the remaining Hoplites in the utility bay. Camperdown had finally managed to restore comms. Magnus saw a chance to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

  The invaders were together in cover, just fifty metres away. Now Magnus relocated the leader. The decorated figure carried a grey cylinder about 25 centimetres long. One Magnus was all too familiar with and explained much about the leader’s impressive abilities.

  Armstrong and Magnus decided to part company to break up the Lakedaemon force. The sit rep had revealed a number of ambush locations. They hoped to lead smaller groups of the Hippeus onto the guns of Jones, Lincoln and Thresher.

  It didn’t work. The whole group followed Armstrong. His tired feet slammed rhythmically into the deck following twists and turns between old equipment.

  The section of the utility bay Armstrong had run into, was more like a salvage yard than an equipment store. Coil gun slugs slammed into the scrap around him. The occasional grenade sailed over his head. Thankfully none came too close.

  Armstrong fired back smart missiles from his dwindling supply. Armstrong was sure he wounded at least one of his pursuers. He ceased running. The good news was he’d found some great cover. The bad news, he run into a spur off of the utility bay and had come to a dead end. There was nowhere else to go.

  The Hippeus followed him into the space, moving swiftly to block Armstrong’s escape. Reviewing the sit rep in his mind’s eye, Armstrong saw Magnus, Jones and Thresher weren’t far behind. Lincoln’s signal was missing. He swallowed down the worry for his soldier.

  Armstrong watched the Hippeus closing in, waiting for just the right moment. A chime in his mind’s eye indicated a message from Magnus “Call the rain”. He smiled at the Skipper’s impatience, he replied with targeting data and a simple “Soon, Skipper”.

  The Hippeus were just taking their final position “Now”. Four smart missiles launched, followed by another four, then a third launch. Armstrong assumed control of the whole lot as they skimmed the space between the top of the junk pile store randomly in the utility bay and the deck above.

  The Hippeus were caught by surprise, the smart missiles managed to end the lives of all but one, in a gory burst of flesh, armour and flame. Unsurprisingly, the last figure standing, was their leader. He alone stood amid the death and destruction unaffected. Improvised shields circled the figure in mid air, protecting him from the barrage. He was clearly gifted at telekinesis.

  Chapter 30

  Magnus received the tell-tale chime of a new message from Admiral Camperdown “Commander, take the leader alive”.

  Magnus, filled with frustrations and battle rage “Admiral, this guy’s a powerhouse. We’ll be bloody lucky to kill him”.

  “I understand”, at least Camperdown had the decency to sound sympathetic “Do your best Commander, we need him. Agent Athena is bringing help. ETA four minutes”.

  Magnus let out a breath, trying to let the anger out “Aye, Sir”. He messaged his team “Shoot to disable only. We need this one alive”. The combat suits hid the groans.

  In the meantime, the Lakedaemian leader drew his psy-blade. It formed into a great broadsword, almost as tall as the man himself. Jones opened fire at his legs, but the maser beam was blocked by debris.

  Now they were closer, Magnus could feel the incredible psy-presence the leader radiated. The shock slowed him. Armstrong opened up another angle of attack, but the decking rolled back like carpet, blocking the shot. Thresher dived forward with his combat knife, aiming for the back of the knee. The leader drove Thresher straight into the deck with telekinesis. Thresher scrambled away on his hands and knees.

  Magnus morphed his psy-blade into a tall wedge shield and powered towards the Lakedaemian on suit thrusters. He fended off metal blocks hurled at him, pushing them away with telekinesis. The Lakedaemian’s broadsword slammed his shield, but couldn’t penetrate. The blow rang out deafeningly. In response, Magnus wound his blade like boa constrictor round the broadsword. The Lakedaemian paused as if in shock and released his sword.

  He touched his armoured glove to Magnus’ face. Crackling sparks and a terrible heat flowed from his fingers. Magnus’ combat suit held, though Magnus’ face felt like it was burning.

