Legions of Orion (Star Crusades Nexus, Book 1)

by Michael G. Thomas

  That’s the place, he thought, glancing back to the two marines.

  They were still busy looking at the station. He took a deep breath, lurched across the space, and pushed open the door. Without thinking, he stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him. Inside were two women playing cards. They wore engineer’s overalls, and a series of displays ran along one side of the small room. He pointed the gun at them both, lifting his hand to his mouth for silence. The first, a middle-aged woman with short dark hair, fell from her chair in surprise. But the second, a much younger woman, just stared right back.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  The young woman nodded and then pulled a short, slightly curved blade from her waistband. She stood up and walked to her fallen friend, extending her free hand out to help her. As the fallen women reached up to hold her hand, the blade flashed across, slashing open her throat. Blood gushed from the deep wound, and she slipped to the floor, leaving an ever-growing pool of blood behind her. Jenson could almost make out the tattoo on her right arm, just above the wrist, of the Confederate Navy, the precursor to the Alliance. He smiled at the thought of what they were doing.

  “I have full access to the habitation and rotation controls. That’s all we can do from here. Will that be enough?”

  Jenson nodded in satisfaction.

  “That is enough. With this access, I will be able to carry out my tasks. Finally, we can ensure our brothers will not have died on Hyperion in vain.”

  He started to shudder; the memories and terror of what he had seen on that planet so many years ago was still fresh in his mind. The machines, the monsters; it was too much for him. The image of the dark, monstrous machine as it emerged from a glowing orb returned to his mind. It was an image that returned to him every time he closed his eyes. The metal followers ran about like beetles, each of them hacking and stabbing at friend and foe alike. It came to him so often now, he could no longer tell what was memory and what was imagined. The entire scene was like an image from hell where the tortured bodies of the defenceless were shredded before his eyes. He shook his head, but the image refused to leave him.

  “I..uh, I must...” he started and then almost fell back. The young woman stepped closer and placed a hand on his forearm. She felt warm and soft to the touch, snapping him out of his trance and back to the present.

  “Jenson, it’s alright. We’ll never come into contact with them again, I promise you! Pontus and his brothers can stay buried, and we’ll make sure it stays that way.”

  * * *

  Governor Anderson, the grey-haired veteran of countless wars and campaigns, watched from the busy control room as the power systems were fired up for the test. They’d been used a dozen times already, but this was the first time they would power the experimental rift-generator, the first one to ever be created for one-way travel. Ever since he’d taken command of the Alliance research base on Prometheus, he’d been involved with the unusual and the bizarre, from synthetic production of the war winning Biomechs to the dozens of new ships now plying the trade routes of the expanded Alliance. This was his second decade in charge of the facility, yet he still managed to maintain his slender frame. His still lightly freckled face and greying, unkempt hair, smartly trimmed sideburns and small moustache, betrayed his years of experience as a military governor and the second-in-command of a capital ship, now a senior Admiral in the Alliance military.

  Captain Dirk Konicek, commander of his Marine Guards, approached and saluted smartly. He was a barrel-chested officer with coal black hair and a scarred complexion from a number of years working on some of the toughest environments in the Alliance.

  “Admiral, the civilians are aboard and have asked permission to enter the control room.”

  “Sir, the plants are reporting maximum efficiency, computer systems are active, and the rift-generator is ready for your signal,” said the Chief Engineer on the programme.

  Anderson nodded and then looked about the room, and at the dozens of faces looking back to him. At least half had only joined the project in the last three years, but they had made massive progress. He thought back to the construction of the first rift-generators that had been built with pride by his team. In just seventeen years, the Alliance had made massive strides in science, technology and exploration. The ever-present Alliance Marines were stationed discreetly at the entrances, though few expected trouble. The Prometheus research facility was now one of the most heavily guarded and improved sites in the entire Alliance.

  So, it is time.

  “Very well, bring them in,” he said sternly.

  One of the marines nodded and opened one of the small doors. In walked a small group of the press, including representatives from both Prime and Terra Nova, the two largest and most important planets in the Alliance. Their camera crews moved into position, each closely monitored by the marines. Admiral Anderson was no great fan of the press, but even he knew the importance of such an event in the history of the facility, the Alliance and humanity itself. He looked at the first anchorwoman, a young woman probably in her early thirties. She wore a stylish grey suit, and he was certain she was the head anchorwoman for one of the Terra Nova networks. She nodded fervently and pointed at the camera to her right, indicating they were also ready. The Admiral took a deep breath and smiled.

  “Citizens of the Alliance, today is an auspicious day for all of us. In the seventeen years since the end of our terrible hardship in the War, we have come a long way. The network now exists between the major colonies, and trade and prosperity has returned to the long-suffering parts of our fledgling Alliance. This construction is the culmination of seven long years of work and the first stage in our exploration of the stars. Hundreds of years ago our ancestors launched colony ships on a generation’s long journey to Alpha Centauri, now our home. With this first exploratory Rift, we reach out and continue our journey.”