  Magnus responded by with telekinetic strikes, pounding the Lakedaemian’s battle suit. The Lakedaemian dropped to a crouch as his knees gave out. Magnus wrenched both psy-blades away, leaving the Lakedaemian empty handed.

  Jones fired, striking the deck where the Lakedaemian was standing. The deck melted underfoot causing his boot to lose grip.

  Magnus and the Paras advanced menacingly. The Lakedaemian seemed to pause for an instant, before unleashing a burst of telekinesis that knocked them all back a few steps.

  The Lakedaemian then leapt for Thresher, both hands extended and battered him to the deck. Thresher tried to squirm free. Before he could, the Lakedaemian placed both gloved hands on his chest plate and released another burst of energy. Thresher screamed, inaudible through the combat suit.

  As he jerked about under the assault, Thresher managed to bury a combat knife in through the Lakedaemian's vulnerable knee joint. He passed out and the Lakedaemian turned back to the others. Thresher’s suit transmitter beamed out a casualty signal, as he lay helpless.

  Magnus dropped the psy-blades, drew his gauss pistol and shot round after round at the Lakedaemon. His mind’s eye overrode his shaking arm muscles to keep the barrel on target. The Lakedaemian rolled away, his telekinetic flailing batted the bullets away.

  A container pod seemed dissolve along its seams, the constituent parts flew at the Laurentians like a metal storm. Armstrong dove low behind some ceramic plate to avoid the worst of it. Jones was slower, his carbine was wrecked by numerous impacts and he was driven to his knees.

  Magnus was starting to wonder if they could actually beat the Lakedaemian, he took punishment like a monster and was wearing everyone down.

  Armstrong scrambled over to an unconscious Thresher and dragged him into better cover. Thresher’s medical warnings flashed across his mind’s eye. Armstrong looked up in time to see a shuttle fuselage panel descending on them both.

  Magnus tried to deflect the objects dropping on his friends. The Lakedaemian’s brutal telekinetic strength made that futile. Magnus transferred his telekinetic focus to the Lakedaemian himself, knocking him over. Magnus scooped up the psy-blades and leapt at him.

  His crew had suffered at this man's hands. Magnus battered the Lakedaemian as he lay pinned beneath him. His enemy’s Battle suit gave way under the sustained assault, shedding armour plates. Magnus took each psy-blade in hand.

  He willed two wicked points
to form. His own blade flowed smoothly into shape. The Lakedaemian blade fought, unwilling to server a new master. Magnus burned with mental effort, but blood lust fuelled his mental instructions. The Lakedaemian blade glowing angrily red in his hand, then suddenly the glow faded to nothing.

  Magnus stood, raised both psy-blades over his head. The blades shrank to atomic sharpness. He brought them both down point first, through armour, flesh and deck.

  The rage fled as quickly as it had risen. He picked up a discarded maser carbine face and aimed at the helpless figure’s head.

  Through his mind’s eye, Magnus sent a message to Cloud base Operations. “It’s done. Send medics and a collection team”. He didn’t wait for a reply. It seemed like an eternity late when he heard the approach of running feet. Agent Athena arrived brandishing a bizarre combination of high technology and bondage gear.

  Agent Athena took over guarding the prisoner whilst the restraints took affect and medics cut him out of his armour. Typically, professional militaries disguised their Officers and NCOs from snipers. The remnants of the Lakedaemian’s battle suit were far to ornate for any soldier. She looked up from her charge. Commander Magnus, daring Starship Commander, scrabbled desperately through the rubble for his friends.

  Major Sharp felt the change more than saw it. One instant, his steadily diminishing force was being fought to a standstill by a fanatical enemy. The next, they fell back in confusion. The Lakedaemians kept on going, all the way to their ship.

  Sharp and his Paras were elated, but it didn’t last long. Infrared gave the first warning. It was too hot to be just another Blight signature. The Apollonius’ reactors were building up to self destruct. They could go at any moment.