  He turned from the camera and nodded to his Chief Engineer. The man moved several icons on his three-dimensional display and activated a start-up sequence.

  “Generators at full power, Admiral.”

  A short distance away, another dozen engineers manned their own stations. Each called out and confirmed the status of their own equipment, including the cooling and backup systems.

  “Cooling...check.”

  “Computer tracking...check.”

  “Security lock down protocol now active.”

  The Chief engineer looked back to the Admiral.

  “All system are go, Sir.”

  Admiral Anderson paused just for a second before he gave the order. The tests in the past had all been successful, but never before had a rift been targeted at an unknown location. The problems and potential dangers of creating a spacebridge with no end location for connection had been considered a deadly risk. It was only with the data recovered from the ruins on Hyperion seven years earlier had it been considered even a possibility.

  “Activate the Rift,” he said as calmly as possible.

  The Chief Engineer returned to his system and entered his personal security clearance and override to start the system. As with most pieces of advanced technology, the actual final trigger was understated. No more than a simple activate button on his display. He reached out to touch it and could almost feel the eyes of billions burning into the back of his head as he pressed the button. His fingertip touched the unit, and around the room the screens changed colour, as the diagnostic tools monitored the power and signal levels through the unit.

  “Open them!” called out Admiral Anderson.

  On cue, the entire right-hand side of the large control room lit up as thick metal shutters lowered down. Behind them was photoelectric glass, a substance able to instantly respond to adverse lighting condition in case of solar flares or other such problems. It only now became apparent that they were all situated aboard the old Prometheus Seven Trading Post. At almost two thousand meters in diameter, the station now housed almost a thousand of the best technicians, engineer
s and scientists. Well over a decade ago, it had been home of trade and commerce in the sector. Little of that now remained with its new role of custodian of the Prometheus Rift. The view from the windows consisted first of the burning hot world of Prometheus, of which they orbited. Even more technicians and scientists were based there, but it was the orbiting station that was responsible for managing and maintaining the vast construction that floated in space next to it. Admiral Anderson pointed to the components.

  “As you can see, the Prometheus Rift is complete and ready for its final test. We built this rift to allow exploration of new star systems that are vast distances away. In the past, we have used the peak of our technology to travel distances of up to four light years. In the case of here, it took over a generation for the fastest and best-equipped colony ships to get here from Earth. This time we plan on sending a ship over a thousand light years to the Orion Nebula.”

  Unlike the orbs constructed on the colonies, the rift equipment consisted of a dozen small orbital platforms, each of which was self-contained and connected via an array of thin cables to the station itself.

  “As you may know, the power requirements to operate such a piece of technology are at the limit of our understanding. Over eighty percent of this entire station’s power capacity will be used to run each of the platforms until the cycle is complete.”

  Even as they watched the group of platforms, each looking much like an improvised space station, they flickered and flashed as energy rippled across their structures. The clouds of dust and gas around Prometheus gave the streaks of energy odd hues and shades of colour as they glinted off the dust and particles in space. At first, it was just the occasional flash until a web of flashes and lines jumped back and forth. Admiral Anderson looked over his Chief Engineer’s shoulder to check his screen. The man looked back at him.

  “All systems normal, Sir. The grid is holding. Capacitors are charging, thirty seconds...”

  Anderson nodded, and although he gave the look of calm professionalism, he could feel the beads of sweat on his forehead. It wasn’t just the money and resources that had been spent. It was the hopes and dreams of so many that had got them so far. The possibility of long-distance travel and exploration was one of the great dreams of so many in the Alliance. The opportunities and possibilities this technology had created had thousands of companies, and hundreds of thousands of people, waiting for the chance to make their names in the great unknown. He knew a lot was riding on this mission. He wondered how excited they would be if they realised where the exact coordinates in Orion had come from. He tried to shake that out of his head.

  Hyperion is something for another day; right now we create the doorway.

  The Chief Engineer nodded towards him.

  “Sir, capacitors are fully charged.”

  Here we go.

  “Activate the bridge!” he said smartly.

  The last stage of the process was the actual creation of the Rift itself. Anderson had witnessed the activation of many rifts before, but without a rift to connect to, there was a degree of uncertainty. Either way, it didn’t matter now as the process was already firing up. The grid flashed with power, and the space between the platforms flickered one last time and then changed to a purple-blue glowing disc. He watched and waited as the disc settled down until it faded out to an almost transparent shape. He took in a deep breath, half expecting the fields to collapse. Instead, each of the technicians and engineers gave him an affirmative.

  “Yes!” came a voice from one of the systems, and he was quickly joined by dozens of other technicians and engineers. Back in the middle of the room, a large three-dimensional projected model showed the shape of the rift entrance being created. Energy circles surrounded the platforms and ran in a stream back to the station in a continuous loop. One by one, each of the platforms changed colour and flashed green on the model. The indication was clear and obvious to each of those watching that the system was working and settling down.