  Sharp stood with Augustine, a few metres back from a maintenance access tunnel to the ship lock. Viewing feeds from dog drones running reconnaissance around the Apollonius. The small positive was that the ship didn’t seem to have weapons online. But if the Paras didn’t find a clever way in soon, they’d have to try a boarding action through the ship’s defended airlocks.

  Magnus dropped on to the floor exhausted. He’d dragged Thresher and Armstrong clear of tonnes of debris. Now he watched as medics worked on men who’d risked their lives with him. Four casualties out of five didn’t seem like a great result, no matter how many they had killed in turn.

  Magnus heard a voice behind him, it sounded like Lincoln’s. He looked at Athena “He’s right. I should get back to the ship”. She flicked her eyes up from guarding the prisoner “Who’s right?”. Magnus stood up without answering.

  Magnus retracted the psy-blades he had buried through the captive’s body. “You won’t need those any more” he said. As he paused to hang the blades off his belt, Athena spoke again “I’ll come with you”. She nodded to at the approaching security team to watch the prisoner. Magnus didn’t seem to hear her, just started off for the transport capsule stop. Athena hurried after Magnus, unsure if he was getting his shit together or losing it.

  The ride down to the ship dock was complicated by sharing the capsule for part of the journey. A Laurentian body lay on the stretcher mule. The covering sheet couldn’t hide the cause of death. The security guard escorting it said nothing and Magnus seemed unable to look over. Athena discreetly blocked his view. There was no more comfort she could offer.

  Magnus seemed to have drawn into himself. His face was cold and grim. He stood upright, frozen to the spot. When he arrived at the dock, Magnus marched straight passed the security team posted at the airlock. Once inside Dreadnought, he let Chief Bryant take her time checking for Blight infection. Magnus showed no frustration or urgency, as the ran his combat suit and weapons through decontamination showers. Athena wondered how long the tranquil fury could last as she followed him through the same painstaking procedures. He didn’t look at her as they were stripped out of their gear and changed into ship suits. He paused briefly to collect his psy-blades. The red on the newly acquired blade was fading slowing, almost like fresh blood darkening as it dried.

  Once cleared, Magnus reported to the CIC, with Athena following him like a shadow. The atmosphere was tense as he entered the room. The big ship was humming with power and purpose, but there was an undercurrent of nerves from the crew. Cloud base was supposed to be a safe port.

  Heisenberg looked genuinely pleased as he strode up to the command level, “Skipper, glad you’re back. Heard you had quite a fight”. Athena’s worries eased as she saw Magnus return the greeting with the tiniest of smiles “A great bastard of a fight, Maggie. Sit rep please?”.

  Heisenberg let out a puff, “Good news, Dreadnought is eight minutes off condition one, Frankenstein is three minutes behind that. Hannah’s skipping every safety check we can. Counters are on the main screen”.

  Magnus nodded for her to continue. Heisenberg made a face of disapproval “The bad news, Frankenstein’s smart missile supply is zero. Beam weapons only”.

  Magnus felt almost glad despite the bad news, slipping back into the role of Starship Commander was easier than subduing a half mad psy-talented juggernaut infected with Blight. “How long to fix it?”.

  Heisenberg’s expression didn’t improve, “Two or three weeks. Her missile magazines and tubes are too small for the latest ship to ship birds” she sighed “The engineering team only discovered the difference a few hours ago as they tried to provision her”.

  Magnus grunted “Anything else?”.

  Heisenberg’s voice dropped to almost a whisper “Cloud base Operations is linked to us, but their sensor net took a beating from the attack” she paused “Something’s definitely out there, maybe a couple of somethings”, she gestured at the CIC display in lieu of a port hole.

  Magnus grunted “We’re have two of the biggest, nastiest battlecruisers in known space”, he continued more loudly “Shooting some punk will make my fucking day”. The CIC crew started exchanging glances and the odd smile. Their Commander was back.