  “Get me Commodore Lewis.”

  The image of the Commodore appeared in seconds and filled the large screen on the wall. The man was a seasoned officer and had been present at the last major action at Hyperion seventeen years earlier. He was now in charge of the defensive portion of the operation and commanded an impressive force of seven major warships, including the recently commissioned ANS Dragon. She was one of the newest of the Crusader class warships and the peak of Alliance technology. Her powerplants were heavily shielded and provided power to a battery of super-heavy railguns that were fitted in targetable mounts on the bow and stern. Dozens of smaller mounts were fitted out with multi-barrelled coilguns, all of them run by the advanced power system. She had the rough shape of a shark with a fattened forward section and an enlarged tail section. Many struts and antennae extended out, but it was the total lack of a rotating crew section that was the most revolutionary part of the vessel. No other military ship, until now, had been able to create such a force without the use of primitive rotating sections.

  “Admiral Anderson, my forces are ready and awaiting your go order.”

  Anderson nodded and looked over to his team for confirmation on the stability of the Spacebridge. All lights appeared to be green, but there was a nagging doubt in his mind about the viability of the one-way rift. He looked back to the display and the patient face of the Commodore. He watched for a moment, and his attention was drawn to the odd movement of the officers in the CIC (Combat Information Centre) of the ship. They moved with slow bounces that reminded him of the ancient but famous footage of mankind’s first steps onto the lunar surface of the moon back in the twentieth century. The Crusader class were all making use of the experimental gravito-magnetic drive developed on Terra Nova. It could only provide about one-fifth of normal Earth gravity, but it did allow the crew to go about their duties, without drifting around the spacecraft. The final indicator on the main display flashed several times and then settled down to a steady green.

  This is it, he thought.

  “Commodore, the Spacebridge is ready and stable. You are cleared to commence the operation.”

  There was a short pause, and for the briefest of moments, he wondered if his message had failed to reach the Commodore. He was about to speak again when he received a response.

  “Excellent. Congratulations to your team, Admiral. This is an auspicious day for the Alliance and for humanity itself.”

  From their position in orbit around Prometheus and directly alongside the rift platforms, they had a perfect view of the assembled ships. ANS Dragon was the closest vessel to the Rift and the largest warship present. As the eleventh ship in her class, she represented the new Navy, one that was smaller but substantially more flexible. The ship was one of the new multipurpose warships being built for the fleet to replace the few functioning cruisers, battleships, transports and war barges still in service. She was more powerful than the old cruisers used. She was faster and had the capacity to carry up to five hundred marines or a similar sized flight group; almost half of the capacity of a dedicated transport like the venerable ANS Santa Maria and ANS Santa Cruz. The remaining six ships included a motley collection of destroyers, each due for imminent replacement by the growing fleet of Crusader class warships.

  “Look, there it is!” called out one of the media people. It was a young man, barely out of his twenties but dripping with enthusiasm and excitement. Anderson was hardly surprised, this was one of the biggest ever stories for the media.

  Anderson knew immediately that they had spotted ANS Beagle. She had been hidden from view as she was positioned out of sight behind the structure of the station and guarded by three of the destroyers. She was substantially larger than any other ship present and of a bizarre design that included dozens of gantries and modules that seemed hastily attached to her fragile boom shaped hull.

  “ANS Beagle,” announced Admiral Anderson.

  “As you all know, there is no point in us launching a mission over a thousand light years
away if we have no ability to return and send data back. ANS Beagle is the first completely self-contained, mobile rift generator, and as such, she is the most advanced vessel ever constructed.”

  He paused for a moment, letting that sink in.

  “In fact, there are many that suggest the Beagle is the greatest engineering feat in our entire history. At more than a kilometre long, she can build, manage and power the reverse end of the Spacebridge for up to three months. Assuming the bridge is viable, we will be able to send engineers through to create a more permanent station that can manage a long distance bridge indefinitely.”

  Everybody in the room watched the massive ship as she used her manoeuvring thrusters to position herself to face the entrance of the bridge. The entrance itself was substantial, but at the approach of the ship, seemed barely adequate. The outer sections of the entrance fired their own thrusters and moved apart at an incredibly slow speed. It took almost a minute before the hole had enlarged enough for ANS Beagle to safely fit.

  “Sir, systems stable, bridge is secure and power systems are holding. We can keep it open for seven minutes, maybe eight with our reserves,” confirmed the Chief Engineer.

  “Good, send the signal.”

  It was the biggest problem with not having a rift generator at the other end to lock down the Spacebridge. Whereas the bridge could operate for minutes, it would need an entire station to power it. Once hardware was installed at both ends, it could be operated for months and with far less power while a permanent monitoring station was built at the other end. The longer the tunnel, the greater were the energy requirements, and the distance factor to the Orion Nebula was vast compared to the paltry distances so far used in the Alliance.