  Chapter 31

  In Dreadnought’s CIC, Magnus looked round the departmental posts below him. He felt a steady subsonic hum. The ship was telling him she was ready.

  Heisenberg stood awkwardly on the command level. Magnus nodded at the Executive Officer’s seat next to his own, with Cartwright running Frankenstein, no-one else had the requisite experience. She gave him a sheepish grin and sat down gingerly.

  Magnus got the familiar chime in his mind’s eye, Dreadnought was receiving a transmission. Magnus nodded his assent to Sub-Lieutenant Bainham at Comms. Hannah Cartwright and Camperdown appeared on the main CIC display in teleconference.

  “No time for pleasantries, I’m afraid” Camperdown said apologetically “We’ve detected multiple bogeys around the edge of our sensor net” to Magnus’ ears his tone turned bitter “Signals are damned weak, thanks to Vespin’s soup, but they found us”.

  “Dreadnought’s at condition one. We can handle anything out there, Admiral” Magnus sounded more confident that he felt.

  Camperdown nodded “That brings us to the second problem. The Apollonius is running her reactor up to overload. Heat trace is unmistakeable”.

  Cartwright spoke up thoughtfully “Can you eject her from the ship lock?”.

  Camperdown shook his head “Not quickly enough to avoid taking on too much gas and sinking like a stone”, he paused for breath “Cartwright, you are to assist Cloud base with the Apollonius”.

  Magnus acknowledged Camperdown’s instruction and made chopping signal to Bainham. He killed the transmission and called out “Space Dock Control has cleared us for departure via ship lock three”.

  Magnus turned to Chief Wallis Barnes at Engineering “Seal up and detach, Engineering. We’re against the clock” Barnes nodded “Skipper, last two crew aboard. We’ve cleared all moorings”. Magnus called out to Flight “Take her out, Mr Anthony”, just as the CIC hatch swished open for Greg Jones. “Don’t give my job away just yet, Skipper” he said taking over the Flight post.

  The relief was plain to see o
f Peter Anthony’s face. Magnus smiled “Carry on, Flight” as Dreadnought began approaching ship lock three.

  Magnus ran his eyes over the Tactical plot, but it blurred before his eyes. The emotions and exertions of the day catching up with him. He didn’t notice Bryant and Armstrong sidle in and sit down.

  Heisenberg must have noticed Magnus’ plight. “Head in the game, Skipper”, she spoke softly so only he could hear. Magnus shook his head to clear it and concentrated on the tactical display. As soon as Dreadnought cleared ship lock three and extended out from Cloud base, her own sensors took up the task of hunting her prey.

  In Frankenstein’s CIC, Lieutenant Cartwright watched the Dreadnought disappear into ship lock three. Admiral Hecate nervously hovered over her shoulder. Cartwright’s exercise of command would be a challenge for them both.

  Frankenstein’s Chief Engineer, Davis Cairns, a mere Leading Technician brought from Tor Station, gave the nod. This only confirmed the engineering feed her grandfather was sending direct to Cartwright’s mind’s eye.

  Cartwright gave the order to slip moorings and turned her mind to Camperdown’s instructions. Frankenstein was to clear Apollonius from ship lock two. Without scratching the paint work of Admiral Hecate’s new starship.

  Cartwright called out “Flight, ease us up to the ship lock two, please”. Wrigglesworth acknowledged her with “Aye, Skipper”. Cartwright’s face didn’t move, but her heart had fluttered a little with a mix of pride and fear. Nobody had called her Skipper before. By longstanding fleet custom, the crew handed the honorific out to Officers they decided were worthy. She hoped she would live up to the title.

  Frankenstein nosed up to the damaged inner doors of ship lock two. Sensors relentlessly pounded the surface with energy, drinking every last drop of information. Reams of data flowed across the CIC display. None of it good. The Apollonius’ rapidly heating reactors gave off a tremendous thermal signature.